1.
In my high school class in the North German state capital of Kiel, where I grew up, several of the kids were promised a driver's license by their parents. On the condition that they hadn't started smoking by the time they turned 18.
Kind of the opposite happened to me.
With my parents, a license in return for not smoking was never on the agenda. They don't own a car, are absolute non-smokers, and wouldn't approve of that kind of education by reward anyway.
So I was 25 and well into my studies at the Faculty of Law at the Universität Hamburg before I started taking driving lessons that I, obviously, had to pay for myself.
It was the last day of April, I was nine lessons into the course and had a lot of other things on my mind when I met Herr Schwarzbach, the owner of
Fahrschule Schwarzbach,
at five to four on a Tuesday afternoon outside the small shop where I had taken my theory lessons. His purple BMW convertible was parked at the curb.
After deciding to take driving lessons, my financial situation had changed for the worse. I'd had to move to a more expensive apartment with my friend Hannah. And this coincided with my trouble getting enough working hours as a swimming instructor, the job that was financing my legal studies. On top of that, I was studying intensely toward an exam that I desperately needed to pass that summer in order to, eventually, become a lawyer.
So a lot of things came together that week as I sat down behind the wheel with Herr Schwarzbach, a friendly bearded and bearlike man in his late forties or early fifties.
"Let's go!" he commanded. I turned the ignition key, looked back, activated the left indicator and entered traffic. Within seconds I had earned a heartfelt honk from a large black Mercedes behind us.
"Oh, I didn't see that one coming."
"Don't worry. He is going much too fast anyway," Herr Schwarzbach tried to calm me.
It was my first lesson during rush hour and I immediately detected that I was much more stressed out and nervous than during any of the first nine lessons. I kept making silly mistakes and it seemed that one mistake just led to another and increased my nervousness. After a while, Herr Schwarzbach directed me away from the crowded main road an into a quiet neighbourhood of large villas.
"What's wrong with you today, Antje?" he asked. "You're trembling."
He put his large, left paw on the steering wheel. And I noticed that he was right. My hands were shaking.
"Pull over here!" he commanded as I didn't respond. He pointed to a green area in front of us with some benches and a playground.
I managed to park the car by the curb and switch off the engine before I started sobbing quietly.
"Let's get out of the car," he suggested, gently touching my sweatshirt on the right shoulder.
I got out and stood on the sidewalk while he was fetching something from the glove compartment. When he got out, I saw that it was a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Marlboro Golds.
"So you're having a smoke break?" I smiled and tried to wipe away my tears with my fingers, probably just ruining my makeup.
"Please sit down," he said and pointed to the nearest bench.
We sat down next to each other.
"I don't smoke. I was going to offer you a cigarette to calm you down."
"I don't smoke either," I said.
"I keep these in the car to calm down nervous students," he continued without taking notice of what I said. "Cigarettes have a deeply calming effect. I know that from experience. My ex-wife, the former Mrs. Schwarzbach, always had a cigarette when she got nervous."
Herr Schwarzbach handed me a Tempo paper handkerchief and went on.
"Actually, she is the reason I kept buying these cabriolets. They're expensive. But it's nice with some fresh air when you're in a car with a chain-smoker."
"Is she that? Your ex-wife? A chain-smoker?"
"I would say so. At least when she's driving."
"But you're a non-smoker?"
"Always have been. But I'm tolerant with smokers."
"So her smoking wasn't the reason for the breakup."
"No. She left me for another man. A smoker."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Would you like one?"
He held the opened cigarette pack in my direction. I looked at it. There were five or six cigarettes left.
"No thanks. I don't think so," I rejected his offer.
"Okay."
Herr Schwarzbach put down the pack and lighter between us on the bench.
"Is there anything that worries you? I mean apart from learning to drive?" he asked.
It was like pushing a button. Everything burst out of me at once: the exam, the rent, my job situation and the sad fact that I didn't know how to pay for my remaining driving lessons.
"So I have to take a break and come back to you and take the rest of my lessons when I can afford it," I concluded.
Herr Schwarzbach shook his head:
"Don't do that. If you take a break now, you will lose your routine and you'll have to start all over. That would be really stupid."
"Yes. I know. But I don't have the money. I'm sorry!"
"Let me help you, Antje. If you follow my advice, I won't bill you for this lesson."
"Your advice?"
"Yes. Smoke one of these!"
He held up the cigarette pack.
"Why do you want me to?"
"Just to prove my point. You'll see. It really calms you. And you don't have to worry about the money."
I thought about it for a moment. But there was really nothing much to think about. My friendly driving instructor was offering me a lesson for free.
"I'll try it," I said and picked up the cigarette pack. I took a cigarette that turned out to weigh almost nothing between my fingers and placed the filter between my lips. Herr Schwarzbach had already lit the lighter and quickly moved the flame to the end of the cigarette. I sucked in a bit of smoke and removed the cigarette while I quickly exhaled. It tasted chemical, bitter and, in fact, disgusting.
"You need to inhale to get the calming effect," my driving instructor advised me.
"What exactly does that mean?"
"It means you have to suck the smoke from the cigarette all the way into your lungs and keep it there for a moment."
"Okay!" I said and sucked in another big mouthful which immediately led to a coughing fit during which I exhaled a cloud of smoke with each new cough.
I dried the tears from my eyes as I had stopped coughing.
"I'm sorry. I don't think this has any calming effect on me. It just makes me cough. Can't I just put this out and pay for the lesson?"
"You don't have to pay. You've already earned your free driving lesson. But just give it another chance. Don't take in all the smoke at once. Try with less smoke. Keep it in your mouth for a second before you take it into the lungs."
I smiled at him:
"You sound like an expert. How do you know all that? You don't smoke yourself."
"I've been watching a lot of smokers. Now try it, please!"
I did, as told. There was this burning pain in my lungs that almost made me forget the sickening taste that had taken possession of my mouth and the bad smell in my nose. I blew out the smoke in a couple of small coughs.
"I'm sorry. I really don't think smoking is for me. And... I think I'm going to throw up. I'm sorry!" I said, dropped the cigarette and got up to take a few steps before vomiting in the grass.
Herr Schwarzbach had an unopened bottle of water ready for me when I sat down on the bench again.
"I'm sorry!"
"Don't be. It's all right. Drink this."
"Thanks! I don't think smoking has a calming effect on me."
"You don't? I think it will have, eventually."
"But I'm not going to try again."
"That's completely up to you of course."
We sat next to each other as I finished the water and started feeling normal again, although unable to get completely rid of the awful taste in my mouth.
"Okay. Are you up to it now?" Herr Schwarzbach asked.
"What do you mean?"
"The driving lesson?"
"Oh, yeah. I think so."
