A few years ago I read a report on how your life was a complete waste if you weren’t falling in love, or writing a book, or doing something massive while in the train to work. Sub-urban, metro trains they said invoked creativity, in all aspects. The report forgot the mention bus stations outside of U-bahn stations in cities where everyone was rushing to get off the U-Bahn at 8:36 and then catch Bus 144 at 8:38.All AM. Every time I made the connections, I was filled with a sense of pride edging me towards this urban vanity of sorts.
The first time I missed the connection I contemplated walking and then decided to stay put with the threatening rain. I sat cozily between an old frau on one side and an old man with the world’s most beautiful dog on the other side. They didn’t know each other. The dog was obviously bored and wanting out. In her soft old but excited voice, the frau asked him to stop being so fidgety. The man corrected her, it was a she. The woman continued teasing, ‘achso, bist du ein maedchen?’ [so, you’re a girl! ]. At this point I smiled (largely my happiness that I understood her German). Bus 144 arrived. I started. The man kept calling maedchen. After a couple of minutes I turned back and realized he was looking at me offering me a toffee. The frau had also boarded 144. I ignored. We all left. The man and the dog were at the bus station. I missed the bus a second time a week later. They were both still sitting there. I was weird-ed out with the toffee. So, I preferred standing, away. The frau still just talked to the dog. Bus 144 arrived. At 8:48, the bus couldn’t wait any longer. She stayed.
Modern Love: Falling in Love at 71 on Vimeo
A week before I were finally leaving Munich, the U-Bahn arrived late. I missed the 8:38 and waited for the next one. I watched from a distance. There was still a seat between them. As usual she talked to the dog. He talked to her. She replied to the dog. The dog was still, maybe even bored. They repeated. In loops. The bus arrived. I boarded. The three of them noticing and not moving. The bus left.
In 2008 an acquaintance once told me falling in love was easy. You talk yourself into it and out of it. You talk yourself into it by having the girl’s picture set as your smartphone wallpaper. Till you get used to it. And then, that’s love, you force a fall (he tried with two wallpaper changes in four months, it even worked). I’m usually a big fan of planners. But I think love occurs when you’re dizzy near fahrrad stands and especially not wanting to walk to buses while discussing details. About dogs.