cobble-stoned on buses

i forgot about this part: slipping and sliding in the snow that's melting into slush on the sidewalks. with boots that have not an inkling of traction. this morning i woke up to a whirlwind of snowflakes. finally. i missed christmas in germany and thus the few inches of snow and the winter walk. instead i walked the cobblestoned streets of an ancient northern town. a beautiful town. with nice people saying hello to you in coffee shops. all you had to dodge was the dogshit. not a good thing to drag into someone's house. haha. i remember once going on the bus with a pile of doo under my foot and everyone knew who had caused the stink cause the steps lead straight to me. guilty.

i hated that bus. some left-over from world war one, i presume. in the winter we had to wait for thirty minutes before we could go home and skip school. so of course it would show up twentynine minutes late, sputtering and squeaking with age. inside the icicles were forming on the seats. then it drove slowly for an hour, precariously, leaving a black cloud of burnt fuel in the white blanket on the road. all i remember of german winters is being cold, wearing so many layers my boyfriend always complained about having to peel off me. the last year i spent a winter here before my prolonged hiatus in sunny l.a., i finally found the best solution for my cold feet: moonboots. not too flattering a look but in the end i had warm feet.

but then it was a bit difficult to drive with these. and it was the goddamn bus again. driving my mother's renault 4 down a steep hill on cobblestone i noticed that i no longer had control over the car. at the bottom of this said steep hill i saw a bus, just standing across the intersection. i was nearing disaster and frantically stepped on the brakes. but then the element of size almost caused my demise. size of the vehicle before me, size of the articles on my feet. cause as i push i step on both the brake and the accelerator, speeding toward a crash. then a miracle happens, the bus moves and my little car slips past it, barely...

barely was also the time when i got into the car of a heavily intoxicated stranger who then proceeded to drive about 80 mph in the wrong direction out of town, heading straight for some trees. the slightly less drunk man on the passenger seat reacted only within the last seconds, grabbing the steering wheel, veering the vehicle away from the slender obstacles so that only the rear tire brushed against the trunk. we drove home slowly, limping on three wheels... i've always considered a possibility that one of me died and another me kept on living in a different dimension. or it's like in that bierce story where the guy getting hanged doesn't know it and gets away running across a stream only to realize he didn't when his neck snaps. call me crazy. don't care.

so anyway. i did not fall on my ass. even with these stupid boots that i love so much. but my socks are wet and i hate that...