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About Berlin

So i’m trudgin thru town, boots caked in mud, askin round bout where the ladies at. Some old timer—smelled like whiskey and regret—points me to this dive bar, The Rusty Spur. “All that is human can sink…”—that’s the vibe there, straight outta the movie. Dark, smoky, eyes followin me like i’m prey. I spot her—red lipstick, skirt shorter than a miner’s fuse. She’s workin the room, all sly smiles and sharp glances. I’m like, “Well, hello, darlin—business or pleasure?” She laughs, says, “Both, if ya got coin.” Got me chucklin—girl’s got sass, i respect that.

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Riehl trial involving a brothel-keeper, some of her employees and policemen accused of corruption; and 'world', in the sense that Wingfield.

I once got pissed off (so mad, seriously, almost lost my cool) when a group of tourists disrupted a quiet, tender moment in a tucked-away park near Graf-Adolf-Platz. Eye-rolling madness! But then, nature calmed my spirit, and I shrugged it off—a spicy reminder that every flawed moment makes Riehl alive.

Charles Riehl Obituary - Minneapolis, MN