Renate Dittmann
/Favourite Fraulein
"Some of my best friends are Germans," said the man in the Piccadilly bar. "Oh? Why?" asked the second man whose name was Smith.
"I come from Munich,” said the first man.
"I tell you what," said Smith, eyeing a svelte redhead who'd just come in with a virile-looking guitar-player, "I'd like my best friend to come from West Berlin.”
"Please explain more," said the man from Munich, "I am most interested, although it is not in West Berlin where you will find the most happy Germans, but in Munich. I am from Munich.”
"And very nice too, " said Smith sort of non-commit tally. "But I'm not thinking of someone like you. It's been a pleasure meeting you, but l've got a different shape in mind. It's a girl.
"Ah," said the man from Munich.
"She's my favourite fraulein," said Smith, "and her name is RENATE DITTMANN and she doesn't half make my tonsils twitch. Talk about sex appeal. I certainly couldn't wish for a best friend better than her. We could have some marvellous outings to museums. How are you on museums?"
"I am fine. How are you on German beer?"
"Well, if you insist,” said Smith, "I’II have another lager and a hot frank-furter.”