Different perspectives

Monday 13/7/2015

U-Street & neighborhood 

Alexander Niebler 

Einstein was right. Time moves at different speeds. To me, the previous night raced by in a blur. The morning after was quite different. I sat in U-Street in DC having no idea what to do next. The events of last night came into my mind. How contrasting everything looks like during the day. People were starting to populate the street. Everybody was in a hurry, rushing from one place to another, screaming and shouting, being on the phone or talking to their colleagues, they ignored me as if I would not have belonged to them. As if I would not have been a part of this society. They passed by without taking notice and if they did then by sending a look full of disapproval. Was this the tragedy of the homeless? Of the poor? Of the outsiders? Or was it just an aspect of the American culture? I don't know. Maybe because I was not actually homeless or poor. Maybe because I was one of the few whites in a black neighborhood. Maybe because I was sitting in the street at seven o'clock in the morning wearing a suit and having alcohol breath. They were judging me based on what they saw. I could not forbid them doing this but still they did not know my story.

I looked around again. Ben’s Chili Bowl has just opened. No one was already in there. This was soon going to change as this was a place well known for good breakfast and lunch. Next to Ben’s there were a couple of bars, restaurants and cafes, some finally closed, some not yet open. A Barbour was preparing for his customers. Everybody was on his way to work, it was Monday morning and, contrary to them, I was just sitting in the street doing nothing except watching – and waiting. Suddenly an alarm started to occur. Sounds like this in this area very common. No one cared about them anymore so that it just mixed with the sounds of the city. I did not know yet what I was waiting for, maybe an idea, maybe the power to stand up. The time went as slow as possible. Second for second, minute for minute the heat increased and with it the pain. Suddenly I knew where to go. I stood up and turned right into 14^th Street. I passed some workers on their way to work. The smell of weed mixed with the smell of urine was not the best way to wake up but I didn't care. I stopped my walk at Busboys and Poets and looked at my watch. Five minutes to go. I turned to the windows: People were talking, eating their food and reading books, just like in the old days. I smoothed out my suit, arranged my hair and took a chewing gum. I sat down on the bench next to the restaurant, not able to wait any longer. The heat became unbearable. A fire engine flashed by. My heart rate increased rapidly. I took heavier breaths and started to sweat. Finally I turned round again. She was coming.