Alone together

*♫♪♫♪♫♪ ringtone ♫♪♫♪♫♪*

Me: Allô... oui Anna, tu es où?

Anna: Ze soui devan lotel devil, è toua?

Me: Ah bon, ben moi aussi, mais je ne te vois pas...

Anna: Tou è deza ala grran plas?

Me: Mais oui, je suis devant l'hôtel de ville, comme convenu.

Anna: Moua ossi.

Me: *scrutinising the surroundings from East to West* Il n'y a pas deux hôtels de ville quand même. C'est pas possible, tu dois être en face, de l'autre côté.

Anna: Ze soui devan lotel devil.

Me: *taking a 180° south turn, finally facing Anna who is sitting on the cobblestones, looking everywhere but in front of her * Anna, regarde en face de toi!

Anna: Aaaah, tou è la, ha ha ha...

Then we hung off. Very funny indeed. Well, it would have been if it wasn't the upteenth time you read about two people calling each other while they are merely a couple of feet away.

I'm sure you must have noticed that days are getting shorter and that it's dark already after 8 o'clock. We are therefore excused, I didn't see her coming behind me and she failed to see me as I was dressed in black.

Anna: Zai pa ou le tam de emprrime le plann. Alorr ze ne se pa parr ou onn doua allè mai onn va demanndè.

Great, we had found each other but we still had to find the way to the place we were going to. Neither Anna nor I had taken the time to have a look at a map, we both had such a busy day.

Me: Tu te rappelles du nom de la rue au moins?

Yes, Anna did remember the name of the street and a policeman told us it was the first on the right, so we arrived at the Music Village and sat at our reserved table for two, just in front of the podium.

As you may have guessed by the transcription of her slavic accent, Anna is a foreigner and I take great pleasure in making my colleague practice French for over a year now. Last night, our conversation was jazzed up by the C. Loos / S. Mercier quartet. Oh, and Belgian beer too, of course, which made us switch to English after Anna's third one, that is when her French became utterly unintelligible.

Although I've always liked jazz, I think this was my first live experience, unless there was one before the age of twenty that I can't possibly remember. Nor can I recall being so close to gay bars... there were at least two across the street. I kept looking at those guys in between the sets, while having a smoke outside -I hasten to add that smoking is allowed in that lovely place, it's just that our table was in the "wrong" area. I must say I like gays, they are usually very friendly to women, who sometimes bemoan the fact that attractive men can be gay.

Back to the Music Village, where the quartet was really smoking in the second set and whoever talked loudly was being shushed. Those who stayed until the end of the third one were rewarded with a long improvisation, closing a fine musical evening.

I particularly liked the Unknown mallow and a tune called Alone together, referring to a relationship wherein one feels alone, despite having a companion, as explained by the composer.

That's not my case anymore but I reckon it must also apply to people in general. Aren't we sometimes alone together out there?