Saturday, August 29, 2009

Hamburg's Most Wanted.

I hate the days where I'm at school all day and can't run home before class to eat.  The hunger makes my stomach sing and becomes all I can think about.  This was the state I was in when I became one of Hamburg's Most Wanted.

I was at school. I was exhausted. It was hard to think straight after writing headlines and body copy all day.  It was time to take a break and get some fuel.  If I stayed at school any longer, the only good it would do was, well, nothing.  

The two-toned yellow and white lights of a Subway sign drew me in from the darkness like a moth.  It was time to eat.  I stepped up and ordered the goods. 

Did I have a ten or a twenty in my wallet?  As I unfolded the leather, all I saw was black.  No euros.  No money.  

My foot long sweet onion chicken teriyaki on honey wheat was ten seconds away from finishing the toasting process.  Think Matt. Think.

Can't think.  All my brain could muster were puns and bad headlines.  

Have to think. Have to do something.  Must get out.

I'm not proud to admit this, but it feels good to say it.  I acted on the first idea I came up with: fake the important phone call.

Wait. I don't have a phone because I'm in Germany.  No problem.  I'll use my wallet.

Yes, I took an important phone call from my wallet.  "Hello? What? What? I can't hear anything!" 

When my sandwich artist turned around to take my edible canvas out of the oven and decorate it with toppings, I walked outside to get better reception on my wallet phone.

Keep walking. Don't look back. Keep walking.

I was hungry. I was exhausted.  All I could think was they're probably chasing me at the same power walking pace.  Keep walking.

I walked until I stumbled across a random art exhibit. Old newspaper clippings and screen printed posters or propaganda from World War II covered the white walls.  I was staring through the one grand window and realized people were looking at me.  Time to mingle.

I sauntered into the exhibit and walked around. The floor was destroyed.  It was ancient concrete and looked like it housed a family of five who spent their free time playing with jackhammers in the living room.  

Onto the next room.  This was when I realized there was a line.  I wandered into a line which came out of nowhere.  As I looked around, I couldn't see where this line of German conversationalists ended. So, I went with it.  

It wound around the room I was in and into a new bigger room I hadn't seen before.  Collapsable picnic tables were set up around the entire room.  People sat on the other side stamping hands and collecting Euros.  

Then I realized it.  You had to pay to see the art exhibition.  I was eight people away from the table.  What do I do now?  How do I get out of here?  I was three people away from the table.

Suddenly, my wallet phone rang.  

I tried not to make eye contact with people. I didn't want to see their judgmental artistic eyes.  

Keep walking. Don't stop.  There's probably a crowd of twenty unique rebels chasing me with tickets and stamps.  

Keep walking.


Post a Comment