Should I say something or let her finish her meal in peace?
In my mind, I played out two scenarios. In the first, I was alone, wandering aimlessly around the city of Zürich until I finally retired to my hotel room. In the other scenario, I spent the rest of the night with her.
After a few minutes of internal debate, I worked up the courage and decided to bother her.
“So what do you think of raclette?” I said as I leaned toward her.
“It’s ok, the cheese is more salty than I expected it to be though,” she said with a smile.
I used this opportunity to ask her a few follow up questions: Are you visiting Zürich? What are you doing here? Where are you from? The usual.
As it turns out, she was originally from China but had moved to the Netherlands for university and then work.
“I am just here for the day. I’m leaving later tonight, unfortunately,” she explained. “I’m Li by the way,” she extended her hand towards me. “Great to meet you, I’m Matt,” I said as I shook her hand.
We were sitting at a community table, joined by a girl in the corner wearing headphones, not wanting to be bothered, and an Asian family sitting across from us.
Alone in a foreign city, we kept talking to one another for about 15 minutes as we finished our meals.
Finally, she said, “I’m actually going to a party later. If you’re not doing anything, you should come!”
I was skeptical at first, but she showed me the link for the Meetup event. It was an event for “like-minded young people” to meet and have a fun night out. I had not done anything like this since college, but I had nothing else to do. It surely beat sitting alone in a hotel room. I agreed to join her.
“Awesome, I’m so glad you’re coming, I was really dreading going alone,” she said with a laugh.
We paid our bill at the restaurant, walked out onto the streets of Old Town Zürich, and headed towards the pub where the event was being held.
When we arrived, we were greeted by an outgoing, cheery woman of about 30 years old. “Are you here for the Meetup event? I’m Sarah, the host of the event,” she said to us with a smile. We showed her our tickets, and she took us to the reserved section for the event, where a group of people sat huddled around a table (all of who were in their twenties and thirties).
Everyone said hello and smiled as Li and I walked in. I got a drink from the bar and sat down, ready to dive into conversation.
What transpired over the next two hours was, for me, an incredible experience. I talked with people from all over the world—Germany, Norway, France, Spain, South Africa, Dubai, UK, China, and of course, Switzerland. They asked me questions about the United States, and I asked them about their home countries. I asked a Parisian for restaurant recommendations for when I visit Paris in a month. Another Frenchman asked me about gun violence in America, said that he listened to Joe Rogan, and explained that he liked to keep up with U.S. politics because we “have a way of making everything entertaining.” Another guy tried to do his best to do the accent from the American south, which made us both laugh. I tried to speak Italian to two Italian guys; they were excited that I could speak their language, even if it was only a few words. Before I knew it, two hours had passed and the event was nearing its finish.
Even though the event at the pub was coming to an end, we were invited to go upstairs to the club afterwards. Our group (of about 20) grabbed a few tables in the corner to continue our conversation. As the night drew on, I ordered my fourth beer, scanning the room to see all the new friends I had just made. The club filled with loud dance music, fake smoke, flashing lights, and a growing number of people.
Li left around 22:30 because she had a train to catch. We took a selfie to commemorate the moment and parted ways. Shortly after she left, I decided to call it a night and head home too. I exchanged phone numbers and Instagram accounts with a few of the people from our group who still remained.
On my walk home, feeling buzzed from both beer and excitement, I returned to the first scenario I had constructed at the beginning of the night in which I was alone. While it wouldn’t have been terrible, it would not have been nearly as memorable as the way the night actually unfolded. In a weird sense, I felt like I had “rented” friends to spend the night with. I would likely never see or speak with most of these people ever again, not by choice but because of circumstance. They kept me company, they made me laugh, and they were—for one night only—my good friends.
Feeling grateful, I returned to my hotel room and reveled in amazement at the undeniable human need for connection. And it made me realize, once again, that we are never really as lonely as we might think. Even when alone in a foreign place, there are still people who will look out for you.
If you leave room for the serendipities of life and friendship, they will find you.
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Should I say something or let her finish her meal in peace?
In my mind, I played out two scenarios. In the first, I was alone, wandering aimlessly around the city of Zürich until I finally retired to my hotel room. In the other scenario, I spent the rest of the night with her.
After a few minutes of internal debate, I worked up the courage and decided to bother her.
“So what do you think of raclette?” I said as I leaned toward her.
“It’s ok, the cheese is more salty than I expected it to be though,” she said with a smile.
I used this opportunity to ask her a few follow up questions: Are you visiting Zürich? What are you doing here? Where are you from? The usual.
As it turns out, she was originally from China but had moved to the Netherlands for university and then work.
“I am just here for the day. I’m leaving later tonight, unfortunately,” she explained. “I’m Li by the way,” she extended her hand towards me. “Great to meet you, I’m Matt,” I said as I shook her hand.
We were sitting at a community table, joined by a girl in the corner wearing headphones, not wanting to be bothered, and an Asian family sitting across from us.
Alone in a foreign city, we kept talking to one another for about 15 minutes as we finished our meals.
Finally, she said, “I’m actually going to a party later. If you’re not doing anything, you should come!”
I was skeptical at first, but she showed me the link for the Meetup event. It was an event for “like-minded young people” to meet and have a fun night out. I had not done anything like this since college, but I had nothing else to do. It surely beat sitting alone in a hotel room. I agreed to join her.
“Awesome, I’m so glad you’re coming, I was really dreading going alone,” she said with a laugh.
We paid our bill at the restaurant, walked out onto the streets of Old Town Zürich, and headed towards the pub where the event was being held.
When we arrived, we were greeted by an outgoing, cheery woman of about 30 years old. “Are you here for the Meetup event? I’m Sarah, the host of the event,” she said to us with a smile. We showed her our tickets, and she took us to the reserved section for the event, where a group of people sat huddled around a table (all of who were in their twenties and thirties).
Everyone said hello and smiled as Li and I walked in. I got a drink from the bar and sat down, ready to dive into conversation.
What transpired over the next two hours was, for me, an incredible experience. I talked with people from all over the world—Germany, Norway, France, Spain, South Africa, Dubai, UK, China, and of course, Switzerland. They asked me questions about the United States, and I asked them about their home countries. I asked a Parisian for restaurant recommendations for when I visit Paris in a month. Another Frenchman asked me about gun violence in America, said that he listened to Joe Rogan, and explained that he liked to keep up with U.S. politics because we “have a way of making everything entertaining.” Another guy tried to do his best to do the accent from the American south, which made us both laugh. I tried to speak Italian to two Italian guys; they were excited that I could speak their language, even if it was only a few words. Before I knew it, two hours had passed and the event was nearing its finish.
Even though the event at the pub was coming to an end, we were invited to go upstairs to the club afterwards. Our group (of about 20) grabbed a few tables in the corner to continue our conversation. As the night drew on, I ordered my fourth beer, scanning the room to see all the new friends I had just made. The club filled with loud dance music, fake smoke, flashing lights, and a growing number of people.
Li left around 22:30 because she had a train to catch. We took a selfie to commemorate the moment and parted ways. Shortly after she left, I decided to call it a night and head home too. I exchanged phone numbers and Instagram accounts with a few of the people from our group who still remained.
On my walk home, feeling buzzed from both beer and excitement, I returned to the first scenario I had constructed at the beginning of the night in which I was alone. While it wouldn’t have been terrible, it would not have been nearly as memorable as the way the night actually unfolded. In a weird sense, I felt like I had “rented” friends to spend the night with. I would likely never see or speak with most of these people ever again, not by choice but because of circumstance. They kept me company, they made me laugh, and they were—for one night only—my good friends.
Feeling grateful, I returned to my hotel room and reveled in amazement at the undeniable human need for connection. And it made me realize, once again, that we are never really as lonely as we might think. Even when alone in a foreign place, there are still people who will look out for you.
If you leave room for the serendipities of life and friendship, they will find you.
