Stories from German Everyday Life
I was buying stuff in the supermarket. Actually, I was standing in line with my stuff. An old man (working-class) stood in front of me. His wife (very working-class) was still rummaging around the shelves, searching for rhubarb or something.
She (cutting voice): Do you still have the bottle slip?
—he (hoarse): Yes!
. Short break. She, with a voice to cut diamonds: Man, got a crass job, ay?
I saw an old lady yawn on the train. The carriage was almost empty. She looked a bit to the left, a bit to the right. Then, slowly, she started to open her mouth. The more her mouth opened, the more her eyes shut. In the end, her eyes were shut so hard you could not see them between her cheeks and forehead.
Her face was a volcano. Her mouth the rupture. Her wrinkles were the grooves and ridges on the mountain. Her old skin the grey of the ashes.
It took a long time for that volcano to errupt. It sort of reminded me of a crocodile I once saw in a zoo. Crocodiles do not have sweat glands, so they have to open their mouths to release heat. That particular crocodile from the zoo opened its mouth very slowly. It took about five minutes to fully open.
But an old lady has a different notion of time. When she was born, the world was slow. There were no cars, no airplanes. When she grew up, much around her changed. Cars appeared. People started flying. Al Gore invented the internet. She saw things that are history to us; lists of dates and facts, written in schoolbooks. For her, they aren’t just facts and dates; they are memories. They are her life. No wonder she has to yawn.
Also, she did not cover her yawning with her hand.
Someone had dumped old furniture on the pavement. Everyone could see it from a distance. Everyone but one old gentleman who was walking straight at it. Just as I thought he would collide with a slatted bed base, he abruptly stopped, noticing the obstacle for the first time. After quickly sizing it up, he stomped his cane on the ground. He turned his head to look for the irresponsable person that had dumped this slatted base on the pavement. He could not see anyone.
After some hesitation, the old gentleman decided to shoot the slatted base another look. Upon noticing it was missing all but three slats, he quickly stepped around it and walked on.
Do you have any opinions on the notions conveyed in this text? Send me an e-mail and I’ll publish it here. I might censor it though. Because I can. Because I’m German.
© 2008 Julian Stahnke. or go back to the homepage.