Oskar 'the Kellner' (waiter - in English)

It is a typical June day here in Germany (Kallmünz to be exact!!).  It has been raining on and off throughout the day, but now – in the early evening – the sun is shining. I leave my pension, walk across the small, one lane bridge to one of the only two restaurants in the village. It appears to be  occupied by locals, no tourists, or other visitors. It is small with perhaps 5 tables inside and an equal number on the terrace (which overlooks the small river  - which is just a bit bigger than a burbling brook). The terrace tables are almost full… with couples and small families. I take a table and soon the waiter comes to take my drink order. As he brings my wine, my mobile phone starts to ring. I answer it. It is a colleague whom I met with earlier in the day. I know that the conversation will be long-winded so I interrupt to give the kellner (waiter) my order. The conversation goes on and on – interminably. I say very little. I just listen. My responses are mono-syllabic.  I am thoroughly embarrassed, chagrinned that I am talking on my mobile in a restaurant. I sense, perhaps it is only  my imagination, that the other patrons are totally annoyed. (I, myself, have been known to rant about such behavior when other people do it!!) The food arrives so I politely end the conversation and hang up.

the restaurant ...the terrace is the pink area under the flag

After dinner, I order a second glass of wine and ask for my bill. The kellner brings it. He stands – quietly - at the side of the table holding in his hand his traditional dark brown, slightly bulging, leather kellner’s purse. It looks surprisingly similar to my wallet. I pay the bill, he gives me change, places the money in his purse and leaves. I place my wallet on the table directly under my Blackberry which is also in a dark case. I continue to sit for a while enjoying my glass of wine and my view of the river.

Soon a small tow-headed, blonde boy – perhaps 5 years of age – approaches my table. He stands directly behind the chair which is directly across from me. He looks at me and smiles a bit, but does not say a word. I smile back and try to engage him in ‘rudimentary’ conversation. (Rudimentary, because I have not a clue what one says to a 5 year old … in either German or English!!)  He moves from behind the chair to the side of the table and reaches for my Blackberry. I say, “No, no honey, you cannot have that, it is mine.” He looks at me quizzically… (or is it an expression of annoyance[??]), … still not saying a word. In my mind, I am convinced he has overheard his parents discussing the rude American who was talking on the phone. I am sure of it!! I am sure someone has said my mobile (as well as all others in restaurants!!) should be confiscated! Our little tug of war over that thing in the black case continues for a minutte or two  - wordlessly on his part, a bit vociferously on mine.

Finally a blonde woman approaches. She bends down and speaks to the boy. Then she turns to me, apologizes and explains that Oskar likes to pretend he is a kellner (waiter). I smile, had I known that I would have given him a tip as payment for his attentiveness AND cute smile!!´

                                                    The other restaurant in Kallmünz