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About Dortmund

And the risks! Oh, don’t get me started. You’re dodgin’ cops, STDs, and God knows what else. I’d be whisperin’ to myself, “This is how I die, isn’t it?” Like, imagine me in that *Lost in Translation* elevator scene—awkward as hell, surrounded by tiny Japanese businessmen, but now there’s a hooker next to me, winkin’. I’d freak out! “What am I supposed to say to her?!” Probably somethin’ dumb like, “So, uh, you come here often?” Total trainwreck.

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There are secrets too. I found an underground cellar behind an old brewery. A hidden hangout for local artists and poets. It was dark, kinda depressing, like a bad episode of a soap opera. But hey, art is art, right? Sometimes, I feel that deep down, everyone here is just trying to survive, "Just keep swimming," even if there's no water.

Er kam nicht an Franz Beckenbauer vorbei: Hahn feiert seinen 70. im Flugzeug