Dinner with Lothar Memory

It's night. I'm outside with someone. It is cold out and I'm wearing my leather jacket. My hands are crammed into my pockets. I'm rocking front and back. I think we are waiting for someone while we are talking. Lothar is standing to my left. He is in uniform and large winter coat. There is a grey brick building behind him. The glow from a yellowish light comes from a light on the side of the building. The building looks official. I think we are standing in a street or plaza area. To my right I can see other tall buildings. They are two or three stories tall and a strasse with an occasional car. I'm still rocking back and forth on my feet. Heel to toe. Occasionally I look down at my feet as I do this. I'm wearing my boots as usual.

I'm restless and I'm tired of waiting. I get the impression that Lothar and I are talking about someone and his behavior. We are trying to "figure" him out. I can't tell who we are talking about or where we are. We want to go and have dinner. I'm hungry. I want to go, and I'm wondering what is taking so long. We both look up at the windows in the large grey building. Lights are on in various windows.

Someone, an officer, comes out the front door, but he walks off in another direction. There is a medium sized tree behind me. As a matter of fact I think there is a row of them for decoration. What could be taking so long? We are wondering. Lothar and I discuss whether we should go inside. I don't really want to because the minute you go inside, then someone wants to stop and talk. I want to get going. We start for the front door, and three officers come out. They are the ones that we were waiting for. Everyone is in a good mood.

Faces are hard to see, but one of them has a dark mustache and dark hair. We start to walk and a light rain begins to fall. We walk in the direction that I had my back to when I first started to describe the memory. I don't remember the walk or how we got to the restaurant. It was a very nice place and I felt a little under dressed since I was in regular field uniform. The restaurant had high ceilings with brightly lit chandeliers. The walls were wallpapered with a dusty rose brocade pattern. The furniture was either a dark rich wood or French provincial, the wall paper came down only part way from the ceiling to meet white molding where to the floor the wall was painted white. We sat at a round table with a white linen cloth towards the middle front part of the room, which I didn't care for.