Right now I'm typing this blog from a small café close to S's tutoring job. It's called "Patel's Euro Central" (the café, not S's job). It's lovely here and I ordered a croissant and cappuccino while waiting for her.
This morning began with me 'out of sorts' which meant I was quiet. S seemed a little confused and I told her that I'm definitely not a morning person and often kept conversation and chatter to a minimum. I think she was relieved because it appeared to her that I would be annoyed/angry/mad about something. I couldn't even think on those lines. The trip had been so glorious, she and M such amazing people that there was no space for negativity. No indeed, I was just crabby because it was the AM.
After a quick shower and pulling on the only footwear that I could deal with any longer, long over the knee flat black boots, we are headed off to this area so I could wait for her. She mentioned that today we will do some shopping which I haven't really done any of yet other than purchasing some delicious chocolate from a beautiful shop new Wiesbaden a few days ago. Maybe it's age or something but the idea of shopping makes me slightly ill. Oh, I also bought a pair of flat knock-off Vanz (did I mention this before?) because of my ouch-y feet. S thought they were hideous while I explained that they were quiet the rage back home. I didn't think I would ever wear them again but funny enough since getting back, I've rocked them several times and nearly given my friends/acquaintances heart attacks. That's precisely how out-of-character they are for me to wear.
Okay, S is back and we're off to have some fun and QT alone.
More to come later.
Berger Street in Bornheim is where we ended up after finally taking the below ground metro. Oh it's lovely here. Imagine Georgetown but not nearly as douchy. We stopped to have yummolicious food at a busy but cute mostly vegan friendly place which allowed dogs. The tables were close together but one didn't mind that in the least. The food took forever to get to us but was nonetheless delicious and we had the best chat, not that we hadn't been doing this all along.
Did I mention that in Europe, or at least Germany, the first instinct isn't for servers to pour you a glass of water? I was confused by this the first time it happened, wondering where the aqua was but now, so many days into my trip I knew to just order some. It's funny how quickly one adapts if they really, truly want to.
So on my ongoing trials and tribulations which proves to me every single time that I should, in fact, not leave the USA because I'm the biggest ignoramus ever, here's a little antidote:
At the end of the meal, I went in search for the bathroom. It was, of course, downstairs (this also seems to be a thing here. Bathrooms are always located subterranean) and I walked into the posh stall, closed the door and heard the very loud and resounding click of the lock falling into place. Wistfully I thought to myself as I was doing my business, that it would be sort of inconvenient if I were to get locked in because no one would be able to hear me. That's how far into the cavers of the restaurant the facility was. Chuckling to myself at my fanciful thought, I go to unlock the door and...oh hell...
Yea, I had totally locked myself in. With rising panic I looked down and saw that the clearance between the floor and the bottom of the door was all of 6 inches (I am not small enough to slide through that) and above was the same. I was doomed. I imagined myself there, waiting...waiting...waiting...dying...not for one instant remembering that a.) I had a my phone with me (do they dial 911 there too?) and b.) S would eventually come looking for me to see if I had drowned myself or at least to shove more ibuprofen down my gullet. Either way I would have been okay but at that second I was left in a quandary.
It took some muscle to get that damn door unlocked and the sense of relief made me giggle with giddy relief. Have you ever done that? It's pretty satisfying and when I returned to the table, I told S what had happened. She pointed out to me that me and the bathrooms seem to have a grudge match going of sorts. I have to agree.
Which leads me to another story that I may (or may have not) shared earlier in regards to a similar incident in a different restaurant when we were wandering around Wiesbaden. It was my real first meal in Germany, the day after arriving and we had chosen this adorable spot where we sat outside in the partial sun (it was quite a cold day actually but we were forcing good weather). After finishing up the turkey schnitzel which was supper yum, and per usual I excused myself to use the facility. I confess I have no faith in my bladder at all. As I grow older and more decrepit, it becomes smaller and smaller to the point where it could be that during one hour at any place I may have to make a stop at least 3 times. It's a pain and I should see a doctor but a few friends told me it's because I constantly am drinking water. But that's neither here nor there...this particular spots facilities were located on the second floor (damn stairs) and once I was there, two doors stood in front of me. One said "H" and the other "D".
Again, I stood staring having no clue what D meant. I ran through the list of possibilities in my head and came up with nothing. My limited German helped not at all although some part of my cranium was shouting that "H" probably meant Heir. That made sense, right? But who the hell ever said I ever followed what 'sense' dictated? Not I.
And without thought I pushed into the door with the prominent "H". Yea, wrong choice. And thank God there were no one there because they would have gotten a bigggggggg surprise. I yelped, retreated and zipped into the one labeled "D". When I got back to S, I had to sigh in exasperation and tell her that I shouldn't be allowed to leave my country because I was a menace to society otherwise.
*SMH*
Leaving the restaurant the rest of the afternoon went by in a slow meander moving in and out of shops. I got something for P, and since from day 1 I had been determined to buy S flowers, I was able to snag some of those too. We stopped at an all vegan pastry shop, sit outside, sip coffee and partake in lovely delicacies. I didn't eat a lot of it simply because although I love absolutely anything chocolate-y my sweet tooth isn't as gigantic as my eyes.
We left out of there and headed for the local bus stop. The last of the various modes of transport to be crossed off my list. S had class so instead of going home with me, she gave me precise directions, and hopped off 4-5 stops before me. I managed to find my way back to her apartment without incident, texting her the whole way so she wasn't worried that I was lost somewhere in the city, was able to take a shower and change before M came home. We chatted easily for a bit and then we were off to pick S up.
M, the Sweetie Pie, dropped us off for our last night at Kakadu's where we spent most of the evening talking to an Aussie businessman who was a PM at some company where he didn't know how to deal with clients/colleagues and was taking advice from me. For some time he assumed it was because I was in a similar line that I was so knowledgeable but S was also fully contributing to the convo and she definitely is not in the same profession. I told this guy, whose name I can't remember to save my life, that most of what we were saying was nothing but common sense. How to treat others in business was how one would treat friends/family, not so intimately but at least with the same understanding and courtesy.
Why he was so blown-away by all that I told him is still confounding to me, since this guy was 52 and should have learned but hey, I don't judge, I just advise. By the time he left, we were his best friends and admittedly both S and I were a bit concerned as to how he would make it home because he was so not steady on his feet, if you know what I mean.
Here's where I insert another story and yes, it has to do with the bathroom again, so shut it:
I went to the bathroom and as I walked in there a young lady, Asian, was there too and she moved aside so I could slip into one of the stalls. As soon as my door was closed, I heard suspicious sniffling which then blew into big gusting sobs. My eyes went large and I, won't lie, rushed through peeing so I could give her some privacy. My bladder wasn't happy with me or may be it was. I came out of the stall and she moved into the second one, closing the door even while she continued to cry although softer. I washed my hands, about to leave when I paused.
I thought to myself, if I was in her shoes what would I have wanted?
Doing a mental "F-it" and with my heart hurting for her, I knocked gently on the door. She opened it a crack, looking at me with curiosity and red eyes. I motioned for her to come forward, she did so with a lot of hesitancy and I wrapped my arms around her. She was stiff at first, I believe shocked and then...she broke down, sobbing into my shoulders, clutching me close. I stood and stroked her hair, murmuring that things would be okay and simply waited. Eventually her friend came in, I transferred the sobbing woman in my arms to her and left.
Later, when I saw her again, she gave me a soft smile and left. I don't know if I did her any good, or whether her instinct was to call the police on me but at least I felt good about it.
Once again, this brought to mind precisely how similar "we" truly are and when I say "we" I mean humanity in general, the whole reasoning behind this blog when I first started to write out my thoughts: to highlight that I am not so different as yourself.
Have I seen that same scene before back home, the one of the girl weeping in the bathroom? God yes, and I can't even count on how many occasions. Had I ever been that girl sobbing heartbrokenly in the bathroom? Yup, sure have. Has a friend or a stranger comforted me? Absolutely.
Truth here is this, Folks: We are so much more alike than we are dissimilar. You can stare at someone's eye color, hair color, skin color, how someone speaks, walks, talks, and those things can all point to the differences but the similarities are found from deep within. Those are the instincts, the emotions, the reactions, the actions. Those are the things that actually tie us together. The needs, the wants, the loves, the hates, the disparity and joy...these are innate and within every molecule of our being. The fact that anywhere in the world, the sight of an old couple walking down the street hand-in-hand will most certainly bring a smile to a persons face or a child's giggle makes others giggle. The tears of someone will bring concern or the death can bring a moment of silence.
Cancer is horrible wherever you are, a birth possibly a joy, depending on ones life circumstances. Purchasing a new home, probably high on the list of positives, losing a beloved something, low. The first lick of an ice cream on a summers day or the feeling that's invoked when you pull on a pair of fuzzy socks on a cold winter night. Listening to rain on the roof, watching a sunset, diving into a pool, leaving work after a long, long day.
You see what I'm trying to say?
Deny it all you want. Go on think that you're different, but the truth is...you're not. Neither am I. We are all special 'snowflakes' to the extent of our DNA but after that...it's a wrap folks. We're all the bloody same and you know what I say to that? YAY!
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