Frohes Weihnacht!

I guess it is safe to say that Christmas is, essentially, here.

There’s one last night in Weimar before I head off to the States for a short period of time when I will see my parental units, siblings, and nephews. I suspect that it will be just like previous years, for the most part.

As I announced yesterday, I am officially packed and ready to go. The flat is clean, clothes washed (save for what I am wearing), and the refrigerator empty of anything that might start growing unwanted tentacles if left unattended.

This is true, even after last night’s spectacular evening with homemade Curry, homemade brownies, and homemade chocolate chip cookies. Anki and Prashu both came over, and it was clear, right from the start that this was an ideal pairing—both are artists and they understood each other. We never made it out of the kitchen—and Prashu’s rice smelled absolutely fantastic—I wanted to crawl into the pot of rice, long before it was actually ready for consumption.

In one of those endlessly weird moments, Anki and I talked about somebody who I will call, for now, Herr Salmon. It’s a nickname that works. He’s a regular at the Weimar Office, and sometimes, when I am working there, he comes in and has a cup of coffee.

Naturally these intrusions into my Weimar Office aren’t really all that infrequent of an occurrence: It is a coffee shop.

I have come to recognize the regulars that I frequently see at the Weimar Office giving them nicknames like “incredibly hot DPD delivery person with a barcode tattoo on the back of his neck.” I usually don’t pay that much attention to them—they tend to become a part of the passing mosaic—they come in, order coffee, sit, talk to each other, pay and then leave. Depending upon how much I am absorbed in work, I might not even notice them come in, much less leave.

On the other hand, Herr Salmon is somebody I almost always notice—cute in that shy unassuming way, he comes in, orders coffee and drinks it while doing some reading. Honestly, he’s not usually in the coffee shop for more than 10 or 15 minutes at a time—yet when he’s here, he seems to stare at me—something I noticed and then once remarked upon to Anki. After I pointed this out, she concurred, as she confirmed my impression that he is gay and that he seems to stare at me.

In fact, the day after she and I discussed him, I came back to the Weimar Office while Anki was working behind the counter. She gave me the strangest look, which I immediately understood as meaning, “You’re 15 minutes too late, Herr Salmon is just out of sight and preparing to leave; in fact I am getting his change out of the cash drawer.”

C’est la vie.

A couple weeks later, I had logged onto Gay Romeo for one of my ten minute passes, when I suddenly realized that Herr Salmon had a profile on the site. I was amused—and in what is a vague violation of ephemeral trust, I showed his profile to Anki last night. I didn’t think much about it, but karma has a way of paying me back, perhaps doing so this morning.

I popped down to the Weimar Office for a cup of Weihnachtskaffee and as I started up the steps into the café, I was blocked by somebody coming out: Herr Salmon was walking out and, as always, he looked at me with that look to which I am so familiar.

I asked Anki to connect us sometime – I have no idea when, or if, that will ever happen. She’s busy with her art, not working too often at the Weimar Office, and my travel schedule sometimes keeps me away for weeks at a time—I’m leaving tomorrow!)

This isn’t the first time a guy has stared at me in a coffee shop.

Back at the Gay Diedrich in Denver, I was once working on a project, trying to concentrate on my work, yet every single time I looked up, there was this really cute guy staring at me, and I was staring at him. That lasted all of about half an hour until he vanished and I started looking around for him, presuming he had gone to the toilet. Once I saw him outside smoking a cigarette, I stopped staring and was able to continue working, uninterrupted by an intrinsic want to stare back.

I doubt that Herr Salmon’s staring at me is for the same reason as Mr. Cutie Who Unfortunately Smokes, but only time will tell.