The man with the hat In Munich he was alive, the man with the hat. It all started quite innocently: motorcycle ride together. I wanted to write about it, he seemed to make quite decent photos, so why not. The idea was to meet in the middle, somewhere between here and Munich to go a round and a chat.
View From the first I would like to again reversed. I would now do, turn around, my tent set up somewhere alone. At that time I was nice.
red-green color blind, he was, he said. Never mind, I thought. Until he gave me snow-white long underwear revealed after he virtually unquestioned in my tent, which was not even my tent, had slipped. Wide next to me was as if the most natural thing in the world. I was surprised. Everything. The red-green color blindness, long underwear (in his own way ...),
know shame that I once again alone must continue, he said the next day when we parted. Let's get out of here, I thought I moved five times, because I stupidly for the corner where I was traveling, had a map. After all, the day ended with a decent sunset and a lonely journey through the dark Odenwald.
At home waiting for no one, only the light of the answering machine.
apparently was not the white long johns daunting enough - two weeks later I was on the way back from Italy with a stop in Munich. We met and traipsed through some park it with pride to his city, not willing to pay for my coffee. Oh God, I thought, well that I am not here knows, I do not want to be seen next to a man with a Tyrolean hat. So I made myself small, I quickly crawled into the pocket and fled on the train - when I pressed the flowers brought to the nearest old lady in his hand: "I've got a cut flower allergy - and against men with hats."
