The hero of our story, Mr. X, a foreigner from a far away country, came for the first time to Enschede where he noticed many odd features. He is in fact a collection of personages; any connection with particular individuals is purely accidental.
Mr. X arrived here one rainy evening, and first thing he bought was an umbrella. He would learn later that he was lucky because it was Thursday, the only evening during the week when one could go shopping.
As Mr. X entered one big store, he saw nearby something that resembled a sinking ship in a sea of dust, sand and cement. The store was similar to many he he had seen in the capital of his country: am agglomeration of cosmetics, bookshop, electronics, household appliances, clothing, and food. As he exited, a machine started blipping so loudly that all eyes turned toward him. Immediately two store security men dressed in yellow came to see what had happened. It was just a false alarm, but Mr. X felt so embarrassed that he dared not enter another shop that evening.
Tired, Mr. X entered a cafeteria to sit down and enjoy a soda and a piece of chocolate cake. The cafeteria was full, but he found a seat near a window. After raising his hand to summon the waitress with no success, he decided to order directly. Surprisingly, he did not find any cake with chocolate, only six types of fruit tarts and ice cream. 'Ok,' he thought, 'Good enough,' and paid three times more money for a glass of soda and a slice of tart than he would pay in his home country.
Once outside, he encountered a crowded sidewalk. Slowly, he found his way among parents with crying babies in strollers and lots of noisy teenagers. The tower clock chimed 9 o'clock and, at that very minute, all the shops closed their doors and covered their windows.
Mr. X found himself in a square full of restaurants and pubs. He could easily hear and see lots of people inside seemingly having fun and relaxing. He entered one with a black cat on the door and inhaled cigar smoke. People were standing with glasses of beer in their hands, shouting to each other over the loud music. The place was so crowded that poor Mr. X squeezed himself between two giant natives and did not move for five minutes. He succeeded in reaching neither the bar nor the bartender, and he left with a crumpled jacket, minus two buttons but firmly gripping his umbrella.
The air was fresh and cold, smelling of manure. Mr. X took a narrow street to get out of the town center. In the dim light he saw two cars approaching short pillars that marked the pedestrian area and regulated the traffic in that zone. When the first car passed, the pillars disappeared into the pavement, but when the second one followed, the pillars went up suddenly and impaled the car.
Mr. X concluded his first day in Enschede in a rented house with a triangle-shaped roof and such a steep staircase that he was not ableto carry his luggage upstairs. 'What an unusual place is this city called Enschede,' he mused as he drifted off to sleep.
