I remembered the first weeks back in Germany after a year abroad, after a year of high school in Montana. O yeah, rifles and fishing and hunting and skinning antelope – I’ve been there, I’ve done that. After that year, I had an American accent, even when speaking German – an accent when speaking in my mother tongue! I couldn’t even say ‘Deutschland’ correctly. The word that passed my lips sounded something like ‘Doitshland.’

And now, years later, after having said, ‘Oh, I think it’s gorgeous!’, I was asked where I was from. Sure, he was right to ask – especially after my ‘It’s only me’ opening. While being busy with pitying myself, it did not even occur to me that he was just polite and might have asked anybody where they were from; Alaska maybe, New Jersey, Brooklyn, or Toronto could have been reasonable replies, too; mine was Germany.

“So, you just happened to walk by and decide to have lunch here?” he continued. There was a dash more of a smile on his face, or maybe it was only a flicker in his eyes.

“Actually, a friend has recommended that I come here. She studies law, and one of her friend’s brothers is supposed to be involved with this restaurant. And she’d told me that it has just opened and that it’s supposed to be really good. So I thought I might just try it.” See, I might be a foreigner, but I sure was no stranger.

“For how long will you be in the city?” somehow, he looked a little uneasy.

“Till the end of the month. I just arrived last Sunday,” I replied. But with a different question, I might have just said, ‘I’d love to stay forever.’

“Have you been here before?”

“Oh yah, plenty of times. I have friends and family here and visit probably every other year.” I enjoyed our game of ping-pong, and I liked his attention. I felt flirtatious with him, and the more he spoke, the more I wanted to hear him speak.

“Oh... You should come here more often!” he said, and the whimsical trace of a smile now actually turned into one. This dazzling smile: Warm, graceful, open, and surprisingly shy.

“I should. I love it here.” And how much I loved it! Rain or shine, summer or winter. I loved every bit of it. Its diversity; its everything-can-be-attitude. The arts, the people, the fashion, museums, my family- and now I was starting to get to know new sides of the city: Restaurants, cocktails, and flirting. I had the feeling that also, with those sides, I couldn’t but just fall in love with.

“So, what are your plans?” his voice had become much more relaxed. Could it be that he might have been just as surprised to run into me as I had been by running into him?

“Nothing, really. Usually, I check out all the museums or go crazy with shopping, but this time, I’d rather want to eat and drink, have lunch, enjoy the sunshine, the city.” While speaking to him, I found that I adored the details about him: Nice posture, nice beard, lovely eyes, masterly hands, nice shirt. He even smelled good – wood… sea weed… apples… greens… leather… mmm.

“Like the New Yorkers do,” he said, and his smile turned into a big grin. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing at me or if he was just being sweet.