Cookie Caper

So this is clearly a Lindsey story.

I walk to work pretty consistently. I have calculated that I walk nearly 4 miles round trip to/from work daily (that is, if I am not running late and must guiltily grab the tram). Every time I walk, I pass the Herzog and de Meuron studio, and see people seriously, diligently working. No Gmail breaks, no Wikipedia, just serious work. And everyone is individually plugged into their iPods, and probably off in some other world, not realizing that real people are really living on the outside of this glass tank. They seem like some sort of caged specimen. 

So. I pity them. I know how it is to be completely consumed by work. I also know how great it is to have people visit you and bring you break food. I was telling this to my neighbor as we were walking home, and told him that I really just wanted to make them cookies. I didn't know if that would be creepy, or if they thought I would be doing something sketch like poison or something, but I just wanted to be nice. When we reached the H+dM studios, he stopped a man going in, and started talking Swiss German. I of course understood only keywords like "Ohio" and "graphic design," but knew he was telling them of my cookie bailout desires. The man responded, "We like cookies! Yes! Anytime, cookies are good."

So. On Monday night I planned to make them all-American chocolate chip cookies, and I went to the grocery store to find the ingredients. I never knew how much I depended on pictures on packaging until this experience. There were about twelve types of flour, and I couldn't find baking soda to save my life. Cookies did not happen on Monday, out of literacy issues. Vanilla comes in little test tube vials and not a bottle. Domino, somewhat moist brown sugar doesn't exist here, and I couldn't even find chocolate chips in this chocolate hub. So by Thursday I had looked up the necessary word translations online and got the closest ingredients, and decided I would cut up my own chocolate chips. There are some shortcuts you can do in cooking, improv cooking, but in baking you usually have to be pretty dead on. I was scared that I would fall short, but in the end, they looked like cookies and tasted pretty close. I think the brown sugar I got wasn't completely right, but it all worked. 

So. Friday after work, with a bag in tote, I walked my normal route, and just had to start laughing at the absurdity of it all. I rang the bell, and stood there trying to figure out what I would say. First, I must talk English. I have no chance in German. Second, how do I explain this, and not look like a complete psychotic nutcase? Then, a guy approached the door, and I just started spilling and stuttering about how I am from Ohio, a graphic design student, see them working so hard, blah, hoping something would make sense. He said to come back on Monday, so that the women in the reception office could distribute the cookies. It felt like the Wizard of Oz. I told the man, well, I have them now, and pointed at the bag. So he just sort of shrugged, unlocked the door, and brought me to this woman, where they proceeded to discuss what to do, in Swiss German. I just sort of chimed in, "Do you care if I just bring these cookies to the people in that glass room over there?" They didn't care, so I just sort of went over there, and knocked on the glass. A woman opened the door, the entire room of 8 of them just looked at me, like who are you and why did we just let you in. So I went through my spiel again, and then pulled out a plate of cookies. One guys eyes got really wide. He was like, "Are those homemade?" And I said ya. It was really quiet for awhile, and when I had gone around and given them all, they just sort of held it, looked at it, probably in wonder and suspicion. I was like, "Umm... I can eat one with you if you feel like this is really creepy or something." And then in a sort of unison they all took a bite. I think when they realized I was harmless, they warmed up and started asking me question about my schooling, about Fasnacht, why I am in Basel, etc. One woman invited me to get a drink with them later sometime, so that we could really talk, and when they had their project finished. 

We took the leftover cookies into the kitchen, and I met some other people there. It was definitely awkward the entire time. But I went home with the biggest smile on my face. I still can't believe I did that. Now, I am wondering if when I walk by on my way to work, if I should wave. 

Hope you got a good laugh. Love.