A German obsessed with my tea

Amsterdam, autumn 2000 —

My German housemate is obsessed with my tea. It's annoying beyond all proportion.

I drink tea. I make a cup of tea for any reason, or for no reason. It is confounding to me that this could be fascinating to a grown man.

But once or twice a week, when Robert and I are home at the same time and he sees me getting a second cup, he will say — you could set your watch by it — "you are having another cup of tea?"

I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to ask Robert if we can stop talking about my tea.