Who are the Nighthawks in Edward Hopper's painting?I am the man. I have no name, nor do I have a face. I am just that man sitting in a diner in New York city. It is around midnight and the atmosphere is depressing and dark. Every person in this café is living in their own world; not a word is being said and no looks are being crossed. It is striking how the atmosphere contrasts with the beautiful Jazz playing in the background. I look into my empty glass as I hear the bartender asking me if I need another drink. I decide not to react; I am too intrigued by the couple sitting next to me. The man is wearing a white hat and a navy blue suit that is sitting just a little bit too tight. He is lost in thoughts and he has not talked to the lady next to him for about twenty minutes. I can see that the lady wants attention as one arm is pointing at the man while she is heavily sighing and looking at her nails to make it clear that she is bored. Once in a while she turns around and looks at the man but he does not flinch. I think they are on a date because they walked in this bar with a big smile on their faces - that smile faded away as the clock reached midnight.
A song breaks the tensed atmosphere, I recognize the melody but despite my love for Jazz, I cannot put my finger on it. The woman on the other hand smiles when she hears the first notes. "Ow listen to that song honey." The man escapes from his deep thoughts. I decide to use this moment to break the ice. "What is it called again?" "It is Duke Ellington's C Jam Blues, it is my husband's favorite song." The woman says. Her voice is soft. I have never met this woman but I immediately feel at ease when I listen to her. We start talking and during the conversation I start filling in the gaps in their identity. She is a law teacher at Columbia and the man is a banker at Morgan Stanley. He quit his job right after the firm joined the New York Stock Exchange last Tuesday. He will leave New York to fight in Europe tomorrow night. Now I realize that they were not bored, they were stressed. They have a healthy relationship but they are not in the moment because they are afraid that this just might be their last night together. The man goes to the bathroom and in the meantime it took the woman one second to realize what I was thinking.
I ignore her asking look because I suddenly realize why I felt so at ease when I heard her voice. This is the woman who taught me everything. I am now a successful partner at White & Case and she is partly responsible for my success in law school ten years ago. Who would have taught that I would reunite with my favorite law professor in a bar, ten years after my graduation? I am enthusiastically shocked, but I decide not to tell her who I am. In fact, it is time to go home. I say goodbye to the professor and her husband who is standing in the doorway, wiping his wet hands on his pants. I give the bartender a tip and leave.
On my way home I start thinking about my past. I moved from a small town in Belgium to Chicago to attend college, and the difference was excitingly overwhelming. I was the only student from my school who went to college in the U.S.; I just had that different kind of ambition. I would teach myself about law and economics while my friends were going downtown, I would read about art history while my friends were at the movies, and I would even go the open day of the Flemish Bar Association while my friends were playing soccer. Everybody knew that I love to learn but nobody expected me to make such a life-changing decision. They knew I was ambitious and driven by my goals but it seemed like taking risks to achieve them was somehow uncommon. I was a small-town kid trying to make it in life. Turning my life upside down was probably the best choice I ever made. Living here in New York and practicing law us something I will never give up. From the Saturday nights at the Jazz club in Harlem with the intense client meetings, they are all part of my life now and I love them.
My last two years in high school were intense, but I am here because I was passionate about what I was learning. I have a great job and a great family because I was willing to work hard and go that extra mile. But now I am standing in front of my door and I have to be silent because I do not want to wake the kids. I hope we can meet again so I can tell you more about myself.
I would like to know if this story somehow made you curious. How is the style and is it too much storytelling for the uncommon essay? 