Tom Kaulitz

I worked as a bartender at a club; it was my hobby, mixing up various drinks to people's tastes. And sometimes there's a bit of a back-and-forth here, like someone arguing at table 4, or women dancing on tables after they'd had too much to drink. And some people would chat with me, gossiping as best they could. Sometimes it's the most fun thing in the world, and it makes my shift go by faster.

Today, my boss told me the famous band "Tokio Hotel" was coming. I didn't think much of it at first—well, it's just a band, so what?—but I was so wrong. They arrived soon afterward, and all the girls squealed with delight and ran to get their autographs.

I got a good look at them, they weren't bad at all, but when I felt someone's gaze on me, I looked up and saw that it was a guy from that group staring at me, he was wearing derby shoes that were hanging over his shoulders, baggy style, and a shiny piercing in his lip, which he constantly fiddled with his tongue, grinning at me with his mountainous smile, he walked up to the bartender's table.

• Miss, can I please have something strong to drink with you?