Sunday

I woke up on Sunday around 9:30 with the sun in my face. I wasn't at all upset about being awakened so early. It was the first weekend I had woken up, excited about the day. The weather was supposed to be amazing, I had made plans to go to some Biergartens that day with Tim and I had a ticket to see Jose Gonzalez in St. Jakobskirche in Dachau that night. I got out of bed and made some coffee with the French press and had some toast. I smoked a cigarette on the windowsill and felt the warmth of the day blowing through the streets. I took a shower and saw that Tim had called. I got dressed and was on my way out the door. I walked down Blümenstraße towards Gärtnerplatz. I was meeting Tim at the Deutsche Eiche for beers. I toasted to "Happy Alumni Weekend" and I reminded him that two years ago Whitney was giving him a beer bong in Pat's backyard. We talked about how crazy we are to leave all of this behind. I told him of the conversation I had had the previous night with Brett, Sam, Blake, Rizzo, Pat, etc. They were all in Macado's drinking beer outside and having lunch. I told them I was a bit jealous and happy that they could all get together. There I was, drinking Bavarian beer in my flat in Munich alone while they were all together in Salem drinking Bud Lights together. I tried to pretend like the beer made it easier for me to be so far away from home, but it really didn't. German beer can only keep you company for so long. It doesn't get my jokes (no one else does either though). I did begin to miss all that. But, do I really need to pretend like I'm back in college again? Would I get into that? Not even pretending to be in college, but pretending to be a crazy alcoholic college student who, in the spirit of things, will drink for 12 hours at the bar and it's called normal. Hmm...This time last year, I was trying to do a keg stand on my own, and walked inside with a broken cigarette hanging out of my mouth, or having a conversation with a Mexican guy who wandered from the yard next door. I don't speak Spanish, but I apparently talked to him for 30 minutes or so.
So after the beer at the Eiche, we walked to the Englischergarten to meet up with Luke. He was bringing beers and potato salad. Tim and I got the Chineschertürm (or Chinese Tower) and ordered two maß biers and sat in the sun and enjoyed watching the people enjoy every ounce of the beautiful weather. Where else could so many people get together and drink peacefully without the presence of police? Not in America...and definitely not in England. Luke brought the food and after a lovely meal, we decided to go lay out in the sun and listen to the drum circle that meets every week. As soon as we found a spot to lay down, my shoes and socks and shirt were all off. I laid down and basked like a reptile, digesting his food. I fell asleep for a few minutes and was woken up by Tim splashing beer on me. I sat up and groggily talked to him for a few minutes before he got up to leave. I walked to the toilet and bought some ice cream cones for Luke and I on the way back. We finished the last of the beer and headed back. We took the U-bahn to Sendlinger Tor and strolled back to the flat.
I made a cup of tea and we watched TV on the internet. After a few minutes, Ilana walked in with good news. She had scored some weed. She split it with Luke and immediately packed a bowl. After that, Luke rolled a spliff. And I had to get to Dachau and find this church in less than an hour. I drank a little bit of water and headed out. I walked the familiar route to Hauptbahnhof, bought a Coke and caught the train to Dachau.
I realized I had to pee as soon as I got on the street. The Coke was probably a bad choice as well. I told Rachel later after the show that maybe drinking 3 liters of beer, a cup of tea, a glass of water and a Coke before going to a concert. So, there was no public toilet at the train station. I called Rachel and she said she had gotten a ride from some guys who had stopped to ask them directions to the show. She suggested I find someone else with a car and ask them for a ride or take a taxi. I saw no one with "Noch Jose Ganzalez" signs on their cars, nor taxis, nor toilets. I found the map of the city at the Bahnhof, had a general idea of where to go in my head and started walking. I walked for about 10 minutes before I stopped myself and thought "John, stop walking and ask someone where you're going. You'll be walking for hours if you don't, like you do every other day in the city." So, I swallowed my quasi-male pride and stopped and asked at a gas station where it was. He took me outside in front of the store and pointed to a huge building on top of the hill at the end of the street. He said "Stay always on this street and then it (pantomimes forks) and you must go left and up." "Super!" I said, "Danke schön" and started again, regretting not asking for a toilet. I walked and walked all the time considering if I should duck into a garden or find some restaurant that I could sneak into. Nothing that looked appealing. I got to the end of the street and began the ascent up to the church. It was a cool night, but I started to sweat. Either because I had been drinking beer in the sun all day or because I had to pee, I wasn't sure. I found an Italian restaurant on the way up and looked inside. I didn't see any signs for the toilet in the restaurant, but to my left there was a staircase leading down. 9 times out of 10, a German toilet will be downstairs. So, I went to have a look around. I went down one flight, no toilet, to flights and I saw what looked like the kitchen or storage area or something. I was in the wrong place. I dashed upstairs and hoped that no one had seen me snooping around. Up the hill I went. My face felt hot and every bush I saw seemed an oasis of peace and relief. But how could I pee on the side of the street in Dachau. It seemed somehow wrong to me. Disrespectful, maybe.
I got to the top of the hill and saw the church. It had to be the right one. I walked around the corner and asked the old ladies working there "Haben Sie ein Karte für John Sutton?" They laughed and said yes, of course. I turned to walk up the stairs to the church, got my hand stamped and my ticket ripped and looked over at the sign that said "Toilette" and had a hand point the other direction. I asked where it was and they told me right and around the corner. So I started walking again. The only thing around the corner was a restaurant. I walked inside and asked "Wo ist dei Toilette." The waitress said it's right through here. Which meant, of course, up two flights of stairs. I walked up there and there was a guy in there pulling a bag of paper towels out. He was standing in the door when I opened and, for a moment, I thought for sure that it would be closed for cleaning. He looked at me straight on for about 2 seconds before I said "Entschuldigen" and stepped around him. He would have had to fight me to keep me out of there. I peed and it felt like a great pressure had lifted from me. Not just bladder pressure but the anxiety and weirdness of going to see a concert in the city of the first concentration camp. I had my ticket, the city was just a city and I was seconds away from going inside the church and being able to relax for a while.
I walked inside the church and the opening act was on. I found Rachel and Franz upstairs and we knelt on the pew at the front of the balcony and uncomfortably watched the long-haired teenager play the last few songs of his set.
To be continued...