I left something out at the end yesterday.
We went to eat at an oriental restaurant in Dresden. It was shortly before our gig, so we were in a bit of a hurry. A waitress took our order, but she was working alone, so it took quite some time. Then she came to tell us that she (or the chefs) had messed up the orders, and that we (or actually everyone except me) had to chose something different if we wanted the food reasonably quickly.
After a while (after a belly dance, actually), something happened. The waitress dropped an oil lamp on the carpet, and it took fire. She burned her hand trying to put it out. Nobody helped her and Oliver went to speak with her.
I suppose it was a clichéed rock moment. Oliver told her that she should quit her job an join us at the concert. Evidently, she looked like she really considered it. I would have forced her to go back, I think. We are not the guys and she should not be the girl, even in our fantasies.
But still, as always, I couldn't leave it as it was. Late at night, I knew what I would do. So the next day, before we left, I let everybody sign the record, on which I had of course already written “To the Dear Catastrophe Waitress”. I went back to the restaurant and found the some men drinking coffee, looking like they had something to do with the place. I asked for the girl who worked there yesterday. “Anne!”, one of them shouted and went to tell her. He came back to tell me that she will be with me in a few moments.
When I saw here coming, I explained that I wanted to give her a CD. “Are you in a hurry?”, she asked. I said that in fact we were, since we had to get to Leipzig. She asked how the concert went and I said it went really well. And then, we hugged and I left.
I felt smug.
Tomorrow, I must move on.
written by Mattias