I
left last Thursday, arrived on Friday and came back on
Monday. While that may seem like a short trip, trust me this
is about all I can take at my age. In three days, I have had
enough beer and sausage to last me for another year or so. I
hope my friend only does this kind of stuff when I come to
town, otherwise his liver should give out in another year or
so.
This trip was a little different, my
friend of many years is having women troubles and wanted to
talk, so we spent a lot of time discussing the differences
between men and women without coming to any new conclusions.
The phrase we know as "You can't live with them and you
can't live without them" is well known over there as well as
it is in this country.
My friend needed some serious advice
on what to do about his current girl friend and of course
that requires considerable amounts of German beer. If he
decides to break up with her I may have to join some
twelve-step program. Just kidding, not that bad.
I thought we had made some progress
until Sunday night when we arrived on a flight from Salzburg
that had been delayed for about an hour due to the weather.
His significant other was mad as hops over having to circle
the airport while trying to pick us up. I can't understand
German, but I do know about tone inflections and body
language and this was not a pleasant ride over to the place
we were having dinner. When we pulled up into the parking
lot, I jumped out of the car since the space was so narrow.
My friend made some comment to the girl friend about parking
too close to other cars. I went on inside and sat down and
ordered myself a beer. About ten minutes later, he shows up
alone, and says she is looking for some place to park.
I said Sure, like back at her house.
He looked at me as if I had poured
gasoline on him and was about to set him on fire.
No way, she'll be here in a minute.
Time passes. We order another beer.
Time passes.
He looks at me and has to admit that I
am probably right since the car is not outside in the lot.
He wants to know how I knew that was going to happen when I
don't speak or understand German.
I told him I have been around women
all of my life and married for over half of my life and it
doesn't take PHD to ready the tell tale signs when a woman
is mad. Which she was.
Well, there we are trying to figure
out the meaning of life, when what happens next?
Here in the US of A, if you go into a
restaurant with two people and they seat you at a table for
four, the folks coming in waiting for a table wait until you
leave before taking over where you have been sitting. Not in
Europe. If there are two seats open at your table, they then
sit down and join you as if you are old life long friends.
Sometimes this is good, and you meet
new people and sometimes it isn't so good.
Tonight it was of those not so good
nights.
The fellow comes over and sits down in
one of our empty chairs, brings his wine, orders his meal
and proceeds to sit in on my marriage relationship seminar I
am holding with my friend. The poor guy says he was an
engineer and made the trip over every seven or ten weeks. It
was hard to tell how old he was, but he looked like he had
been rode hard and put up wet, if you know what I mean. This
guy was terrible looking.
Well, he moves in a little closer and
proceeds to start telling us his advice on his relationships
with women and his wives. Here we are in the middle of a
serious conversation, having our dinner, drinking some great
beer and this unknown person proceeds to elaborate on his
troubles over all of his seventy some odd years with women.
If there had been another empty table, we would have moved,
but there wasn't so, we were stuck. Most of the advice he
was giving to my friend was the exact opposite of what I had
been saying for the past couple of days, but try as I might
I could not get him to shut up. In addition to be an expert
on marriage, he also knew who killed Kennedy and was firmly
convinced we had never landed on the moon.
Both of us skipped dessert. The old
guy wrapped up his story with one significant statement.
When we asked if he was divorced, he told us, "I escaped."
Truth to tell, I'd bet his wife left
the gate unlocked.
