Being there already a week I was missing Berlin and was constantly texting to Mr. Curly Hair. One evening I wished him sweet erotic dreams, just for fun of course. I got a reply with ‘ja, feuchte Träume. Schlaf gut, Mädchen’. I had no idea what feuchte Träume were supposed to mean.

The next morning, while having breakfast with Sarah’s family, with an innocent face, not suspecting anything, I asked the whole table what that German word-combination meant. You should’ve seen their face expressions when I uttered those magic words. The big brother started giggling. Sarah’s Dad almost spat out the coffee he was drinking.

Sarah’s mother wondered, ‘I’m sorry, what again?’

‘Feuchte Träume,’ I repeated naïvely though already suspecting something shady.

Then she managed to say with her pitying eyes, ‘Who told you this?’

‘Some guy from Berlin texted me this yesterday,’ I confessed. The mother wondered what message I wrote so as to get such a reply. I made an even more naïve look and pronounced, ‘I simply wished him Goodnight. Somehow my head treated equally Good night and Sweet erotic dreams. But I swear, I did NOT mean anything by that. I just was in my silly mood, I guess.

‘Well, wet dreams mean,’ the mother started finding her words to explain properly.

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