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Part 2

'Tom Hodler'

'What?' I said.

The man next to me extended a hand and said: 'Tom Hodler's the name.'

'Pleased to meet you, I'm John Condor.'

The man produced a roaring laugh. 'Do you hear that, barman? I'm Tom Hodler and this here fella next to me is called John Condor. Tom Hodler and John Condor, hahaha.'

'Quite the pair,' the barman said.

'Now tell me more about that broad of yours. I know you want to... I know you have to,' Tom spoke.

'I guess you're right,' I sighed. 'well, I couldn't believe my luck. Here I was, a completely average American boy, banging this super refined, super beautiful, super sexy creature. We stayed in London together for most of that summer. When I walked through the streets with her I was quietly singing that Chili Peppers song “London in the Summertime”.'

'But if I recall that song is about an English girl and an American man, not a German girl,' Tom interrupted.

'Yes... still, it seemed fitting at the moment. I extended my visa and moved to Düsseldorf with her. Her apartment was situated in an extraordinary building, which was part of three towers that had been designed by Frank Gehry, if you know who that is.'

'I don't,' Tom grunted.

'Yeah, I know Frank Gehry,' the barman shouted, 'he's that guy who makes all those buildings that look like they've been in an earthquake and then started to melt.'

'Yes, sort of,' I said, 'anyway, Hilda lived in the top of the tallest of these three towers, which was a jumble of concave and convex curved white plaster on the outside, and all sci-fi hyper modernism on the inside.'

'So she had serious bucks,' Tom said.

I nodded and took a gulp of whiskey. 'She was too damn refined. I mean, this girl has money in the family, works two jobs that would be the pinnacle of the career of any mere mortal.'

'I bet you began to doubt yourself, to feel that you were too shabby for all that fancy stuff,' Tom said.

'Yes, absolutely. There I was, an American steel structure mechanic, in Düsseldorf, the most swanky high-class city of Germany, with a girl that seemed to be her home city incarnate.'

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'The boy from Dieseldorf in Düsseldorf,' the barman laughed.

'You're a smart ass, aren't you?' I shouted, then I continued, 'I guess our relationship was purely sexual, that was just it. We fucked for hours on end. Our neighbors began to hate us, because we ruined their sleep. During our savage sex session we moved the bed, or the dinner table, or her couch all through the apartment, at any time, day or night. Yeah, and on top of that all her screams and moans. The lady downstairs even began to bang the ceiling with a broom in the rhythm of our screwing on more than one occasion.'

'You gotta be kidding me,' Tom laughed.

I shook my head. 'I kid you not,' I said, 'this was serious. It was wild. There was wild mutual attraction, but not mutual understanding. I always felt that socially and intellectually I was embarrassing her. We had massive arguments. More and more I felt I had to impress her, that I really had to impress her with something spectacular in order to save our relationship.

One day she showed me the catalog of Christie's. “Look at this!” she cried, “in a couple of months we are going to auction a painting of a Doge of Venice... isn't that amazing?!”

“Wow,” I said, “just like our painting. The painting that united us.”

“Yeeeesss,” Hilda cried, “it's so cool. Oh, I wish I could have it... wouldn't that be perfect, to have our own Doge?”

“You're damn right!” I said.

And that's when I made the worst decision of my life... I came to the conclusion that the perfect way to impress my goddess suddenly presented itself out of the blue: I had to give her that painting.'

'How steep was the price tag?' Tom asked.

'88.000 dollars'

'I bet you didn't have that laying around somewhere?'

'No, I did not... But I became obsessed with the idea that I had to buy it. Now, at the time I did not have a job, I was living of the money that I had saved for my trip around Europe. I had already spent almost all of it. I did not have any wealthy family members I could turn to in order to borrow a large sum of cash. I was not a crook, had never cheated anyone, had no experience in drug dealing... those were not possibilities I would consider. So, I kept wrecking my mind. Suddenly it hit me: I had heard stories of people who had made insane profits with trading in Bitcoin and other crypto currencies.'

'When did all of this take place?' Tom asked.

'This was in the fall of 2017,' I answered.

Tom roared with laughter and slapped me on the shoulder and cried: 'I think John here could use another whiskey. I can see where this is going, but please spell it out for us.'

'Those krauts have a term for that sort of thing: Schadenfreude,' the barman added, while he poured two more shots.

'Yes, yes,' I sighed, 'just let me tell the story.'

'Do proceed.'

'I began to investigate online how to get into crypto currency and blockchain lending. There was much hype. You had all these video's by guys called BitBoy, oh no that was later, wait uhm, DataDash this, Ivan that, and even a guy who called himself Supaman.'

'You mean Suppoman,' Tom interrupted.

'Yeah, that was him. Hey, you know about this stuff!'

'Probably more than you do, by the sound of it, hahaha.'

'Okay Tom, well, hear me out. I did not really know what to do, what to buy, or where to buy it. Determined to rake in those profits I began to talk to people on chat forums that were dedicated to crypto trading. I kept virtually bumping into this person who went by the name Master Puppet. This Master Puppet really knew a lot about the whole crypto world and began to instruct me.'

'You found yourself a guru!'

'Yeah, you could say that. I became fascinated by this person, who seemed insanely knowledgeable about just about anything and wrote me emails in immaculate, novelesque English. I was very impressed. Then the shock came, the big revelation.'

'That this guy was a scam artist, right?'

'No, more shocking actually. One day Master Puppet invited me for a video chat... and, just like you, I had always assumed it would be some dude with glasses and a white beard. It had never occurred to me that instead I had been talking to a woman, ten times a day, for several weeks. And not just any woman: this utterly mesmerizingly gorgeous Indian girl appeared on the screen of my laptop. I think my mouth literally fell open.

She smiled coyly and said:

“Hi there, I'm Ada.”'

To be continued

Written By:

John Condor

Read other Chapters:
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