You're called Hans, you're 31 years old, and you're coming out of the World Cup match.
Germany just got humiliated by Paraguay (there are more Germans on their team than on yours).
The next day at 6:45 a.m., you're back at work, taxed at 60% to fund the energy transition, gender changes, and social benefits handed out by your government to Eritrean migrants who declare themselves gay just to check the boxes.
This summer, you're spending it under 38 degrees without AC because your ecologist party labeled it a weapon of mass destruction.
At the supermarket, the bratwurst—your favorite sausages—have been replaced by subsidized gray soy KlimaFleisch, paid for by your taxes to save the penguins.
In your open-space office at 27 degrees, you declared yourself "diverse" because that's become the only way to hope for a promotion with affirmative action and DEI.
Hot water costs 18 cents per liter since Russian gas got cut off; you shower in exactly 3 minutes, stopwatch in hand, and your landlady sends you registered letters because your usage exceeds the federal energy threshold. You cry under the lukewarm water.
At 16, you were protesting nuclear power plants, and you went and elected Angela Merkel, who shut them down. Now Russian gas is cut off, your combustion engine industry is tanking, and electricity is a luxury: you're even thinking about burning your IKEA furniture to stay warm this winter.
Meanwhile, your distant cousin Friedrich in Paraguay pays 0% taxes, fires up his Ford V8 5-liter pickup, and gets ready to celebrate the victory around an asado while drinking German beer.
It's gonna be a shitty summer, Hans, and that's just the beginning.
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