well...here we are in berlin. we got here after quite the train experience, which i wont bore you with, and got spit out into an area completely away from our hostel...somewhere in the ghetto area of east berlin. So, thanks to hannah and her mad city metro skills, we get to the right area of town finally. The only issue at this point is that we cannot find our hostel anywhere, and the only thing wed eaten was a nutella sandwhich. So, we decided to sit at the first italian cafe we saw and find the hostel later. We ordered coffee, antipasta, pasta, and something else i cant remember. We thought wed really live it up since we hadnt spent an y money in like 4 days and we had a long day.
This was just fine until the bill came, hannah slipped in her mastercard, and sven, our tall lanky german waiter says:
"im sorry, we do not take the plastic."
well crap...you do not take "the plastic" and we do not have "the cash" (whoever says that you dont need cash over here is crazy...weve had numerous occasions where the lack of cash has been a problem. i think we learned our lesson this time.)
so we ask sven where the nearest bank is and hannah sets off for what should be a 2 min. walk to the ATM.
15 minutes rools by.
sven is staring at me.
i am avoiding eye contact.
30 minutes rolls by, sven is looking at me, ( i am still avoiding eye contact) and also speaking with the italian owner and father of an endless amount of sons all working the place. they are gesturng towards me and muttering under their breath. i am avoiding eye contact.
40 minuted rolls by...i am convinced that one of two things has happened:
1. hannah got jumped and is on her way to thailand to be forced into prostitution...
2. she got lost, and this was the final straw...she had a meltdown and is crying on a street corner in east berllin.
either way...im a tad concerned. i think that sven and the army of italians can read the concern on my face...they are all staring at me (all 8 of them) and discussing the situation among themsleves.
50 minutes rolls by...sven marches up to the table removes his apron, and tells me that he is setting out to find her. the family of italian brother look on as sven marches purposefully down the street to find my dear lost hannah.
she rounds the corner just as he is turning it. GLORY BE!! (she ended up walking to an entirely different bank due to some faulty directions given by a couple of italians) (why so many italians??)
sven clarifies that everything is ok...and delivers her safely back to the table.
and it turns out that our freakin hostel was a block away.
i think that story is the most random and funny that we will get in a cafe. i hope. lol.
and what are the odds of getting a waiter with the same name as my pack?? haha.
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2 comments:
How awkward! haha, how come hannah got to be the one to go find the atm? I would have rather done that then be forced to sit there, avoiding eye contact with everyone and no doubt listening to them jabber about you in a foreign tongue...
i'll be honest though, i did expect this to end with you guys having to do the dishes to earn your meal!!
oh becky, the things that happen to you guys! and a waiter named sven! what are the chances.. too had that your grecian friend wasn't there to pick up your tab. ha!
:) haha i agree with marianne about your grecian man. He really should have come through for you this time, but where was he? no where to be found, no doubt in another country. haha Well this story served for some nice after dinner entertainment. I hope you don't have too many more of these excruciating experience but I don't think you'll be able to avoid the leering Italian men, you haven't even made it to italy!! haha yes, i'm excited to hear those stories. And i'm also holding out hope for your grecian man, you still have Greece to find him.
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