Devotion

I believe in the mystery of life,

in the force of love and infidelity

and in the painful unpredictability

of our actions. Max Frisch

- How old?

- How old do you want me to be?

- How much?

- 120.

Get in.

- You don't look like a hooker.

- What do they look like?

Different.

What?

I can barely hear you...

Sh*t.

Shall I take my clothes off?

- Stop talking like a hooker.

- I am a hooker.

No. You're not.

I don't drink alcohol.

- I think you need money.

- Who doesn't?

That's not what I mean.

You have a problem

and for whatever reason you

decided to hustle for the money.

- You got me figured out.

- Not really.

- Maybe I can help you.

- I don't need your help.

- Sure? - I would never accept

help from clients.

- Do I look like a client?

- Yes.

- You have no clue.

- Why do you pick up hookers?

I don't, it was the first time

and once won't hurt.

What's your name?

And please don't tell me

Angelique or Felicitas.

Anja.

- Okay, Anja, what's your problem?

- I don't have a problem.

So?

What?

Are you going to tell me,

why you hustle?

I wanted to know what

it's like to f*** a stranger.

I liked the idea of it

and I wanted to try.

So what's it like?

You're my first one.

W Pm

Fine, and yourself?

Tell me, I've got time.

What?

How did that happen?

You're kidding.

Sure, come over.

- Where were we?

- There's a dead cat.

Sh*t, I totally forgot.

Poor cat ran into my car

last night

and I had to cut it out of

the grille.

I'll bury it in the yard tomorrow.

Let's get started, shall we?

Come here.

Closer.

Strip.

Come on.

Go on.

I have to say, it's

a convenient outfit.

Easy handling. It's all there

in a flash...

It bothers me when women smell bad.

Cheap perfume says a lot about

one's personality, don't you agree?

If you ask me, too sweet

and too heavy.

An old ladies' perfume.

'Allure' by Chanel, right?

Nice T-shirt.

You can keep it if you want.

Can I have something to drink?

- What would you like?

- What do you have?

Whatever you want.

- Then I'd go for gin tonic.

- I thought you don't drink alcohol.

With or without ice?

Doesn't matter.

Not easy, isn't it?

The job that seemed like

a piece of cake,

turns out to be a back-breaker.

I have great respect for hookers.

It's hard-earned money.

But who would know better

than you.

No reason to be disappointed.

I knew you weren't a hooker.

And now you know it, too.

- Fate or coincidence?

- What?

You believe in fate or

coincidence?

No idea. Some things are

predeterminated, others aren't.

I hit on you, was that

fate or coincidence?

What do I know? Coincidence.

Fate.

Whatever.

It was scratching the whole time.

- I messed up.

- What?

Well... this whole thing.

- Are you mad?

- Should I be mad?

Don't know...

- You didn't get the fun you paid for.

- It's okay, I got a refund.

This place is awesome and so huge.

And those things...

- You like the sculptures?

- Totally.

- Is it your work?

- Don't touch!

I also want to go into art when

I'm done.

- With what?

- School.

- School? How old are you?

- You asked that before.

I'm going to night school to get

my diploma.

No.

Afterward s I want to do

something creative.

- Good!

- You don't believe me.

- I do.

- You're making fun of me.

- Not at all.

- Where are you going?

I have to take a leak.

- Leaving already?

- I'm fed up.

Too bad. We were just clicking.

- Didn't you forget something?

- No, I have everything on me.

- You did forget something.

- What?

- To say good-bye.

- Bye. Can I go now?

- What's wrong?

- It's not working out that way.

- Don't f*** with me.

- I don't, I want to leave.

- My wallet.

- Which wallet?

- So you do want to f*** with me.

- You got your money back.

Hey, let go!

You're hurting me!

Fine. So you got it back.

Can I go now?

- What were you thinking?

- Are you gonna be a wise ass now?

And stop looking at me this way.

Hello, my name is Richter. There's

a burglar in my apartment.

Exactly.

Raumerstrasse 7.

How long will it take?

No problem, I'll wait.

Think I'm scared of cops?

Look... We have company.

Stop it. That's disgusting.

I'll let him walk around, okay?

What's this?

- May I have a look?

- No, you don't.

The contents of a purse says a lot

about a woman's character.

In your case it's pure curiosity.

Lipstick.

A sample of... 'Allure'.

- Stop it!

- Very responsible.

- Can't be too careful.

- F*** yourself.

Is this mace?

I used to have the same cellphone.

Had to recharge it every day.

Very annoying.

That's all?

Not very exciting.

How about... we put some

nice things inside?

For example... ten grams of coke.

Excellent stuff. Goes off like

a rocket. It really kicks ass.

- Quit it.

- And while we're at it...

Let's add some lovely E's...

and a wonderful piece

to calm down.

Looks much better already.

The cops will think that you

are a dealer.

Looks like you'll be spending the next

four years in a nice woman's jail.

Which is not as much fun as

the one on TV show.

I can picture it. The sisters there

will be crazy about you.

I just read about a new girl being

raped for hours with a toilet brush.

She hanged herself after a week.

But... you dig new experiences.

Cheer up.

Four years will fly by

and you'll be back on the streets.

At least you'll have four years

of work experience.

It's opening new horizons.

- I don't envy you.

- Please untie me.

If I were you, I'd start praying.

I'll do anything you want.

- Anything?

- I'll make up for it.

Sounds tempting...

But I can't do it.

You know why?

- You weren't very nice to me.

- But I apologized.

I pick you up, give you money,

talk to you.

And you?

You steal my purse and try

to fool me.

- What do you want?

- What I want?

You really want to know?

Are you familiar with the story

of the "Arabian Nights"?

Yes. No, not really.

Then prick up your ears.

Once upon a time there was a king.

His name was Shahryar.

One day he caught his wife in bed

with his kitchen servant.

She begged for mercy, but he

had her beheaded.

From then on the king was afraid that

all his wives would cheat on him.

Absurd, isn't it?

Big problem, but the solution

was obvious.

He asked the vizier,

his personal servant,

to bring him a virgin every night.

The next morning the ex-virgin's

head was cut off.

This went on for months

until the vizier had

trouble finding

new virgins for the king

and feared for his life.

But then the vizier's daughter

offered herself to the king.

The daughter's name was

Scheherazade.

Are you listening?

After the king took her virginity

she asked to tell a story.

He agreed and she narrated the

story of the Merchant and the Demon.

At first the king barely listened,

but the story grew ever

more exciting.

The smart girl didn't finish that

night and as morning broke,

the king was forced

to postpone her execution.

She continued the following night,

but she wove a second story into the

first and a third one into the second.

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