Gaby Book 27 Smell of the Crowd by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2022 Madeline Bell Life has some certainties, birth and death of course, but the rest is a mix of Minestrone and Spaghetti, some of which we have no direct influence over. We can however decide whether we want Parmesan or other seasoning, we can give Gnochi a try, doesn't mean we'll like it but at least we'll know. Gaby has reached just such a point in her life, she knows she likes Pizza, she's not averse to Spaghetti or Lasagne but is Gnochi for her? The Gnochi in this case is doing the singing with BlauHase on a more serious level, as a 'hobby' its fine but could this be a change of career? Well you don't find out without trying so that's just what our heroine is about to find out in this, the 27th book of the Gaby saga.

 
"I wonder what this Binder bloke will dress us in tomorrow?” I mused as Mist and I stood in the short queue to purchase eis at the Italian ice cream shop.
"Well,” my orange haired companion started, "It’ll probably be well sexy and revealing.”
"You think?”
“’course, the whole alternative thing is all tight leather and latex with like straps and stuff like pferde.”
"And you know this how?”
"A girl can have hobbies,” she replied airily but at the same time in low tones.

I gave her a slightly disbelieving look, I mean, until last week i thought she was as, I dunno, ordinary as the rest of us, then she started wearing this Gothy stuff, did her hair that outrageous colour and got those piercings, how well do I know her?

"There’s magazines and stuff on the internet, there is more to life than Radrennen” she added.
"Never said there wasn’t.”
"Anyhow, some people go for all the latex and stuff in a big way.”

I’m sure they do, I mean people go to extremes with all sorts of hobbies, cars, climbing, cooking, kickball, you name it there will be someone whose every breath revolves around their pastime. I’ll admit that I can get quite intense over my riding sometimes but I do do other stuff too.

"Well if he thinks I’m gonna wear anything like that he’s got another think coming.”
"I’m sure it won’t be, usual?”

We were next in line by now, "Coconut and pistachio.”
"You are so predictable Bond.”
"Only like you putting ketchup on everything,” I shot back.
"Not everything.”
"Okay, not soup but everything else.”
"I like it.”
"Fraulein?” the swarthy server prompted.
"Er mango and licorice and a coconut and pistachio.”

And she calls me weird!
 

Dad would’ve probably gone in the abbey place but whilst I’m not averse to a bit of history type stuff I kinda need to be in the mood plus I’m not sure that either of us is dressed suitably to visit a religious building. Well okay, I’m okay but Mist looks more like something from the opposing team what with the tiny shorts, almost exposed bosom and heavy makeup. Sometimes discretion wins.

With the Kloster out, that left us with the delights of Seligenstadt’s commercial district. The actual layout may be different but in terms of content the place isn’t much different to so many small towns in my adopted country, a few national brands rubbing shoulders with local independents selling everything from phones to fancy goods, curtains to spectacles with an infill of bakers, butchers and yes even a candle maker. It reminded me a little of going to York back in England with the narrow alleys connecting various small squares between timber framed buildings.

To be honest, there wasn’t much that held any interest for either of us until Mist spotted ‘Olivia’s Gebrauchte Kleidung’, a few metres from the bahnhof.

"Ooh, let’s take a look,“ Mist enthused.
"Really?“

Okay, maybe i am a bit of a snob when it comes to clothes, i’m not against borrowing stuff from friends and family but to actually go out to buy stuff that someone else has worn, sorry, not me.

"You can get some great bargains,“ my companion told me.
"If you say so.“
"Come on Gabs, live a little.“
"Whatever,“ i sighed as i followed the fishnetted one through the portal.

Back in Mansfield and even Warsop we had the charity shops, Oxfam, Sally Army and so on each selling donated stuff to raise money. There are bargains to be had, books, music media, toys and of course clothing, Olivia’s’ however only sold the latter, racks of clothing, shelves of shoes and accessories but of course, no two items the same. Apart from that you’d almost mistake it for a slightly eclectic boutique, this was no shove it on a hangar and fill the place, whoever ran this place clearly wanted it to be something more.

Okay, a lot of the stuff was a bit, well hausfrau or even oma but one area seemed to be dedicated to more fashionable stuff, i even remember seeing some of it in the original stores not so long ago. I have to say, Mist was, as Gran says, like a pig in shit, pulling stuff out, mostly of a black persuasion. Okay, i’ll admit it, i looked at a few bits myself, if it hadn’t been a size forty two, there was a nice ‘likeAnna‘ party frock i could’ve been tempted by.

"Where do they get this stuff?“ i mused to myself as i moved along the rails.
"That would be telling,“ a youngish, well i guess mid twenties, woman mentioned from over the rail.
"I was just curious, a lot of this looks almost brand new.“
She shrugged, "Some people buy things for an occasion, maybe an interview then never wear again.“
"I guess,“ i’ve probably got stuff like that.
"You ladies looking for anything in particular?“
"Not me, my closets are already bursting, dunno about carrot top.“
"Nothing specific,“ Mist told us, "Just you know, black.“
"I’ve got a rack of new stuff you might be interested in, i’ll just fetch it through.“

"Mist!“ i hissed as the shop person dissapeared through the rails.
"What?“
"What are you doing?“
"What do you think, checking out what she has.”

I gave a sigh cum shrug, I got that but, oh I don’t know, maybe I’m just a bit tetchy this morning.

"Here we go,” the store keeper carolled over the rattle of the clothing rail she was steering out into the shop space.

Unlike the rest of the store’s orderly appearance, this rail was rammed with a diverse mix of stuff.

"Its not sorted so you’ll have to have a rummage I’m afraid.”
"No problem,” Mist replied with a hint of glee in her voice.
 
Well of course, my stoic observation of my friends exploration didn’t last long, I was soon sifting the wares from the opposite end of the stuffed rail. Whilst missing that out of the packet crispness of new stuff, it was all nicely laundered and pressed, there was none of that slightly stale smell I associate with my occasional visits to used clothing emporia. Not only that but the lack of signs of wear suggested most of this stuff was almost new.

"What do you think?” Mist asked holding up a dark red, well I suppose you’d call it a day dress, in a style I kind of associate with, well older women.
"Its a bit, erm, Oma.”
"That’s the point.”
"If you say so.”

As late teens, we have of course got several years of shopping experience behind us, we can go through a shops stock like a herd, flock, whatever of locusts, discarding and selecting stuff like one of those letter sorting machines. I quickly rattled through the goods, branded jeans, blouses, skirts, trousers, shorts, jumpers, dresses, occasionally pulling one free for a better look. There was some nice stuff but nothing caught my eye until the plushness of velvet brushed my hand.

Okay, I’ll admit it, I’ve always had a sort of thing for velvet, it just feels, I dunno, slightly decadent in a very luxurious way. Silk, satin, taffeta, even cotton and wool can be great, but slinky body hugging velvet gets me every time. This particular example was in red, a solid scarlet in a sort of cross between Emily Bronte and a cheongsam, short puff sleeves, open décolletage but with braid decoration at the sort of keyhole bits on the sleeves and hemline.

"What you got there?” Mist enquired having seen me paused.
"Velvet dress,” I told her holding it up for inspection.
"Nice, you should get that, fishnets, big boots, uber Goth!”

I’d actually been thinking nice hose and my best heels but I sort of got the vibe Mist was thinking of. Question is, do I need it? I mean I already have several velvet frocks, do I need another. Hmm, define need. I held it against me, it came, even on my short frame, barely to mid thigh, closing my eyes I pictured myself wearing it, the short pile both smooth and resistant as my fingers moved over the material.

"Maybe,” I allowed draping it over the stuff I’d already looked over.

Long story short, I didn’t find anything else that appealed to me although Tangerine head gathered a small pile of stuff she fancied. I hmm’d and aah’d over getting the velvet, it was only ten euro, what the heck. Decision made I headed for the till having to pass that ‘likeAnna’ party frock on the way, on impulse I grabbed that up too.
 

"So how much did you spend?” I asked once we were back on the street.
"She gave me a discount.”
"How much?”
"Seventy five,” she mumbled.
"Seventy five?” I exclaimed.
"You don’t need to shout, there’s some nice pieces, real silk and stuff.”

Brrng, brrng...brrng, brrng, the muffled sound of my Handy diverted me to scrambling in my Handtasche for the source.

"Bond.”
"Erd, Stefan.”
"Hey, you guys back?”
"About ten minutes away, we got your bike, eventually.”
"Eventually?”
"Bit of a saga, tell you later, main thing is we got it.”
"Yeah, thanks.”
"So you guys seen anywhere for us to eat?”
"There’s loads of places in the town, bit pricey tho.”
"Its the end of the tour, we can probably live with that.”
"Yeah,” I agreed.
"We’ll see you in a few minutes then,” Stefan suggested.

I felt a tugging of my elbow, Mist gesticulating across the road.

"Hang on Stef,” I turned my attention to my companion, "What?”
"Over the road, to eat,” she pointed.

I concentrated a bit better on the building she was pointing at.

"You still there Stefan?”
"Not gone anywhere, what’s up?”
"We’ve found somewhere to eat, some sort of Brauhaus opposite the bahnhof.”
"Now you’re talking.”
"There’s some free street parking too,” I observed.
"Works for us, let the others know and we’ll see you in five.”
 

The Seligenstädter Klein Brauerei was just that, there must be hundreds of breweries across Germany, from the huge internationally known brands like Krombacher®, Erdinger®, Paulaner®, Becks® and the like through regional operations, we have Bitburger and Vulkan at home. According to the connoisseurs like Dad though, the best beer is made by the small ‘artisan’ breweries, who often only supply their wares either directly or through a few local outlets.

Even the big breweries will have a Brauhaus and we’ve used them a time or two on our travels around the country as apart from the alcohol they usually serve good value traditional food. I left Mist outside with the bags whilst I headed inside to secure seating for our party.

It was the usual sort of bar restaurant thing inside, lots of wood and decorated with a brewing theme, you know, black and white photos, polished brass things, old advertising material. Being lunchtime it was fairly busy but there were plenty of seats, I was able to commandeer a big horseshoe booth that’d accommodate all eight of us comfortably. Having marked our territory with my shopping and cardigan I headed to the bar for some menus.
 

The others arrived a few minutes later having walked from the Kloster gardens. I guess we make a motley bunch, from Mist’s punk goth look to Hilde in her jeans and t shirt, the guys favouring various denim and leather combo’s, yeah, I think the Brauhaus is more us than the more genteel eateries across the town.

"Great find Erd,” Marcus stated as everyone settled into the booth.
"Wasn’t me, Misty spotted it.”
"Well thank you Mist.”
"You’re welcome, it was either here or Maccy D’s,” she smirked.
"You ordered anything Erd?” Little Jo asked.
"Not yet, I was waiting for you lot.”
"Usuals to drink?” he asked the table, vacating his end seat to fetch the beverages.
 

"So what’s the saga with the bike?” I asked Stefan in the lull between ordering our food and seeing it.
"Well it wasn’t really that much of a thing,” he started, "It took us a while to get to the centre, some sort of incident on the Ring. Anyway it was a girl on reception, she didn’t know anything about it so we had to wait for the duty manager who then had to go fetch the key,“ he paused for a sip of his beer.
"And?” I pressed.
"Well your bike wasn’t in the cupboard, it was full of toilet paper, great big packs, you know catering size?”
"Someone stole my bike?”
"No it wasn’t stolen, it took a few minutes to find it though. Apparently the Haushalt people moved it to the boiler room out of the way when the toilet paper was delivered sometime after we left. That’s it really.”
"Is it okay?”
"As far as we could see,” Animal put in.
"Dad’ll go ape if its got damaged coz I forgot it.”
"You can blame us,” Stefan offered, "But I’m sure its fine.”

Guess there’s no point on worrying about it, not like it’ll change anything.

The food was fine, I had the popular pub standby of Rostbratwürst mit grünkohl, which in this case meant half a dozen tiny Nürnberger sausages with a mound of kale and creamed potatoes. I’ve never gotten quite why Nürnberger are so small, after all you could just have one normal size würst instead of a load of little ones. Still, it was alright, filled a hole, who knows what we’ll get to eat later.
 

Mühlheim am Main sits between Frankfurt and Hanau but on the opposite bank of the Main, barely ten kilometers from Seligenstadt as the crow flies, it took us about forty five minutes in the bus to join the two points. It was too early to go to the hotel even after our long stopover for lunch so we went directly to tonight’s venue, the Kulturhalle Schalnz. To be honest I wasn’t the only one thinking we’d got the address wrong when we got to Carl Zeiss Straße which is taken up with factory units the wrong side of the tracks to the town itself.

Then we couldn’t get in from the front so had to go around the block to the back entrance which did little to dispel the image of an engineering workshop, the building being clad in that corrugated sheet stuff, much like they use at Apollinaris for the sheds. Usually Robert is at the venues before us but today he was nowhere to be found so Stefan took point leading us inside.

Of course we’ve played a few repurposed industrial buildings on this trip, station halls, even a power station, their heritage very much on display. This time though, once inside the ‘sheds’, there was no indication of their previous purpose. Adam, the manager, gave us the ten pfennig tour, function room, bar and of course the main hall which hosts something over a hundred performances every year, mainly less well known artists like ourselves but also the ever popular cover bands and some less serious stuff like the weekly Thursday pub quiz!

It seems like a nice friendly place for our penultimate gig of our Tour and Adam was pretty happy that it was already sold out, okay its not a huge venue but its still pretty cool. It didn’t take long to unload the gear and get set up, I made sure my bike went back on the bus myself. There’s no warm up again tonight, we go on at eight thirty so it’ll be a fairly early finish for a change.

There was still no sign of Robert when we headed for the hotel a bit before five.
 
Maddy Bell © 21.08.2022