Imagine the most uptight financial analyst at one of the most conservative banks in already conservative Hamburg. Got it? Early 30's, complete with grey wool overcoat, immaculate blond coif, shoes that cost more than my rent, Blackberry in hand?
That was the guy next to me on the train this morning, except that he reaked of patchouli. I'm certain he's not a patchouli kind of guy, so now I'm trying to imagine what his girlfriend looks like.
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