A casually dressed man in his forties walks into the Kolding Caffe, sits at a table not far from mine, opens his shoulder bag, and pulls out a large leather notebook. The waiter comes to his tables, and he orders a cappuccino. And then he opens the bag again and looks for something. Then he taps his pockets. This done, he looks under the table. Returning to his bag, he goes through all its compartments and pockets with utmost care. He digs into all his pockets most thoroughly. And then he gets up to look under the table with proper care. He is looking for his pen, of course. Judging by the notebook, it must be quite a special pen, as well. Which is why he repeats the three stages of his search for the third time. He is even more thorough this time around. And then a woman of roughly the same age walks into the café and heads for his table. Saved. Both of us.