Florian is a cleaner in a sex club - and loves it
Florian, 38, cleans in a gay sex club - and has never been happier.
It's Friday, 9.30 a.m., near a motorway somewhere in Berlin-Schöneberg. The sky is grey and it looks like it's going to rain soon. In a large driveway, right next to a car repair shop, there is a sex club for gay men that is barely recognisable as such from the outside. There was a fisting party at the club yesterday. The entrance fee for guests is based on the expected cleaning effort - yesterday it cost a whopping 18 euros. Now, a few hours after the event, Florian's working day begins. He is the cleaner.
A curtain made of thick, transparent plastic hangs in the dark entrance area of the sex club. Right behind it is a bar where Florian is smoking a cigarette. Behind the bar, huge posters hang on the wall behind plexiglass. One of the posters shows a picture of two men peeing in the face of another man in a paddling pool. Beneath it is a selection of lubricants and high-proof alcohol. Florian has been working here for six years. He is about 1.60 metres tall, has short black hair, a three-day beard and wears a black tracksuit. He is the person who cleans the club five days a week. When all the lights are switched on and there are no more guests.
The club extends over three floors. After Florian has smoked his cigarette, he walks up the stairs. Due to a disability in his right leg and arm, he walks with a limp. Once upstairs, he walks across the sticky floor - probably a mixture of lubricant and sperm - into a kitchen. He takes cleaning cloths, gloves and a bucket from a cupboard. Then he goes into the bathroom right next door. Florian always starts with the showers and toilets. He pours water into the bucket and sanitises the anal shower first. A few hours earlier, men were still rinsing their arseholes here. "It's often full of poo splashes," he says. But today it looks harmless. He doesn't mind scrubbing away other people's faeces. Otherwise he wouldn't be able to do the job.
Florian is originally from Romania, from Slobozia, a city in the south-east of the country, two hours from the Black Sea. He has been living in Berlin for 11 years. He came here because there were no prospects for him in his home country. He earned too little and nothing else held him back. Florian's childhood and youth in Romania were characterised by violence. He talks openly about his past and it almost seems as if he is happy that someone is asking.
I didn't even know what chocolate was until I was 16 or 17 years old
His parents left him in hospital immediately after his birth and he grew up in a children's home. "It was very bad," he repeats again and again, shaking his head and looking down at the floor. "I didn't even know what chocolate was until I was 16 or 17 years old." From the age of 6, he was beaten every day and lived in constant fear. He was threatened with a beating at any time and for no reason. "At night, two men would sometimes pull me out of bed with my blanket and throw me into the cold water," he says. During the day, he had to go begging on the street with the other children. The carers collected the money afterwards.
Florian has had the disability since he was 10 years old. One of his carers got angry at some point because Florian couldn't give him the money he had collected. He had already given it to another carer. Because the man refused to accept this, he grabbed Florian by the foot and arm and threw him onto the floor three times with full force. He suffered several broken bones and was hospitalised - he is still struggling with the consequences to this day.
At the same age, Florian was forced to have oral sex by another teacher. "That was terrible," he says. "I was just too young." The man always came into Florian's bedroom when the other children were away. He raped him for a long time. When he talks about it, he always smiles, as if he is shaking off the thoughts and replacing them with new ones. The experience was traumatic. He still wakes up at night and has nightmares. Florian is therefore still certain: "That's how I became gay."
Later, at the age of 13 or 14, he was paid for sex for the first time. A teacher from his school, who had a wife and children, gave him cigarettes or chocolate in return. Florian seems proud when he talks about it. "We looked at each other for a long time and smiled several times, then at some point it happened," he says and laughs. "His wife was my geography teacher."
In the sex club, Florian prepares a new bucket after the toilets and showers have been cleaned. In the left-hand corner of the next room hangs a sex swing, where hours earlier men were probably lying and having themselves fisted. Now Florian starts scrubbing it, using a new cleaning cloth than in the previous room. The lubricant, which is used especially for fisting, is always stubborn and difficult to get off. Although he can feel the cleaning agent in his nose, he doesn't wear a face mask. "It makes it so hard to breathe," he says. His skin always dries out from the chemicals and the work puts a strain on his back. "But that's the case with every job," he says and laughs.
I just knew how to say 'Can I have a cigarette, please?
In Berlin, he first ended up on the gay street in Tiergarten in 2009. He started prostituting himself because he didn't speak German and didn't know anyone. "I only knew how to say 'Can I have a cigarette, please? "The winters were particularly hard." One year, he slept in a sleeping bag on a stony floor near a toilet block. "I could only ever sleep until three or four in the morning," he says. He never took drugs, although many of the men around him used them every day. When he didn't have customers, he went to an internet café during the day. He warmed up there and searched online for other men who would pay him for sex. He demanded at least 50 euros, other men in Tiergarten were already fucking their customers for 10 euros.
He went to social centres to eat and shower until one of the men he met in the park took him into his home. But the relationship didn't last. Then, by chance, he came across an organisation in an internet café that offers Romanians help in Berlin and supports them in their job search. He made an appointment and, with the help of an employee of the organisation, found a cleaning job in a hotel where he could also stay overnight. After that, his life became better and more stable. He later got a job as a cleaner in the gay sauna, where he was a regular customer.
He met his current partner Ralf, who worked there as a masseur, in the gay sauna. He is 16 years older than Florian. "I knew he was going to be my husband when we fucked for the first time," he says. As Ralf also worked at the bar in the sex club on the side, he arranged a job for Florian as a cleaner.
Florian has never had his own flat. "It's too difficult to find a flat as a Romanian," he says. Today he lives with Ralf, just a few metres away from the sex club. The couple own a small garden plot in Potsdam and they travel the world together on holiday. Brazil is next on the agenda. "I never thought I would ever be able to travel," says Florian. Together with Ralf, he also flew to Romania and got to know his home country anew, away from its painful past. "Romania can also be a beautiful country," he says. However, he didn't show his partner the location of his children's home, even though he asked. It was simply too painful. Although Florian likes his job, the strain on his body is now simply too great. The hard physical labour is difficult to reconcile with his disability. That's why he struggled with the authorities and the paperwork for a long time - with success. In just one month, he will be entitled to an early disability pension. "Ralf helped me a lot," he says. His voice changes, he almost whispers. Ralf has also put him in touch with a psychologist with whom he can talk about his time in the children's home. His partner gives him strength, says Florian, shaking his head and looking into space with a smile, as if he can't believe how lucky he is. "This man is my lottery win."
