Sou-nen

It was Adrie's turn to choose where we would spend the break. As always, most colleagues lingered in the canteen, where you could buy cheese and ham balls with a cup of watery soup. The cheese always reminded me of insoles and I always kept away from the ham, which many covered with a layer of mustard to give it some flavor.

Adrie and I were always happy to get away from the office with a musty smell everywhere. "The air of mature files" as we called it. Even in the canteen you could smell it, it seemed to hang in the clothes of the employees. Like my only friend in the company, I was also not keen to bring a packed lunch from home, which is why we were in our free time in cafes and the like, where we ordered an omelet or a Russian egg with a coffee or, if it was warm, a beer.

This time, he chose to go to a Chinese restaurant a few blocks from the office. On the way we met a street musician who mistreated "Mister Tambourine Man". "You should be ashamed of yourself," said Adrie, "you should pay us to hear this!" He pretended to dive into the cigar box containing a few coins. The song was interrupted with a curse and some kind of threat with the guitar. We walked on laughing as the musician handled another song.

The Chinese restaurant had a takeaway section, which we walked through to get to the tables. My friend walked through it as if he were a regular, who even had a favorite table. As we sat and went through the menu, I asked about it. I was right, he came here more often. I noticed that he looked around restlessly. An elderly Chinese lady was standing behind the take-away counter, which also served as a bar. She called back something unintelligible and a moment later a young super slim Chinese girl appeared at our table.

Suddenly Adrie had a bright red blush on the cheeks. I took a good look: the Chinese was or seemed quite young and had a lovely face. "Can I already take the order or would you first like to look further in the menu?" she asked in almost flawless Dutch. We both ordered a spring roll special and a beer. As she walked away I couldn't resist saying something, "Now I understand why we went here! Be careful not to drool." Adrie got redder in his face and I decided not to make it harder for him.

He was struggling enough: every time she came to our table (with the spring rolls, the beer and the bill) he struggled to get his words out. When she walked away he watched her with a sigh.

On the way back to the office, he confessed that he thought he was in love. He only gave himself little chance with such a nice girl with his thin, receding hair and floppy ears. I tried to give him some courage; "You can always try. Just ask her out." He sighed gloomily.

The following breaks went to the Chinese restaurant again and again. Adrie sometimes ordered a tomato soup in addition to the now traditional spring roll, where he stirred large amounts of sambal. After a week I caught the name of the girl, who apparently worked every day. Sou Nen was called by her mother, or grandmother, or aunt, when we came in again. From now on I had to hear her name every now and then. My friend said it as if he tasted something very tasty.

After a few weeks it sounded next to me on the way to the office: "I'm going to ask Friday. I'm going to do it." I just nodded; I wondered if he could find the courage.

That Friday he was very quiet on his way to restaurant "De Lange Muur", the sweat was on his forehead and he looked straight ahead. Even the pitiful street musician was safe this time.

We sat down at our usual table again, while Adrie seemed white this time. He sighed and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the napkin. The older lady, as always, called back. When I looked that way, I saw an elderly Chinese shuffle our way. She looked exactly like the lady behind the take-away counter. Maybe her sister? Adrie saw it now and murmured something under his breath. As always, the spring roll was ordered again, with a beer. The tip that my friend usually gave was almost omitted this time.

The Chinese restaurant was visited a few more times, until Adrie suggested playing billiards for an hour instead of eating that eternal spring roll. We never saw Sou Nen again.

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