At the library, S is surprised to see me. Long time, she says. Yes, it’s been a few months. And the books are long overdue – time for the next installment of my library donation.
7 Euros 50 cents. Only, she says, with a mischievous smile. I smile back, in relief.
The Wednesday discussion group is in session; the American professor’s voice resonates, as always, above the rest. I pick up a few magazines and sit down to browse. The self-publishing phenomenon, the digital life, review of Beatrice & Virgil, another one on What Darwin Got Wrong, a few letters to the editor.
At Eight, before leaving, a short conversation with S. Languages in India, Population growth, English skills of Germans (good, according to her), living in Cities, the HCB exhibition at the MOMA, Europe vs the US (Europe, of course).
Outside, a soft drizzle. Bismarkplatz seems full, but there isn’t much energy – tired people returning home. At the Asia Snack restaurant, as I wait for the girl behind the counter to finish talking to the cook, I photograph the cook. The girl sees this and is terribly amused. My order is mixed up, I get the wrong amount back. Still giggling, she corrects her mistake and returns more change.
- No. 38 – Fried Rice with Vegetables. Small. Euro 3.00
- No. 9 – Mini spring rolls. Euro 2.00
- Canned Mango juice. Euro 1.50
Only one other table is occupied. Two large men, talking softly in Russian. The cooks walk outside, to have a break, to smoke.
The square is almost vacant when I leave the restaurant. Empty buses and trams wait for passengers. The drizzle persists. The car park exit is flooded with water; a man patiently tries to flush it out using an odd-looking vehicle.
On the drive back, Don Giovanni is playing on the hr2 channel. Few things compare to Mozart in the rain.
Another typical Wednesday. But no more of this starting next week. The Wife is here.