Chess anyone? A park in the middle of Geneva.
Last week Doreen puts me on a bus to spend the day in Geneva while she works. All I have to remember is the number 20, buy a ticket at the machine before boarding the bus, and get off at Bel Aire. I feel like a child going to school for the first time. The bus arrives just as we reach the stop. No time to think. Every swiss franc coin that I drop into the machine falls through. It's rush hour. The bus driver is scowling. Doreen tells me to get on the bus and buy the ticket at the next stop. How will I explain to the bus driver what I'm doing? Will I end up riding the #20 in circles all day? I gesture a lot with a dopey face, successfully buy the ticket at the next stop and settle in to diligently listen for Bel Aire which sounds nothing like Bel Aire when announced in French. I debus into a crush of workforce. No time to gawk and get my bearings. Just go with the flow, find a cafe and regroup.
Cross over the river that flows into Lake Geneva to the newer section
Chat for about an hour at an outdoor cafe with Lazarevic Ljubomir. He asks me to marry-ed him. Instead I agree to meet him at the same location in 2020. Do you think he asks all the women he meets to marry-ed him?
Manage to find my way back to the P&G office by 5pm and happily return home with Doreen to Neydens, France.
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