Als jij leven een lied was, wat zou het zijn?

At least I didn’t try asking him that! One more glass of liquid courage and I bet I would have.

I’m thinking (still) about the poor unsuspecting man at the bar the other night. I wish I could find him on the street now and appologize for my outrageous behavior. I mean, I really do feel terrible about the whole thing. Here he was, just trying to order a drink and I come up out of nowhere and … AND … say hello, welcome him to Taalcafé, and ask what his name is. I mean, damn, that’s so rude. What would my Gram say if she knew that I had extended a hand of kindness out to someone standing alone in the midst of many having a lovely evening of chat.

He wasn’t there for Taalcafé, which he let me know in no uncertain terms. Something like “Do you mind if I order my beer, or what?” … I guess the fact that I didn’t catch on right away only fuelled his fire. Obviously he doesn’t understand how hard it is for people without strong language skills to reach out and meet people. Granted, I did organize the evening and I am well aware that, no matter how awkward socially I may be, that it needs to be done. Maybe he has turrets. Maybe he got fired. Maybe he just had a really shit day and didn’t need anyone being smiley with him. Whatever his reason, I only know that we were inside laughing and enjoying life while he sat alone on the terrace.

As we remember those who are kind, the nasty too find a place in the mental rolodex. I’ve got his face and I won’t be caught off guard the next time. We’re working our asses off to learn this language, to meet people, to make Kortrijk ours too – it’s hard enough without the “dikkeneks”, was it???

BTW: Als mijn leven een lied was, het zou misschien Good Ol’ Boys … “never meanin’ no harm”

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