FFM: She has taken everything but didn't give anything

"Ah, our colleague has returned to the hotel bar for a nightcap... I've got Angela Merkel."

He wasn't my colleague, it wasn't my hotel, but as to the latter, there she was, her face clasped between his knees as he sat down. More than life size, a full colour print on plastic placard, approximately A0 size. He must have hoisted her off a lamp post by gradually easing her up the pole and over the light fitting.

"So what are you going to do with her now?"

He didn't answer, too busy cherishing her magnified visage, pansticked the colour of cooked salmon. It was one of the few that had not been adorned by now with comments, devil eyes, a square you-know-who moustache. She was pristine and I had to agree when he said:

"She has the bluest eyes."

The waiter came over, expressionless at the sight of a slightly drunken Englishman pawing at his Bundeskanzler. We put another double Scotch on someone or other's tab. I pressed my question again, he shrugged and smiled.

"You haven't thought this through, have you?"

He shook his head and smiled again. The next day at 9:15 a.m. he gave his paper, and he left on an early afternoon plane. We didn't see his luggage.