Not long afterwards Hugo and I happened to be in Munich together. We decided to have a drink at a very elegant old bar in the downtown area.

There were only two other people in the bar—two very well dressed German girls, sitting very close to our table. It turned out all four of us had been to the Munich Opera the night before. We merged tables and continued discussing cultural matters. The girls spoke perfect English; they were up to date on the New York art galleries, the Paris musical events—in short, they were a find of a lifetime. Hugo confided to me that his girl (we had already paired up) was just what he had been looking for and he was ready to leave home for her.

The girls got up to go to the powder room, but shortly after, Hugo saw them leave the bar through a back door. He was galvanized into action. He wasn’t going to lose out just as he had found the perfect mate. He went chasing out the door and spent the next hour searching all over downtown Munich. I picked up our check, which was a little padded, but why would such talented females settle for a few dollars bar tip?

Home | Grandfather | Father | Myself | Main Index