Photo: dpa/Mark Lennihan
BerlinI’m worried about my girlfriend in New York. The corona numbers there are going through the roof. She also has a catering company that is no longer doing so well and must now have run out of jobs. Because her rent is constantly increasing, my friend often moves. Always further away from the city center. The last time I visited her, I was walking through social housing estates. I took a taxi on the way back. At night it is better not to walk alone here anymore, said my friend and smiled.
The American dream
She is the bravest woman I know. In her early twenties, she moved from her Swedish hometown to New York, went to a fashion school, got married, had a son, her husband cheated on her, she struggled by herself. When we met, she was just starting her company. She tried her dishes on me. I took the photos for their website at the weekly market in Union Square. A blonde woman between herbs and vegetables, a European in New York.
Read here: Home office: Puberty and the corona crisis are a toxic mixture
She worked day and night, cooking for Robert de Niro and Matt Damon, supplying the rich in the Hamptons with canapés and cocktails on sultry summer evenings. When I went to sleep she would write offers for customers, when I got up she was already back in her kitchen. Her plan was to break through, make enough money to one day lead a carefree life in Europe. The American dream.
No recovery from the financial crisis
Her second marriage failed after a year, her son was pulled away and no longer took to the streets without a knife, her company never recovered from the financial crisis, and my friend canceled her health insurance because it was too expensive. Sometimes I asked her if it wasn’t better to go back home. We talked about it when I visited her in September too. She said Sweden was too tight for her and she also had to get her company up and running first before selling it. She just had a herniated disc and could barely move. But she cooked as wonderfully as ever.
Read here: Families in Quarantine: A Mixture of Apocalysis and Biedermeier
“It’s over”
I imagine how she is sitting alone in her apartment, waiting for orders. I am writing a message. A minute later my cell phone rings.
“I’m moving,” says my friend.
“Again?” I ask.
“No, not here in New York, back to Sweden. Today. The apartment is already empty. Corona gave me the rest. It’s over.”
Best news in a long time
I do not know if I should laugh or cry. My girlfriend lived in New York for 30 years, I can’t imagine the city without her, and she can’t imagine without the city. But it’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time, and suddenly I think that maybe the crisis will bring out some good things too.
Tomorrow in the home office: Ruth Herzberg is just happy to be a single parent
– .
