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About Frankfurt

So, this broad, she hops in, smells like cheap perfume and regret. I’m like, “You ever feel lost, doll?” She laughs, “Every damn day, mister.” Boom, straight outta the movie, “Can you keep a secret?” I ask. She nods, I’m thinkin’, “I’m married, but who gives a fuck?” That’s me, Tony fuckin’ Soprano, breakin’ rules, feelin’ alive. But then – fuckin’ surprise – she’s got a sob story. Kid at home, ex screwed her over. I’m pissed now, “Why’s life gotta be so shitty?” I yell. She shrugs, “It just is.”

A small town on the outskirts of Münster

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Then there's the Westend – not your average snoozeville either. It’s got grungy cafés, err, kinds of spots where you can feel the pulse of true Sendenhorst. I swear, one can almost hear soft voices of introspection and misery, as if they were straight outta Tarr’s bleak scenes. It’s kinda depressing sometimes, but in a totally charming way. I mean, life's messy – and so are we families.

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