As expected, the twist occurs unexpectedly at the very end.
The most enjoyable part of traveling abroad is meeting diverse people and conversing about what they truly think and how they live. I had stopped by Poznań to meet a Polish friend I was close with during my studies abroad. While waiting for a dinner appointment at a traditional Polish restaurant after getting a menu recommendation, a conversation began with a middle-aged German man in his 50s at the next table.
He happened to be waiting for his friend as well, and the topic of our quiet conversation was “the kids these days.” As a former pilot from a country in Europe notorious for being boring, he could not hide his conservative nature throughout the conversation. He talked about things like a junior colleague’s work attitude at the office or a story about his younger sister getting hit by their mother for wearing hot shorts when they were children. Given my own stubborn nature, tamed through an all-boys high school, engineering college, and military service, the conversation wasn’t bad. His friend arrived, and as we wrapped up the conversation, we exchanged Facebook IDs, with him telling me to contact him if I ever came to Germany.
Then, as we said goodbye, he kissed me on the neck. His friend looked at me with a look that seemed to say, “I knew it.”
The twist appears without giving any hint whatsoever. Indeed, would there only be scary twists? During my trip to Fukuoka, there were only three people in the audience—including myself—for a Sunday evening performance by a flute and guitar duo. Just as I thought the flute and guitar might be a bit weak towards the end of the show, the bartender picked up the drumsticks and displayed fantastic harmony. Could a flute really produce such a sound? My memory is hazy, but I am certain that the three of them jammed simultaneously, and it was as if the sound were dancing.