I took the kids to the Mensa for lunch. I get student rates this month since my Deutsch class is 20+ hours a week. They were served Cordon Bleu with fries.
After we finished eating, the kids went to play (tackle each other) in the nearby grass. A man approached me and asked me something in German. All I caught was “pommes.”
“Sorry, my German isn’t very good.”
“ I am asking if we could have the pommes you did not eat.”
“Of course,” I say and hand him my plate.
He took the fries, thanked me, and walked back to his friends.
I like that people are comfortable around me and feel free to be themselves, but I can’t help but sense a line was crossed today.
Sharing plates seems like something reserved for those in close relationships.
Just last week, I saw a couple trade plates with one another. I gave my friend across the table a look: “Did you see that sweet intimacy?” (he did).
I’m nobody’s baby. I’m everybody’s girl.
I had the First Aid Kit song in my head the rest of the afternoon.