Last night over a bottle of Prosecco (it’s my new thing) Adrian and I had a discussion about our favorite places we’ve traveled. In the past year we’ve been to Berlin, Cologne and Paris, and I went to Venice but he didn’t.
Naturally I said I really loved Germany, so this prompted another anti-Germany rant. He said he doesn’t understand why I like it so much because there’s graffiti everywhere and all the food tastes like vinegar.
Let’s get a better look at Adrian’s plate. I want to go back in time.
Among other things, I said I felt at home there and I liked that my family came from Germany only a few generations ago.
He thought that was stupid, so I said that’s like him tracing half of his heritage back to Africa.
He didn’t agree and he said he’s not African just like I’m not German. “You could trace my family back to the Garden of Eden. That doesn’t make me a f*&$ing Bible character.”