Sitting at the bar, surrounded by her friends, was a vision in white. She almost looked too pretty to be real. An overhead spotlight hit her from behind and lit up her platinum blond, shoulder-length hair like a halo. Holy shit, I thought, she was so worth that drive. I caught her eye and smiled. I turned away to cue up the next song to play, thinking that I was going to go right over to her and say hello, but as I turned back around she was standing there on the stairs to the DJ booth.
“I’m Taxi,” she said simply.
So many lines rushed through my head, but they were all cheesy or rude, so instead I replied, “Great name. I’m Dick.”
It was Taxi’s turn to smile. She took one step back and looked me up and down. “That’s not right. Du bist nicht dick.”
My knowledge of the German language was limited to just a few words and phrases but from what Taxi said I picked out a couple that I recognized. Du is you, bist means is, nicht is not and dick is my name. She was saying I’m not who I say I am.
I leant forward. “Really, I am Dick. Look, this is me.” I pointed to the poster advertising my month at Magic that was pinned on the wall of the DJ booth. The picture on the poster looked just like me; hell, I was even wearing the same suit.
She laughed. “Yes, that is you. But du bist nicht dick.” She stepped forward and put her hands on my waist. “’Dick’ in German means fat. You are not fat.”
Oh great. I was hoping to learn a little German, but to find out in my first impromptu lesson that my name has a specific meaning in that language was certainly not what I was hoping for. Kids across Vienna would see the flyers that read ‘Dick Sheppard’ and would want to come and party with the chubby DJ. Just wonderful.
Taxi’s hands lingered on my waist for a few more seconds, perhaps a little longer than they should have. The message was clear. I looked into her eyes. “How long are you going to be here tonight?” I asked.
She held my gaze and said without hesitation, “Until you finish.” I knew the game was on.