Last Friday, I started a new story. This is the first time I do something like this. A little series!
What happened? A little recap.
This was also the very first time I came there.
A music concert for free.
Me in a crowd.
Then — I noticed someone.
Dithered.
Brain busy.
Shouldn’t I try and follow?
Say something?
But … what at all should I say if I arrived?
Read the full story there if you missed it!
A sunlit evening
Sometimes, an awkward feeling is not there to tell us something about the situation we’re in in that specific moment. It can emerge from a thought we suddenly have, so to say, between the lines of what we’re doing.
A few seconds and guitar beats later, he was gone.
What a pity!
Thoughts came:
Probably he had just left the place and went home.
Probably he had.
Or just met someone over there.
Of course he was with someone else.
What a silly way to think he wasn’t?
At least, so I thought!
But … I was … or even: I am still here.
One thing is certain: All of the above was just logical half-knowledged reasoning. Nothing I actually knew about.
It’s the drafts we write in our heads before we even move.
Made of what we experienced most of the time.
We might have seen similar things.
So our assumptions appear to be facts.
I didn’t know the place yet.
That’s why I missed out on something: that there was nothing but a rest room, so … they might just … have needed one, which could indicate they enjoyed the scene and probably had a beer and a place to walk back to, or at least must have come out of the cabin a few minutes later anyway.
I mistook the spot, we might say.
Well, let’s just imagine how this could have gone on.
I take my bags and move on towards where he left.
My feet feel uncertain, yet I don’t want to make the crowd notice me.
Coming closer to the corner, I see a grey fence completely enclosing the space, without a door in it. Clearly, there is no way to go and leave, there are only the two cabins, one for women, the other one for men — which is free…
I look around, trying to recognize anyone but it’s useless.
As the other cabin is still occupied, I stand still, waiting …
however, not like anyone else.
Not for an open door,
but for an idea what to do next.
Uncertain about myself, my eyes find rest on a poster announcing an upcoming event. It seems to be an opening exhibition or something. Intriguing image. Place and date? I can’t read part of the text as my view is blocked. I choose to walk closer to it.
“Hello? Can you help me?”
I turn around. A woman, a bit shorter than me, with grey hair and an old walking-stick umbrella is looking at me.
“What’s the shortest way to the station or a bus here?”
I point at a house: “Station is quite near. Walk along there until … there comes a bar, and then turn left where the … look, can you see that yellow …”
Before I finish my sentence, she thanks and goes away. Perhaps my explanations weren’t easy enough. Or didn’t I speak loud enough as the music absorbs half of my voice? Anyway, she’ll find it or can ask someone else.
The music finds its way back into my ear.
… round was dry
But the air was full of sound
I've been through the desert
On a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
My thoughts go astray to times when I didn’t yet have a smartphone and there was no one else around, so I got the shivers, as it could take me a few minutes to find someone to ask, while I start moving towards the place I came from. Not directly through the crowd, more drifting by aside of them, where they queue up to buy something.
Or that other marvellous day when I was out to get some groceries, both hands full of bags with weight to save as much of my precious time as I could, no raincoat, but an umbrella when — of course — the rain started coming down in sheets … so imagine that awkward position which must have made me look funny but nobody saw it.
Thinking about rain on this sunny day, wearing a T-shirt, why? Perhaps it’s that song.
A moment later, I feel something on my forearm just when I hear a voice:
“Caution! Take care of your steps! Oh, I’m … sorry, um, …”
Only then, I recognize him.
I laugh, trying a “oh hey, no worries, … it’s just my skin” when my gaze arrives at the whole mess.
“Are you standing around here so long? Why won’t you just come over, I’m there with my friends,” pointing at the corner with the few benches, “but we’d probably fix that first, shouldn’t we?”, pointing at the fresh spot of mustard on my bag.
“Oh! But how …”
“Wait a second, I got an idea …”
He turns around, asks for a wet napkin and comes back with a paper towel which smells like fresh rinsing agent.
“Here you are!”
My thoughts run off again, what’s that reminding me of?
“It looks as beautiful as if you just bought it.”
„You’re kidding, sun already took part of the colour. It’s many years old …“ Thereby, we walk over, this time further away from the sounds.
“Nice to meet you! I’m working up there …”
“Oh, amazing … buuut, do you really come from here? You don’t sound that much Bavarian, do you?”
“No, you’re right. I’m from Berlin, I’ve studied there …”
“Me too, … I’m not from Berlin, however. I’ve spent quite some time there …” —
“Oh, and then?” — “Been through a desert on a horse with no name.” — “Really?” — “Haha … no, I can’t even ride … but at least, I can drive.”
My gut tries to comment something I don’t want to admit.
Dee Dee Dee Dee … doo doo doo doo doo …
One of the others puts a hand on his shoulder: “We two went to school together …”, looking at me: “lady, would you like a beer?”
“Yes … oh, I’m thirsty, and, here, (taking out some money) just get me one of these …”
“Leave it, … you’re invited.”
“Thank you! — How do I even … deserve all of this?”
Sun sets behind the building, no need for my jacket yet.
“Crêpes, there, anyone? They’re playing a song about France now…”
Me: “Oh! I can even say I’ve been there. Just a few trips from that town where we stayed. Flammkuchen often served there is one of my favourites and I know a place in Munich too.” — “Amazing! I’m staying down there! Let’s go there soon! … ”
We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files
We'd like to help you learn to help yourself
Look around you, all you see are sympathetic eyes
Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home
And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson …
The music reaches the limits, the crowd is singing with lyrics part of which I’ve never heard, then an extra song, before they finally pack and the place becomes half empty. We do, too. — “Folks, my plane goes tomorrow, I’ll better leave now, byyyye!” — To me: “Where are you going now?” — “Station, then I’ll change at Munich Hauptbahnhof …” — “Oh nice, yay! We can take the train together then!”
Reality was different — and here’s how:
I take my bags and slowly walk off the place. My feet are half uncertain and half heavy from disappointment, yet I don’t want to leave. So I stop, turn left and take a look at the counters selling food and drinks.
… where have you gone, Joe D…
Hungry and not yet having swallowed my disappointment, I cannot quite decide whether I want bratwurst or crêpes … basically neither of them will help fix my mood, which is confusingly mixed up. I don’t remember which song played when of course, but one of them had a topic like this: Should I stay or should I go now? That song only fits too well, I notice.
Defiantly enough, I just decide to get myself a drink. The queue is the shortest but still I’ll have to wait until it‘s my turn.
When I get it, suddenly my hands get shaky so I spoil it all by making myself wet with the white wine I just bought … how could I dare to look around at all? I wish I could simply become invisible!
I vanish, hiding behind the anonymous crowd, as fast as I can walk, towards the narrow streets with fewer people, where I can hear my steps hit the ground.
A few minutes later, I sat on a train escaping back into boredom, partly disappointed, partly wondering what all of this was doing to me … I could’t quite explain or even truly admit my mixed emotions.
Something felt different … as if I wasn’t walking down the same stairs, as if I’d just …, although next day appeared just ordinary. Heat wordlessly reached out into any space.
Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon (I didn’t have one…)
Going to the candidates' debate …
One last word today:
Sometimes, all we need is a safe place, where we feel seen, and be reassured to not come back home thirsty. So if you feel the same, then you can leave a coin here (I’ll promise I’m not going to the fun fair where the pavements are crowded and a »Mass« is 10x the price of the coffee I had in Berlin):
Until next time!
"bratwurst or crêpes" that's a life question! Wonderful piece Daniela, have a great Saturday!
Heyyy Daniela, you know what I liked most about this was how the the "imagined" version became so vivid and detailed that it almost felt like a memory, all while the reality of it all only ended with you leaving, slowly. It made me think about hesitation and that hesitation doesn't just cost us an opportunity, it can really create an entire parallel life in our heads, complete with conversations, music, and endings that never had the chance to exist.
I digress...you're always incredibly clever! 🫶