T: You will kiss again. Soon. I know it. And get beard burn or whatever.
Me *with a Martullo-Blocher accent* “You dreamer du, du dreamst!” *laughing* So… no… if not ever!
T: “if not ever”: want to make bet? I take it.
Me: meh!
T: I feel rather confident about my odds. Ever might be too long like 10 years?
Me: Sorry. I mean ever… like never ever ever. I’ll take the bet. You’ll get a bottle of good whiskey if I lose. And I get… well … you annoying me for the rest of my life as I annoy you back.
T: Also. Tired plus distracted me apparently writes like a stereotypical Russian from a bad 60s US propaganda movie. Referring to *“if not ever”: want to make bet? I take it.*
T, replying to (Me: Sorry. (I won’t) ever… like never ever ever. I’ll take the bet): Yes! But I think we should cap it at 15 years. Otherwise you (or I) will technically ever win when you are dead. Which is unfortunate…
Me: 30. 30 years.
T: …and I will buy a good bottle of wine (or whatever you drink at that point) if you do hookup with anyone in the next 15 years.
Me: I am confident that I am done.
T: 30 years? Eh. Fair enough.
Me: Yes. *thumbs up emoji*
T: I am looking forward to receiving my bottle of nice whiskey. Which I will receive if you feel any romantic or sexual partner’s “burn” (or skin, if beardless) within the next 30 years.
Me: And for me that wine, or whatever it is I’m drinking then, as I am not interested in casual hookups (implying I’m too old for men my age to want a relationship with me).
T: OK
Me: Bet on.
HK: It’s not a bet if she doesn’t know what she’s getting into!!!!!!
T: Oh I have it in writing. She said it.
Me: Kissing. I said no kissing for 30 years.
——
Last night, in the train.
T: Why are you smiling at your phone? WHO are you writing to?
Me: Nothing. This guy I went out on two dates and he asked me for a 3rd one.
T: who’s the guy, show me photos.
Me: *Showing a photo, and explaining about him and the fact that he is also a child of a member of a student association… and it’s funny how his dad was very happy to see my Bierzipfel (1.) and Couleur (2.) when he sent his dad pictures of those belonging to me.*
T: You kissed? Where’s my bottle?
Me: We haven’t kissed. I am too shy. And he’s equally shy. So no kissing. I’m still winning the bet.
D-ro: A mans opinion. If you both are shy give it time and he will kiss.
Me: I’m not kissing. Not for next 30 years. I have to win the bet! There shall be no kissing.
D-ro: OK. One week of dating and not kissing is understandable but 30 years and not kissing will be weird!
T: I would love to see how you do that at the alter when the priest goes “now you may kiss the bride”! If you go “Ahem! Can you kiss my cheeks instead”… I’ll burst out laughing uncontrollably.
Me: Firstly you need a relationship to get that serious to finally reach the alter, and then about kissing – I’ll give him my hand to kiss the wedding-ring, just to be extra cautious that you don’t find a loophole about cheek being too close to lips!!!!!!!
[*Note: 1. The term Bierzipfel refers to a fabric pendant with the ends made of silver, in rare cases also in gold. It is exchanged during liaison hours as a sign of a friendly relationship and often includes a series of dedications, engravings or similar texts.
2. The Couleur is the combination of certain colors, which serves as a sign of a colour-bearing or colour-leading student or pupil association. In general, couleur is also understood to mean the character of a person with regard to their ideological attitude: someone is this or that couleur.]
ANTHROPOLOGY OF LOVE 