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Sie sind hier: Home » Girl Friday – the Book of Bad » Girl Friday – the Book of Bad 35. TrafficJamSlamBang
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Gabbi WernerGirl Friday – the Book of Bad 35. TrafficJamSlamBang

Von | 11.04.2014, 0:01 | Kein Kommentar

There are no speed limits on German highways. But what´s the point of being in a hurry to reach Frankfurt, of all places?

Welcome. To the stories I told in many hotelrooms. To a man who had trouble falling asleep. A business deal. He paid for my words.

Here they are.

*

The car ride back to Frankfurt was exhausting. R. was driving. I could overhear parts of his conversation with Maiko. It was scattered over the insanely loud Techno tracks that Maiko put in the CD player. They were shouting to one another, recapturing the day. It was dark outside, the lights of the other cars shone into my eyes way too brightly. R. was speeding. At some moment, we just dashed by every car that was ahead of us. I had to convince myself that we would not crash into a truck or slip over to the other side of the highway. I had to keep my eyes on the speedometer, to try to make it go under 200 by sheer will power. Under 200 we would be safe. I wanted to be safe. R. and Maiko were elated, apparently the meeting in Cologne had gone well. I kept counting the distance we travelled in my mind, to figure out how much longer I would be stuck in that car with them. The speed we were going, it should not take any longer than an hour.
Towns my family passed on our summer holidays in the Seventies and the Eighties, in our Simca, slowly getting along in the traffic jam, just seemed to vanish before I knew we had reached them. I kept begging for the car to slow down, tried to imagine that R. had to go to the toilet or something, so that I just could get out for two minutes and regain my breath. The air we slid through seemed to congest my lungs, it pushed itself onto my sternum, the sound of it drumming into my ears, in a counter-beat to the drums of the house music that pumped through the speakers.  Bang Bang the snare drums went, and my ears banged back. We rushed on.
That whole journey we were taken over by another car just once. The men seemed duly impressed by that driver. R. turned to me: „Did you see that guy, crazy, I say crazy. Amazing, don´t you think?“
Maiko also turned to me, smiling.  Every fraction of a second they were not looking at the road was surely a step closer to our total disintegration. I was mortified. My jaws were making involuntary chewing movements. R. looked back at the road, then turned to me again.
„Crazy!“
I did not have the courage to ask him to slow down, he would have found it amusing and, probably, only sped up more. I tried to smile and counted the streetlights we passed, deducting the space in between them from the distance ahead of us. Ignoring all the traffic, we passed.
I had once heard that BMW had a special treat for rich Chinese customers: After the purchase, they are allowed to do a test drive in Bavaria. No speed limits there on the highways. One road is called the Panorama Highway. It leads through a fairy-tale landscape. The main asset of that highway is the road as such. It folds itself like a garland around the mountains. Curves, bends, tunnels in abundance. The clients are accompanied by a professional rally driver. They can speed along for as long as they like and as fast as they want to. Not a single speeding ticket, just good clean high-speed fun.
When we finally reached the hotel, I wanted to just lie down and go to sleep, but R. had other plans. He wanted a story. And afterwards, he said, we would go out. There I sat, on my chair. In Frankfurt. Again.
I lit a cigarette, had my cup of tea, and talked.

To be Continued. Next Friday. Every Friday. From 09.00h.

Link to German Translation: click  Girl Friday – Buch des Bösen 35. TrafficJamSlamBang

Artwork: Gabbi Werner

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