Secret Moments

While in Rome, as the old adage goes, you do as the Romans do; while in Holland on the other hand, I discovered that doing as the Dutch do can lead to very funny miscommunications and awkward moments.

It's a bit of a sore point for me, (and maybe U.S. citizens in general?) that I don't speak any languages other than English and really weak French. But honestly, unless you have grandparents or parents who immigrated, there really is no opportunity to practice and perfect those skills and time and again I hear from people who did learn their other tongue elsewhere end up with archaic and passe vernacular. In other words, we're doomed to botch the language either way no matter what!

At any rate, I decided try and place an order at the take away facing my friend's apartment using the little Dutch that I had picked up in my three visits to the Netherlands. I approached the man behind the counter and said, "two koketten and two fries, thank you," realizing quickly that I didn't know how to say "one with mayonnaise and one without."

The man replied in Dutch and I had to explain that I had used the extent of my Dutch when I ordered. He laughed and asked what sauce I wanted to which I replied, "one with mayonnaise, and one with vinegar if you have it?" He laughed at me and said no, as if I had asked something really silly but then said, "but perhaps you would like curry sauce or peanut butter on your fries" continuing to giggle as he lowered the fries into the fryer.

I couldn't tell if he was making fun of ordering vinegar (which is very common in England by the way and tastes way better on fries than mayonnaise or ketchup in my opinion) or if he was in fact trying to say something else but it came out peanut butter instead of Thai peanut sauce or something.  I stood there with the best smile I could muster and waited for my order.

The two men who were eating had obviously heard my exchange and one of them had taken interest in the American who couldn't order her meal with the proper dressing. But not in my recollection of any experiences, foreign or domestic can I remember a more bizarre opening line than "What... is... your... secret moment?"

Very confused and slightly unnerved, I turned around and said, "excuse me?"

The guy behind me smiled (with a bit of food stuck to his front teeth) and said, "it's written on your bag."

I looked down and sure enough in no larger than 12 point font scrawled between the handles of my canvas bag from Victoria's Secret, was the line "what is your secret moment?"

Rather than make that connection between myself and the famous undergarment store or it's catalogue (which I'm sure are recognizable internationally) I casually replied with, "Oh it is? Huh, I don't know I got the bag for free," glossing over the awkward question hoping he wouldn't notice.

He replied, "It's your bag and you never look at it?"
"Nope." I said as the man behind the counter handed over my purchase, and I briefly nodded at the inquisitive man on my way out of the shop and said "bye" hoping that he wouldn't follow, which thankfully he didn't.

Snappy

Out downtown with a girlfriend and a few of her friends, I noticed this man in a white button down shirt who seemed to have a rather odd way of dancing. His left hand gripping his beer, his head tilted slightly to the side, he would hold his right arm at about eye level and begin snapping his fingers above the heads of the other dancers on the floor.
When the girl next to him turned around, obviously unnerved by how close his snapping had gotten to her head, he retracted his arm as if it were the cord of one of those self-winding vacuum cleaners and then casually took a sip of his drink.
I made the mistake of watching him repeat the act two or three times which prompted him to come over to our table and literally inch his way closer and closer to the tiny corner I was in between the sound booth, the wall and our table. Thankfully, my girlfriend and the other girls maintained their buffer zone until one of them had to pee and in the middle of rocking out to some classic 80's tune a hand few by the left side of my face with a *snap *snap.
Unfortunately, I couldn't ignore the first one and just gave him a strange look and the subsequent two I decided that since the look didn't work, maybe ignoring him would. It didn't. When one of the girls returns from the bathroom, she pulls this gentleman aside and starts talking to him. At which point, my girlfriend says, "Oh, no here we go," apparently the conversation I thought they were having (i.e. how that is NOT a good approach to meet women) was not the conversation they were actually having.
In a matter of moments the two were headed to the bar and by the end of the song she came back with a smile and a beer in hand as he continued to tag along behind her. She sat down at her chair and giving him a few further nods as he tried in vain to keep her attention and then she just started very blatantly ignoring him.
Now it's not that I had sympathy for the guy per se, he had been very rude and frankly quite stupid in his approach to introduce himself to any of the women at the bar, however, now he had been invited to our group and our area and the cost of his admission was one lousy drink.
When she got up to dance his attention turned back on me again and he asked, "why won't your pretty friend dance with me?" Of all the many colorful things that raced through my mind I politely said, "I don't know," and left it at that.
Eventually he did move back to the dance floor and resumed his snappy dancing, but this time he added another hand motion and began feeling women's backsides. After one or two women turned in repulsion and a brief conversation ensued in which the woman would walk off the dance floor utterly disgusted, he had finally found someone who left the dance floor with him. Two minutes later, the woman returned. Two minutes after that, so did he.
At the end of the night, I had been separated from my friends, they went out the front door, I went out the back, and it was via cell phone conversation that I found out where "snappy" had gone next. While my girlfriend was talking to me about our going out opposite doors, her very inebriated friend whom she was driving home began talking to someone who was trying to escort her down the street. When my friend approached a conversation ensued that was even more horrifying than any of "snappy's" previous behavior.  Disoriented and wanting to drunk dial ex boyfriends and go to after parties,  Snappy apparently told her that each of those actions were not good for her and that she needed to trust him and he would take care of her.
In a very understated and matter of fact approach, my friend simply asked, "Do you want to go home with him?" and with a vigorous shaking of her head 'no,' her worse for wear friend left Snappy to wander down Broadway alone.