Went up to Florian ter to meet my landlady, pay my rent on the windswept monster of a square, with its near-full circle of uniform concrete towerblocks around. Sat down under a tree, exchanged the money as well as stories about past misdemeanours. Cycling back home, back downtown, I passed a flower stall and remembered that the other night, Id seen a lovely little bunch of flowers in one of the flower stalls thats open in the evening, but hadnt had any money in pocket. So I stopped this time instead.
Found a lovely bunch of small blue and purple flowers, almost more like blossom, tiny delicate and cheerful petals. For just two-three bucks. The young guy working there picked up on my awkward mishandling of the Hungarian sentence or two I tried to say, asked "where you from? Ah Holland, then you know all about flowers" - and we joked and chatted a little.
He was so cheerful, and he and the woman couldnt get over how I was Dutch too, just like their regular customer Martin, who also always came by bike, and was dressed in black. Flowers - bicycle - dressed in black! You sure you dont know each other? When I left with friendly words, the guy said, wait, and pulled out one of their long roses, "mint ajandek" - as a present.
At the pub, "Susannah" was working. She liked the small bunch of flowers so much -- but didnt want to accept them, because I'd bought them for myself - so I unwrapped the bunch on a barstool and divided it into two small bunches. She was very happy with it
