I sat at a sidewalk cafe. When I walked up a woman was sitting at a table, staring at her iPhone and crying. She wore a black dress and black leather boots that came just below the knee. (Not that this held an significance to what came next).
I sat at a table next to her but on the other side of the doorway. I ordered a large Leffe Blonde. My favorite beer. (Not that this has any significance either).
I kept peeking at her out of the corner of my eye and pretended to be looking at something at my phone, even though I didn’t get any wifi.
After I had drunk half my beer, the teary woman, abruptly and loudly, called to the waitress standing inside the bar, “Excuse Me!”
It sounded urgent.
The waitress came. The teary woman asked her for a place to buy clothes that were “for a woman”. The waitress told her where to go. The teary woman said that she was a tourist. That she liked the cafe, and was just in Brussels for one day before she would return to Moscow. She said that she was very upset because her boyfriend had just broken up with her. That although she had her dignity and a little bit of money there would be no one else like him in the world.
The waitress said not to think like that. That it would only cause anger.
The waitress said the only thing that will help is time. Time and somebody else.