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everybody has moments in time they wish they could re-do. i’ve always felt guilty that i didn’t hug my grandpa the last time i saw him. in reality, i was five and scared shitless of the machines and tubes in the hospital, but as an adult, i think “man, why couldn’t i have just sucked it up and hugged him?” i really did love him. or the time i made fun of one my interns when i should have just helped him without comment. was it really necessary to act like a 15 year old myself?

enough of memory lane though. i am adding two more moments to the “re-do” pile. both from the same day.

moment one
place: train to amsterdam
time: around 1:00pm
setting: cafe car whilst getting a fork

british woman: “ein tee bitte” [a tea please]
german waiter: “was für tee?” [what sort of tea]british woman: blank look
german waiter: “was für tee?”
british woman: blank look
german waiter: “black tea, green tea, herbal tea?”
british woman: hitler salute. complete with two fingered mustache
me: look of horror
german waiter: blank face
british woman: “black tea then.”
german waiter: “okay, €2.”
me: stunned silence

moment one re-do in my imagination
place: train to amsterdam
time: around 1:00pm
setting: cafe car whilst getting a fork

british woman: “ein tee bitte” [a tea please]
german waiter: “was für tee?” [what sort of tea]british woman: blank look
german waiter: “was für tee?”
british woman: blank look
german waiter: “black tea, green tea, herbal tea?”
british woman: hitler salute. complete with two fingered mustache
me: “are you fucking kidding me? he didn’t invade poland. he asked you what sort of
tea you wanted”
german waiter: blank face
british woman: “black tea then.”
german waiter: “okay, €2.”
me: “you should be ashamed of yourself.”

seriously, since when do the british have a moral high ground on the senseless killing and invading of other lands?

moment two
place: house boat amsterdam
time: around 3:30pm
setting: boat owner going over the quirks of the boat hotel

dutch man: “the oven here is gas, so maybe tricky for you.”
me: “no problem, we have a gas stove.”
dutch man: “oh. in the states?”
eddie: “in berlin actually.”
dutch man: “really? that’s strange. most german kitchens don’t have gas ovens. the
germans have a bad history with gas.”
me & eddie: another stunned silence.

moment two re-do in my imagination
place: house boat amsterdam
time: around 3:30pm
setting: boat owner going over the quirks of the boat hotel

dutch man: “the oven here is gas, so maybe tricky for you.”
me: “no problem, we have a gas stove.”
dutch man: “oh. in the states?”
eddie: “in berlin actually.”
dutch man: “really? that’s strange. most german kitchens don’t have gas ovens. the
germans have a bad history with gas.”
me: “we have yet to gas any nazi resistors in our kitchen.”

the dutch? really? they’re not so cuddly themselves. well, the modern dutch kinda are, but historically, damn. they even have a street called “blood street.”

as my step-father said, “all of europe has a dark history.” so what’s with the assholes?

i have to admit though, i most ashamed of myself on this day. especially on the train. i should have said something. see something, say something. it’s not just for odd packages, it should have been my reminder to stand up for someone who might otherwise get fired for speaking up.

fertig.