<div class="floatleft">(http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/69/Bundesarchiv_Bild_146-1989-072-16%2C_Matthias_Erzberger.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Wilhelm Bohlm<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Die Weisse Amsel – Willkommenraum<br/><strong>TIME OF DAY:</strong>Early Evening<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Alicia Liseki<br/><hr/>“Alicia…” Bolhm repeated her name, a distinguished smile brightening up his face a bit. “I like that name. My name is Joachim.”<br/><br/>Bohlm was proud of himself. He had made up an entire cover persona to hide his identity when he came to the Amsel, and fortunately he wasn’t too nervous to have forgotten it. He was quite pleased with her look: her fashion hinted to a time before the War, although she juxtaposed it with a short lacey skirt, and her hair was still long, unlike the<em>buibkopf</em>that had become so popular among women in Berlin…and Hamburg, Munchen and Dresden for that matter.<br/><br/>“All of my dreams?” Bohlm chuckled uneasily. “I only came for sex. You…<em>do</em>do that here, yes?” Bohlm started to ramble with nervousness. “I have never been to a place like this before. We have them in Sachsen of course, but nothing like this place. It is beautiful. It must look amazing at night with all the lights. Some of my colleagues recommended this place to me. Not that I can share their names, of course.”<br/><br/>Finally he realized he might be boring his companion. “Excuse my drivel. It is the politician in me. Would you like a drink?” Bolhm didn’t know if that was the protocol, but it seemed appropriate enough to the situation. He leaned closer to her so he could lower his voice, his demeanor becoming a shade more salacious. “So how does this work?”