Bizarre

Warning: read this blip with cocktail in hand (and at least one consumed)!

Saturday morning I was feeling rather...um... ok, for lack of a better word...hungover (thank you, Claudia!) but I still had two more parties to attend and needed to bake brownies to take along. So (brutal confession coming) unshowered and completely discombobulated I ran to the local grocery to grab some butter and cocoa. I waited impatiently in line with my two measly items as the couple in front of me unloaded a month's worth of groceries at check out. Finally the gentleman noticed my anxiousness and offered kindly to let me ahead.

As I dropped my items on the conveyor, I heard the woman speaking English to her partner and I said "oh, you're American." She happily confirmed this observation and asked where I was from. A lightning quick exchange occurred during which I said "You don't live on Dimbeck, do you?" and the gentleman replied that they did... "You must live behind my house, I've often heard an American woman through the trees in my backyard"...

At this point, I'd paid for my things, needed to clear the way, was in a hurry, and really not feeling like I wanted to meet the neighbors feeling and looking like something the cat dragged in.... so I grabbed my stuff with a very hasty goodbye and ran out of the store as fast as I could. This entire transaction took about 2 minutes. As I was scooping up my things, the cashier said something about "that's not your receipt" (in German) but the woman behind me was still telling me how she was also from NY and I was desperately trying to make a dash and not really paying attention to anyone....

Arriving home I looked at the butter and cocoa and the slip of paper I'd pulled off the payment counter with them....only to discover that I had inadvertently taken the 3 Euro receipt the couple behind me had laid down for their bottle returns...essentially, I had run off with their Wertbon (money). I was mortified!!

Still running late, I scribbled a quick but profuse apology note, placed it with the Wertbon in an envelope, addressed it to The American (we didn't exchange names) and instructed my youngest to run around the block and slip it into the mailbox of the house behind us.

Still with me? Have another drink....

Tonight I heard the American voice out back again, and decided, now properly showered and sober (and fresh from the hair dresser), that I should go over and introduce myself properly and apologize in person. So I did...only when I peeked around the corner of the neighbor house where four people sat having dinner on the terrace, and said "Excuse the interruption, but I am looking for the American I met at the grocery..."

One woman replied "I'm American!" ....
but you're not the American I'm looking for... (How many live on my block?!)
"That's OK, come sit down anyway and have a glass of wine!"
(OK, but you're MY kind of American!)

A long an funny conversation ensued, where the woman who had received my bizarre note and receipt was very glad to meet the person who had anonymously dropped it in her mail box (she had photographed it and posted it on FB, completely confused as to where it came from or why!). Ironically, Katrin (the neighbor voice for whom I now have a face) had also been looking for an excuse to come over and meet the American voice she, too, had frequently heard in her backyard.

Sadly, neither of us knows where the mystery American lives, from whom I stole 3 Euro! I am so embarrassed....I still must find the couple from the grocery - might need to camp out in front of the vegetable aisle!

What a very small and strange world we live in... :)