Big (possibly gay) Al

In a dizzying contrast to Branco, Allan is a man of slight stature, reserved nature and a taste for the finer things in life. He is of an undeterminable age, German by birth but grew up in England and now works back in the fatherland. In his spare time he is a wine snob and this is how I met him. On the first night here in Strasbourg, Allan and I shared lodgings , and since I seemed to be his only company he decided to talk at me for a while until I was actually forced to engage. Now on this trip we have met a few odd balls, and Allan here was setting himself up to be a real doosey, but after a few false starts I managed to steer him in the direction of his purpose in the area. This is when I discovered he was a wine buff.

For those who don’t know me that well, I too dabble in the world of wine so this suddenly got my attention. He was telling me all about the soils in this particular area and how it differs greatly from the hill side vinyards and I had done my reading so I was able to hold my own in this conversation. All of a sudden I was invited for lunch with Allan to a winstub in town. Apparently one of the best in the region. On the end of my positive experience at the last local establishment I was keen for a second go and this time I would have a translator rather than my usual practice of likening French and German words to the closest sounding English then hoping for the best. After this Allan proclaimed that he had to “pretty” himself before bed. Maybe his grasp of English isn’t so comprehensive. Then the sound of “Dancing Queen” came softly from the shower. Maybe his tastes weren’t so impeccable.

The next day I was roused at 8 am by Allan and his immaculately trimmed goatee for breakfast. I begged off and he said he would come and get me for lunch around 12. I wandered around until I found coffee and cake, then went back and read, waiting for my guide. At 11:58 Allan minced into the room and told me he had made reservations. We hurried on down to the winstub and tucked into a 4 course meal, each with a wine picked out for me. This was all topped off with Allan insisting on getting the bill. I offered, my parents raised me well enough for that. I offered quiet firmly but in the end the impoverished traveller in me won out and I bowed to Allan’s will. Then Allan suggested we go to the library as he had heard that there was a hot air balloon exhibition on. Not really thinking that it was to my tastes I once again begged off but he insisted that we do dinner at another winstub. As we parted ways I reflected on how eager my guide seemed for my company. How well dressed and neat he was. How he held his hands. Wait, was he plucking his eyebrow last night?

Did I just go on a date?

I had forgotten, I couldn’t come to dinner Allan. I'm sick tonight.