Absinthe Minded Journal

I walked across the pedestrian bridge and witnessed 30 meters away hundreds of walkers assembled where my auto was. They were either standing on my auto, some very short women, or the city has towed my auto?

My car was history. Taken away obviously by the polizea. One would think that row of portable toilets, all nine of them in a row- that the new toilets was a clue to move my car, absinthe-drunken or not, my mind was too at ease, and felt too care-free to feel anything but the beautiful absinthe buzz, and that I am in the ville of Solothurn, where wild, bohemian, undefeated people spin in time.

The car was towed. Only thing to do next is to proceed to the Hotel Krone, my next destination for two days, and check in. Then ask clerk in reception where the municipality has towed the stupid tourist’s car. Only, I have been visiting for 18 years, so the world keeps changing and catching up to me.

There is one thing about life and death, when it’s your time; it’s your time. Some people push their destiny faster by fast living. All things have an ending.

This is the harsh acceptance for everyone. Between these thoughts flies life, happiness, misery, luck and misfortune.

At the desk of the Hotel Krone, Sandra was there. I asked where the police take poorly placed cars?

“Ohhh, that was your car, Mr. Steel,” Sandra said. “The police called at 6:00 a.m. looking for the guest. They woke up the proprietor, Marie-Therese.”

(You see, it’s the owner of the biggest hotel that received the police call at 6:00 a.m. Sunday).

Sandra explained that the police assumed by all the maps strewn all over the front, and valises everywhere that this was a guest of Hotel Krone. A guest who could not read German!

No Parking 6:00 a.m.-to- 6:00 p.m. Sunday

(In large, bold red letters)

Off to the Solothurn police station outside the walls to find where my car was towed, and what I have to pay, and to retrieve the car. Plus, to aid my absinthe hangover – my only two sunglasses were in the car to add some extra punishment to my aching retinas. All this Sunday trouble is from the sun tower city punishing me for losing my way. What an ideal manner to spend a Sunday morning and afternoon undertaking. Everyone else is relaxing and having a good Sunday – while I have to find the police station, and hope the policeman who is on duty Sunday is in a pleasant Sunday mood.

We will skip the sweat and fun time at the police station. It was Sunday morning, 10:45 a.m.

I will still win the day back from this silly misfortune, absinthed-laced error from the night before.

The policeman, only one man working – wrote down the information:

Kunz Carrosserie & Motorsport AG

Haupstrasse 75