And we're off
May. 25th, 2004 09:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wojelahAh, the mind-numbing terror of the first day of work. I am now very well trained, which means only that I get less time before I start to ask the –really– stupid questions. Everyone is very, very, very nice. And very, very, very patient with my lack of any useful language. Not knowing French (ok, or Dutch) is mildly alarming. The good news is that I understand a lot of what is said. The bad news? One, I understand it about three minutes later. Two, even if I understand, my attempts to –indicate– my understanding as three words of French, eight years of Spanish, four months of Danish, and a lifetime of English simultaneously war for control of brain and tongue. It’s a little confusing. Did I mention that everyone is very patient?
After a successful visit to H&M that did –not– yield shoes but DID yield a midweight jacket and that involved my first successful adventure on the metro, I came home and took a nap. Later that night, Marla and I wandered over to one of two of the neighborhood’s authentic Irish pubs, Kitty O’Shea’s, in search of a beer. This is Belgium, so beer was not difficult. (Leffe brun, is good beer. I understand enough of the conversation to know that if I can pronounce these two words correctly, I will end up with beer I like. Critical, really.) Nor was Irish coffee hard. In the process of finding Irish coffee, I also found an actual Irishman named Colin. Colin is a mechanical engineer his 50s, had worked in Taiwan on power generation for years, has a 21 year old son at university in Shanghai, is living temporarily in Bonn and commuting to Brussels three days a week while his wife, daughter (who as a young child at the American preschool in Taiwan formed a gang to scare the hell out of a kid that -till then- had been trying to pull her underpants down every day – they stripped him and threw the clothes over the wall), and two more sons live in Dublin. I met him at the bar, when I was ordering Irish coffee, of all things, where we fell to talking. Upon being told that I was charming, I thanked him kindly and wound my way back to Marla. Colin came for a visit, sat and chatted a bit, gave us a squidge, told us we were lovely young women and he was NOT a dirty old man, but just a bit lonesome for pleasant company, kissed my hand, sang a few lines from a handful of songs, (not all of this at once - over the course of an hour and a half or so).
I liked Colin a lot. I hope he gets to stop travelling soon.
After a successful visit to H&M that did –not– yield shoes but DID yield a midweight jacket and that involved my first successful adventure on the metro, I came home and took a nap. Later that night, Marla and I wandered over to one of two of the neighborhood’s authentic Irish pubs, Kitty O’Shea’s, in search of a beer. This is Belgium, so beer was not difficult. (Leffe brun, is good beer. I understand enough of the conversation to know that if I can pronounce these two words correctly, I will end up with beer I like. Critical, really.) Nor was Irish coffee hard. In the process of finding Irish coffee, I also found an actual Irishman named Colin. Colin is a mechanical engineer his 50s, had worked in Taiwan on power generation for years, has a 21 year old son at university in Shanghai, is living temporarily in Bonn and commuting to Brussels three days a week while his wife, daughter (who as a young child at the American preschool in Taiwan formed a gang to scare the hell out of a kid that -till then- had been trying to pull her underpants down every day – they stripped him and threw the clothes over the wall), and two more sons live in Dublin. I met him at the bar, when I was ordering Irish coffee, of all things, where we fell to talking. Upon being told that I was charming, I thanked him kindly and wound my way back to Marla. Colin came for a visit, sat and chatted a bit, gave us a squidge, told us we were lovely young women and he was NOT a dirty old man, but just a bit lonesome for pleasant company, kissed my hand, sang a few lines from a handful of songs, (not all of this at once - over the course of an hour and a half or so).
I liked Colin a lot. I hope he gets to stop travelling soon.
