Vignettes from Vienna
What it means to "enjoy" life and why some experiences simply can't be captured by photos or souvenirs
It was 7 p.m. on a Sunday evening. The sky was a calm indigo. I walked out of the Schottenstift monastery, wiping away a few tears that had oozed out during the organ concert. I was hungry so I strolled into a well-lit café across the street. Dua Lipa was playing on the speakers, a few patrons were sipping wine and chatting loudly, and the bartender had her neck crooked down, her hands flipping through a small bunch of cash, and her lips silently keeping count.
I sat myself at the bench, my back against a mirror and my view unobstructed — I like watching the bar while I eat. The café wasn’t busy, so a single waiter served the whole floor. The young man wore a black vest over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
He jotted down my order (truffle fries) and replied with a smile, “Anything to drink?” I smiled back, “Which one of the whites do you recommend?” He pointed at the list and said, “Der Grüner Veltliner is always gut.” I accepted his recommendation.
The patrons trickled out as the night got late, so he started spending more time by my table; we exchanged a few comments on where I’m from and what brought me to Vienna. When the bill came, he took the wine off my tab. I gave my thanks, he wished me a good night, and I walked home with a pep in my step.
One of the greatest joys of being a young woman is the spontaneous flirting and the little gifts strewn throughout the day. A croissant on the house. A complimentary drink. My life is usually fun, but lately, I’ve been feeling lost. It feels harder to laugh. When life teases me, I just find myself getting offended instead of teasing back. And so, I find relief in the Austrian quip, “the situation is hopeless but not serious” (which is meant to contrast against the German, “the situation is serious but not hopeless”). It’s jollier that way.
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