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A Clever Girl Travels to Europe
The traffic was light for a Saturday night, I thought. My gaze drifted from the street back to the other person seated at my table. She sat directly across from me, looking me up and down before she spoke.
I was in Stockholm, and it was my first trip to Europe. I so wanted to make a good impression with this woman.
Karl, the man I had come to Europe to see, had introduced her to me an hour earlier as Margaret, his school mate from long ago. I smiled, making sure to not do it too broadly, but not to hold back either. The “just right” smile was on my lips as I waited for her to speak.
“Hmm.. Never been to Europe until now.” It was more of a judgmental statement than a question, as I had offered up this fact to the group just minutes earlier.
“No, I didn’t come because I wasn’t sure where to go or what to see. I wasn’t really a student of history when I was younger and I don’t — didn’t know anyone who lived here until several months ago.”
It was awkward and clumsy, but it was honest. I was in Europe now, and that seemed to be the most important part of what she was implying.
“What do you do in America? Have you a job?” Margaret wanted to figure me out, and I was anxious and willing to oblige.
