And all the stupid excuses, so that the colleague on patrol doesn't notice what's going on. Both their hearts, his and Janisch's, beat. They roll along slow or fast. Attention is paid to the younger officer, for a short time they are a pair. One arm brushes the other, while people cheerfully drive off, because this one time their misdemeanors have been disregarded. The hairs on his colleague's arm briefly stand up on end, then flatten again, please don't brush against me again Kurt, or if you do, then unintentionally. But now the patrol is already driving somewhere else. The colleague, a young family man, supposes nothing and of course supposes something and first of all he has to be wearisomely bound into the Sport and Skittles Club of the Country Police to shut his mouth, but not by placing one's mouth on his. Then the mouth would really wake up. Yes, all that is on earth, I love you and more or something like it, then when your mouth kisses me, it's not so difficult…
Well. Let me tell you. Unfortunately one has to talk to women a lot, but quite differently, so that they become erotically inflamed. Naturally desires must not remain secret (nothing at all will ever remain secret!), because then they cannot be fulfilled as secret desires later on. It's talking that makes a person independent, so he can ask other people the way and then go off in another direction after all. Talking is also the hobby of many women. Odd, when they sit down, they surely don't do it to be quiet. So let's give them a reason to cry out! Wonderful, how it tears the words from their mouths! But it's better if one manages to put it in beforehand, into this mouth, which otherwise always goes on talking. No one needs to give it a leg up, it has a permit, it can make demands, and it does so at length. Well and good, let's just get started and stick the cock in where her tongue is.
Like a lollipop to suck, then at least they're quiet, women, because with all their social worker standards, which they're so keen on, they don't want to hurt a man. Wait a minute, I can still hear moaning, it's passing across a contorted face like clouds across a storm-lashed landscape. Sadly a country policeman doesn't earn much and still has a wife at home, from whom he has wearisomely drifted apart. At any rate they've still got the talking in front of them, while their hand reaches out to a trouser fly. Women can describe places of interest, torture themselves for weeks just for the sake of a moment, wait for years for the next one, be consoled and put off; when at last a brash erection stands ready for the both desired and heedless, headless performance, then all that waiting was in vain, because a human being flowers like a poplar and goes out like a cigarette stub: is forgotten. One simply has to understand women, everything depends on that, everything is dependent on that. Politicians have to do it, too, of course, if only with words, as men we'll perhaps manage it better with actions, something new for once, and all our actions are now really the last thing. A true act of love, if one meanwhile had more and better things to do. Sometimes even jogging has to be dropped. Then the country policeman takes his own car, it's for a good cause, this lady in the side street next to the local kindergarten has got the itch again today, I have a gut feeling about it, what, it's three weeks since she got it the last time? I would never have thought that it's already so long ago, time to give her a good going over again. What she wants is for her stomach to be pushed down onto the mattress and to be opened up fast, intended for immediate use, because she has long been open to everything, but only rarely has the opportunity to get well oiled when she does open up. So that the creaking of the hinges (the secret drawer isn't pulled out so often!) doesn't sound so loud. There are little children next door, a whole crowd of them!
Basically everything can be done with women, it's as if they had done something wrong and wanted to be punished. And whatever has never been done with them, that's what they want to do more than anything else. That goes as much against the grain with men as sitting down at a piano and not being able to play. But it has to be, the pleasant comes with the useful, cheek comes with a certain behavior, a rebuke never comes because one doesn't even wait for it. One simply does it first. Afterwards it's done, and one isn't prepared to discuss it with the next woman, although she will likewise want to know all about it, whatever. With women, not even the obvious comes of its own accord, it first has to be explained and shown to them, once they've been surprised by a firm grip of breasts and sex organs. Oh, but that wouldn't have been necessary! I'm obedient, even without you bringing me these pralines, you can get them here in the Merkur Super Market, to which people hurry from afar with winged feet, I'm sure for less than what you paid for them. But after a while they already know in advance what to expect and open up already wearing the transparent dressing gown they got by mail order, or without it. With a little training even the age doesn't matter, even if one would prefer to train something younger. But the commonplace ones are at least modest in their requirements.
All of this costs men like Kurt Janisch time and money, in return they can deposit their worn-out furniture and exchange it for a three-piece suit, if they're lucky; please, there's still plenty of room inside me, the children are outside or have already left home, I'm happy to hold the little back room open for you so that it's not too much trouble. I'll also make a little room out of myself, if that's what's wanted, just for you, well, what do you say to that? I'm enthusiastic, because your spare room, in fact the whole apartment, is exactly what I've wanted for a long time. Now let's give it all a good scrub, agreed?
Those actions, however, to which one turns, when one has nothing to say, and a woman doesn't want to sign something precipitately without having read it, bring in even more time (when the woman is finally dead) and money, a good investment. It doesn't happen without an effort on the part of the policeman and his son, who, although still young, is already infinitely versatile. A man of many faces, a multi-Janus head, pumped up with synthetic vitamins, so that one doesn't see his features all that clearly anymore, yes, that's the sort of head the young man has on his shoulders. Just take a look at him, if anyone is capable of finding favor, then he is. The son is also very good with his hands and can do any amount of other work, apart from installing wiring. His father, however, comes first for him, and his father goes over dead bodies, which when they were alive had been a side-dish for his meat. Why then do the policeman and his son have nothing but debts? Why have they lost everything that they already had? I don't know. The father can advise us, the father can judge us and save us, so that we can always keep an eye on what's ours. I don't actually believe that it's the first time in the history of the Country Police force that one of its representatives will have done such good business with kind-hearted death, who only fetches his own, never strangers. Death fetches those he has already marked. In that he is like the forester. Normally these public servants trained in the use of firearms only shoot their families, and even then only when it is necessary, because the latter wanted to run away. Afterwards at any rate they're left with the houses and the ground. But then they only have their little upper story to themselves, and that's precisely what they take a shot at. If they survive it and haven't put themselves away at the same time, then later on they shoot themselves in the head.