Ein Flittertag
There was a "Hochzeit" in my hotel on Saturday night. A good honest German wedding with a German volk band (not really the "oompa loompa" style... this was in Nordrheinwestphalen, after all). But one of my favorite words in the German language, and a word my German teacher would tell me about with great zeal was the term "Flitterwoche". It means the honeymoon. Much like the English word, the literal translation is difficult to attach to the actual meaning of it. Why does "honey" and "moon" together have to do with a trip to Barbados?
Anyways, Flitterwoche. "Woche" means a week, and Flitter, as my German teacher explained to me, is something that isn't real, it's just kind of out there. I.e., your "Flitterwoche" is that period of time when you're still just kind of high from the wedding and it's all new and unreal and you're not really back to reality yet.
Well, I had what I called a "Flittertag". It's not a real German word, and yet when I explained what happened in correlation to the word, the Germans knew exactly what I was talking about.
No I didn't get married. What I did this weekend was completely unplanned and really a forced change of plans based on the way it started. I was going to Berlin for the street fair last weekend. I'm now on a train going across Germany at 300 km/h headed very fast to Munich for Oktoberfest. What happened in between was totally in the air.
So my plan was to have something of a "Flitterwochenende", a couple little flings with people I'd met on previous trips to Europe, nice guys that if the circumstances were different, we might have dated over something, but live a third of the circumference of the planet away, yada, yada, yada, "und so weiter" as the Germans say. But since they do, hey, I'm here, let's meet up, have some fun, and just enjoy our time. And then afterwards, it's back to reality. One of them was in Cologne, the other in Stuttgart (although he lives in Madrid, he was there for work).
Well, the Stuttgart guy got let go from job and had to go back to Madrid, and the Cologne guy's aunt died and he had to attend the funeral. Keine Flitterwochenende. Scheisse. The best laid plans of mice and men, as the English say.
So here I am in Cologne. I'm not alone. I have friends here, not quite on par with the others, but you know me, I'm a very resourceful person when I need to be.
And so I just had fun. I actually slept the first couple days, and once everything got settled, I could finally get a couple decent nights sleep. And then came the weekend, and out I went. And Friday night I did.
And there he was. He was the kind of guy you just look at and I was stunned. He had these beautiful eyes that pierced right through you and a smile that could melt butter. He tall (a few more centimeters than me), a beautiful body, a little muscular, and just exactly my type. I had one thought on my mind the first instant I laid hands on you, and it was, ich will seine Kleidung abreißen. (The translation is not for public consumption, but ask me next time you see me and I'll tell you.) I walked by him and he smiled that smile that would make a grown man cry. My next thought was, this guy cannot be looking at me. I walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. I walked back by him towards the front where the strangely warm Cologne night air was coming in the open doors, and I never made it there. He says to me the words I will never forget: "Wie geht's?" "Es geht mir ganz gut," I reply back.
Yes, it was going for me much better now.
And so we chatted for a bit. I found out he was not German. (I'll keep his nationality out of this blog to protect the innocent.) He learned English before he learned German (he had only lived in Germany a few years), and so we began to chat in English. I had grown very much more comfortable with my German, and some people I chatted with entire evenings auf Deutsch, but he learned English in school, and was very comfortable with it, and it was afterall meine Muttersprache. And so it went.
So we chatted for a bit. I was meeting some other Kölnische friends there, and then later they show up. The smoking hot guy was just stopping in for a beer. He said "Tchüss" and headed out. I then went out with my friends with a big huge smile on my face.
So the next evening, I run into him again, same Bat place, same Bat channel. We chat a bit again, and he says he's going to a museum in Dusseldorf and wanted to know if I'd like to join him. Good lord, I would drink this man's bathwater if he asked me to. Of course I would go with him. I give him my phone number, and the next morning he calls me and picks me up.
And thus begun the Flittertag. He was a wonderful host, and we just spend the day going to the museum, chatting in a cafe, walking along the Rhein. We chilled out a bit at his place, went and dinner, and then saw me to the S-Bahn Haltestelle and I headed back alone to hotel. Again, he lives a third of the circumference around the world and wasn't looking to date at the moment. To which I said, well, I have a nonrefundable one way ticket to Munich leaving the following morning, so I'm about as safe and he could get. :-)
And that was that. And everything works out in the end. So maybe I didn't get my Flitterwochenende. Just a Flittertag. I still have a huge grin on my face just thinking about it. :-)
Blogdatum: Montag, 11.09.2006
Anyways, Flitterwoche. "Woche" means a week, and Flitter, as my German teacher explained to me, is something that isn't real, it's just kind of out there. I.e., your "Flitterwoche" is that period of time when you're still just kind of high from the wedding and it's all new and unreal and you're not really back to reality yet.
Well, I had what I called a "Flittertag". It's not a real German word, and yet when I explained what happened in correlation to the word, the Germans knew exactly what I was talking about.
No I didn't get married. What I did this weekend was completely unplanned and really a forced change of plans based on the way it started. I was going to Berlin for the street fair last weekend. I'm now on a train going across Germany at 300 km/h headed very fast to Munich for Oktoberfest. What happened in between was totally in the air.
So my plan was to have something of a "Flitterwochenende", a couple little flings with people I'd met on previous trips to Europe, nice guys that if the circumstances were different, we might have dated over something, but live a third of the circumference of the planet away, yada, yada, yada, "und so weiter" as the Germans say. But since they do, hey, I'm here, let's meet up, have some fun, and just enjoy our time. And then afterwards, it's back to reality. One of them was in Cologne, the other in Stuttgart (although he lives in Madrid, he was there for work).
Well, the Stuttgart guy got let go from job and had to go back to Madrid, and the Cologne guy's aunt died and he had to attend the funeral. Keine Flitterwochenende. Scheisse. The best laid plans of mice and men, as the English say.
So here I am in Cologne. I'm not alone. I have friends here, not quite on par with the others, but you know me, I'm a very resourceful person when I need to be.
And so I just had fun. I actually slept the first couple days, and once everything got settled, I could finally get a couple decent nights sleep. And then came the weekend, and out I went. And Friday night I did.
And there he was. He was the kind of guy you just look at and I was stunned. He had these beautiful eyes that pierced right through you and a smile that could melt butter. He tall (a few more centimeters than me), a beautiful body, a little muscular, and just exactly my type. I had one thought on my mind the first instant I laid hands on you, and it was, ich will seine Kleidung abreißen. (The translation is not for public consumption, but ask me next time you see me and I'll tell you.) I walked by him and he smiled that smile that would make a grown man cry. My next thought was, this guy cannot be looking at me. I walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. I walked back by him towards the front where the strangely warm Cologne night air was coming in the open doors, and I never made it there. He says to me the words I will never forget: "Wie geht's?" "Es geht mir ganz gut," I reply back.
Yes, it was going for me much better now.
And so we chatted for a bit. I found out he was not German. (I'll keep his nationality out of this blog to protect the innocent.) He learned English before he learned German (he had only lived in Germany a few years), and so we began to chat in English. I had grown very much more comfortable with my German, and some people I chatted with entire evenings auf Deutsch, but he learned English in school, and was very comfortable with it, and it was afterall meine Muttersprache. And so it went.
So we chatted for a bit. I was meeting some other Kölnische friends there, and then later they show up. The smoking hot guy was just stopping in for a beer. He said "Tchüss" and headed out. I then went out with my friends with a big huge smile on my face.
So the next evening, I run into him again, same Bat place, same Bat channel. We chat a bit again, and he says he's going to a museum in Dusseldorf and wanted to know if I'd like to join him. Good lord, I would drink this man's bathwater if he asked me to. Of course I would go with him. I give him my phone number, and the next morning he calls me and picks me up.
And thus begun the Flittertag. He was a wonderful host, and we just spend the day going to the museum, chatting in a cafe, walking along the Rhein. We chilled out a bit at his place, went and dinner, and then saw me to the S-Bahn Haltestelle and I headed back alone to hotel. Again, he lives a third of the circumference around the world and wasn't looking to date at the moment. To which I said, well, I have a nonrefundable one way ticket to Munich leaving the following morning, so I'm about as safe and he could get. :-)
And that was that. And everything works out in the end. So maybe I didn't get my Flitterwochenende. Just a Flittertag. I still have a huge grin on my face just thinking about it. :-)
Blogdatum: Montag, 11.09.2006
posted by Joe Carlin at 3:51 PM
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