You have buffalo in Europe!

So I had a Jackie moment I forgot to tell you about. The Italian restaurant I was at with Jaap on Friday did not have an English language menu. So Jaap had to read the menu to me. While he is reading I’m scanning along with him and I see the long German word that says buffalo something. I ask, does that say buffalo? He says “Yes, buffalo mozzarella, it’s more tender and delicate.” At which point, I declare “You have buffalo in Europe!” He looks at me calmly and says, “Yes.”

Who knew! To my defense, the only thing I know about buffalo is that the settlers used to shoot them out of the train window and the poor Native Americans starved because of this sport. It never occurred to me that no where in my history books did it say the settlers were AFRAID of these huge creatures! So this also has me thinking… buffalo cheese? Who was that man who one day declared to his wife, “Honey, I think I’ll go out and milk a buffalo today? And when I get home, we’ll make tender and delicate CHEESE out of it!” He either gets the award for worst job in the world OR Darwinism simply doesn’t work…

I had another interesting adventure today to share while waiting for my train. I had the distinct privilege of catching the attention of an old drunk, Boone’s Farm drinking German. Crazy ol’ bastard decided of all the places to wait out the train, sitting right next to me was his best choice. Now, I have my laptop so sitting down was pretty important as that big bulky thing is heavy (never buy a 17-inch laptop!). As soon as he sat down, I nearly got drunk smelling the crazy Boones Farm drinking man (we’ll call him BF for short)! He immediately started speaking German gibberish and laughing every now and then, which made the fumes even worse and made me think he sounded exactly like Mr. Miyagi in the Karate Kid in that scene where he gets drunk on his wedding anniversary. Anyways, eventually I realized BF was trying to talk to me. I think I can easily make this come to a halt with the “I only speak English” line, but alas! The German education system is better than I anticipated. BF speaks some English, enough to continue asking me random questions. By the time I got up and moved, BF thought I was a 25 year old doctor visiting Berlin to be with my friend, another doctor who loves me (I was not going to correct him and have him think I’m available for dinner tonight!!!) and that I live in New York City, Alabama. Why correct him? He won’t remember it in the morning!