It takes getting used to some things that I had forgotten work differently in towns like Tallinn. On our way to friends' we found a very quiet pizza joint near where we live (Peetri Pizza), in the corner of Tööstuse and Volta Streets. Kids love pizza and close enough to deliver, should we ever need delivery. The place looked sterile and new, a lonely man was eating his pie in the corner. After ordering I told the pizza lady that we live close by and asked whether they deliver. She tells me "Number there," and points towards the window. "Good, so you deliver, we live really close by, how long does it usually take?" I continue. "Number there," she repeats. "Oh, you don't have a delivery guy, you use some outside service?" "Number there," she insists, and offers: "one and half hour". I realized she cannot speak Estonian more than shop talk. Being used to incomprehensible non-English-speaking sales staff in New York I drew a conclusion that delivery makes no sense. Then a guy steps in, looking a bit lost, and asks for an A. Le Coq beer. "No sell beer," the sales lady declares. I see a fridge full of beer behind her. "Why?" the guy asks after a short pause. "You know why," the lady insists. The man humbly retreats out into rain. I have no idea what is going on. Pic taken in front of Salme Theatre.
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