Who?
Resi
Where?
Berlin, Germany
What?
"I love you."
How did she react?
"I love you, too." 
How did I feel?
A while ago someone asked, "What is the most beautiful compliment you can think of?"
I replied, "I love you. because that integrates the complete person. It does not just point out one aspect of someone's being, like a character trait or even an ability of theirs. It's nothing they do and nothing they have but every single thing they are regardless of what anybody, including me and them, thinks about these things."
I love you. The huge statement. Sometimes the hardest, always the greatest. Love. What is that? 
I can't say. Every time I have tried to define it philosophically I gave up at some point, feeling like I was moving further away from love instead of approximating it. Words are limited. That limitation makes them too small for love. All I can do is describe. And feel.
In previous posts I have said: It's what everything comes down to. 
And that I am convinced there are various types of love. Personal love, universal love, parental love, romantic love- countless concepts, discussed for centuries. Whichever idea you go for I don't think one of them is more valuable than another. Maybe there are as many kinds of love as people on this planet. 

Honest compliments come from a place of love, too. I can look at a stranger with loving eyes and that will make me find beauty. Love = devotion? Devotion is a part of it, yes. But love is more. It always is. 
The kind of love I look at my friend Resi with sure is devotional. But it's not momentary. It's constant. I may not always be in touch with it but it is always there. I am not in control of it. It makes me want her to be happy. And it makes me happy when she's around. Just because she is who she is. Again, not because she does or has or is any particular thing- but herself. Including all the particular things she is. All the women there are within her. And the kids. And the grannies. And the dudes. And the shadows. And the sparkles. And... 
Now it's not like I can't look at her with the compliment love I regard strangers with, too: I recognize she has an amazing singing voice. It's crystal clear and gives me goose bumps. Also I enjoy her genius when it comes to fixing a quick yet tasty dinner. For clothes and interior she is all about romantic flowers. Her style is specific, it makes me find gifts for her everywhere I go- I admire her clarity in taste. I love her points of view because she is always well informed and reflects a lot. She listens to Wagner, Bach and Avishai Cohen- AND Andrew Lloyd Webber! What a great lack in musical dogma! She reads Kafka before falling asleep and her sheets always smell like a sea of flowers. Her passion for Jägermeister-RedBull makes her eyes sparkle so honestly I can't even dish her for it even though it's disgusting. She possesses a hundred dresses and goes to the opera house. She glows when telling you about another Puccini, Mozart or Bizet staging she has just attended. A day later you will find her dancing at an electronic music festival. Or backpacking in South East Asia. Or hanging out at her grandma's (the most amazing senior I know) in the country. Staying true to herself her fridge has been containing the same stuff for years and whenever I see semi mature Gouda, green Pesto or salted butter I think of her. And smile. We lived together for two years, she really was my home when I desperately looked for one. Words cannot express how grateful I am for her being there for me when I needed her. If it wasn't for her and her family I might not be around anymore. She cares. And sees right through me when I don't. She feels and loves and yet stays real in what she recommends and how she evaluates situations: Resi is the one who tells you things you don't want to hear. A true friend. 
You know the thing is, if you compliment someone on the street you can give in to that moment, that person, their spark. And experience immense beauty. You will be able to phrase it because the encounter is bound through time. There is a clear before-during-after. What I feel for Theresa is timeless. I have known her for too long to put who she is into words. Or who we are. When you meet someone new and fall for them, no matter if friend or partner, praising them is easy. You've had eyes rolling to your 10th statement about how great someone you've just met is, and what they do, and what you learn from them, haven't you? I have. Don't get me wrong, it's not like Resi does not surprise me still. I have a constant crush on her even after seven years, after all she is the greatest person. But if I were to describe her to someone who didn't know her it'd be a hard task. Because words are not enough. She is not just a crush, she is so much more. Obviously. When I talk about her it makes me climb down within myself and hang out in that chamber in which I feel the deepest and strongest connection to her. It's warm in there and full of smiles. And tears. And sighs. Hugs, great wishes for her, jokes to make her laugh, hands to hold her and ease her when she is in pain. Uncountable memories, all around the globe. Little words, no explaining. Just feelings.That inner place is not where a crush will take place. It's not a one I open to many people either. And it's definitely not the place in which I analyze the notion of love. It's the place I call home. 
Anything else?
Resi leaves for Israel tomorrow. Six months Jerusalem. I hope her new friends will get what a diamond they are blessed to be with. And I will miss her like crazy.

Bonn reminds me of my Potsdam years, going to school in a pretty town next to a bigger city. It's college and Cologne for Bonn, it was high school and Berlin for Potsdam. First boyfriend, first time drunk, first naked night swim. Memories wave everywhere in that town. While strolling through Potsdam's streets yesterday I realized it is the perfect place for raising kids. Apparently I am not the only one thinking that. I saw more pregnant women than in Prenzlberg. For a reason: This town isn't only full of wonderful historic architecture and located next to Europe's current cultural capital but also full of green, small enough for me to meet people five years after graduation, packed with awesome gastronomy, bursting with high class concerts, intellectually stimulating (there's a University, too).. I can see how moms and dads choose Potsdam over Berlin. What the place lacks in excitement it tempers with feelgood factor. It makes you sigh and hum and close your eyes for a moment to enjoy. I went to school on a peninsula! The transport system: A ferry. There are enough rich people who can afford pieces of art offered in little shops and boutiques. They are the reason, too, for Potsdam regaining it's pretty face. All the old buildings were restored once the GDR had ended and wealthy Berliners moved to Potsdam.

Unfortunately it rained (that's why the pictures don't smile as broadly as they could). Shortly before I left the sky cleared up:

These pictures were taken in Bornstedt. Before I was at the Orangerie in Park Sanssouci:

I first returned to Potsdam a year ago. That is when I rediscovered Anna's flower shop (Jägerstraße 39), too. Today I complimented her.

Who?
Anna
Where?
Potsdam, Germany
What?
"I love your shop. You have created a piece of paradise. The forms, the interior and of course the flowers... Amazing taste. The whole room is traversed by your warmth. Coming here is a real treat. "
How did she react?
I could feel she was touched. She sighed. "Thank you!", opened her arms and we hugged. 
How did I feel?
I remember that day vividly. I was on my way to meet a friend from school when I passed the flower shop. Only a few weeks earlier one of our former classmates had passed away and we were going to visit his grave. Anna had known him, too. When I entered her shop and told her about our plan she gave me the rose I wanted to bring for free. The circumstances created a strange connection between us. I felt very close to her even though I'd never known her well and it had been years since I last saw her. Death brings people together. I hadn't experienced that before. It was hard, the whole day was hard. Meeting Anna, standing in her shop, smelling the flowers and feeling her warm eyes rest on me soothed me. 
Her softness and her loving way were moving again when I saw her yesterday. I was going to the cemetery and afresh she was- there. She is a person to be grateful for. Some time has passed since last year. I still miss my friend yet I am less shocked. I had more space for appreciating her shop. Looking around I realized how carefully she chooses the plants. She arranges them in the most aesthetic way. Her visual sense is amazing, both in terms of floristics and interior design. 
Her receiving the compliment made me happy. When I left I felt everything at once: Moved, happy, filled with affection, sad and glad there is Anna and her shop. 

One more thing: So I mentioned the town's full of great gastronomy. If you happen to visit here's a few suggestions where to eat: 

Trattoria Pane e Vino. Amazing Pasta.

Backstolz. Amazing cakes.

Waschbar. Amazing washing machines with ladie's names. And coffee. Great coffee. I stole the picture from their website

Last but not least: 
A student's joy, the Kebab. Cheap and filling. The one and only Potsdam Kebab is XXL. It's family run. They serve the classics at classic hours. Stop by for a midnight Döner and check out their amazing curry sauce!

Who?
Jo, César, Max, Marko
Where?
Berlin, Germany
What?
"Watching you skate for 10 minutes was the most relaxing thing. The constant movement looked like a dance! Super nice. Thanks guys."
How did they react?
Laughed. Said, "You are most welcome!"
How did I feel?
Berlin's streets strike in your face. They constantly move. Smelling of Kebab, dog shit and fumes they mix everything. The more the merrier. Dandies, dancers, dirt, drugs- all there, waiting to be seen and played with. Looking for inspiration? A quaint encounter? A momentary escape? Awesome. Go outside. It'll be your lucky day 24/7. Trying to arrive at a destination? Not so much. You have the BVG- not reliable. A car? Forget it, no parking spaces. The answer: A bike. Hell yeah! I know. Biking rocks. And yes, Berlin does, too. Especially when riding your bike! Theoretically. The city is mountain free. There are bike trails almost everywhere... And on a day like today- biking in the sun. A great soundtrack in your ears (any suggestions?). What on earth could be better than that?
You see I don't even mind a couple of near death experiences per day. Some car almost knocking me over reminds me of what I really care about in life. Or at least of all the swear words I know. Either way there is passion. I have always considered traffic an aggression release space. Plus choosing your bike over the BVG keeps you in shape: Calculate 40 minutes per route. After a few months your legs will be plain steel. And you will be down for going to that filthy bar around the corner whose smokey air used to kill your lungs. Who cares? The air pollution has painted them black anyway.But regardless of the full win win there is in Berlin biking I just can't get over this one thing. It waits for you when you flip the coin of the inspiration fountain on big B's streets. Remember? The atmosphere that once dragged you into the city, the sounds and winks and incidents. The stories, the moments, the variety... They turn a one way bike ride into a lot to take in. And a whole bike day into over stimulation at it's best. Today I experienced the latter. For the gazillionth time. 7 hours outside, running errands, meeting friends, Riding from A to B to C back to B... And C again. Countless smiles, 23 overheard languages, about 23403248394738947983462 red lights, 5 almost accidents, 3 cusswords. Old people, kids, couples, groups. Bratwurst, coffee, bread, chocolate. Honk. Green, blue, yellow, grey. Music, Screaming, phone melodies, sirens. At 7:30 PM I was in Mitte, walking down the Invalidenstraße, in desperate need for a bench in the sun. I wasn't tired, I was exhausted. Suddenly I heard a sound I hadn't noticed all day. I turned my head and saw a bunch of skaters practicing at a skate park. And a bench! I went over, sat down and- stared into space. Relaxing my eyes. At some point I started watching them. Five minutes later my shoulders started to soften. A smile made it's way on to my face. I dug their movements! They flowed through space, one after another... They had found a system in which at least one of them was constantly driving. It looked like a beautiful choreography to me. I breathed simultaneously to their movements for a while. I don't know how they did it but they helped me reconnect (probably the sitting down helped, too). I felt like saying "Ouuh... yeah..." after each of their tricks, no matter if they succeeded or not. They spread a friendly vibe by applauding every time one of them mastered a stunt. But at the end of the day I cared about  the beauty of their subtle movements and the flow that didn't stop most. I interrupted them for the compliment. That was easy, too. They took it gratefully yet they stayed cool-After all they were skaters! When I left one of them said, "You know where to find us next time you need someone to calm you down. Just stop by." Thanks a lot! Will do! And thank you for making me realize: Berlin takes up all my energy if I let it. Yes. But as soon as I sit down for a moment I might get it all back through a bunch of skaterboys.

Who?
Pascal
Where?
Eisenach, Germany
What?
"You are the most considerate and skillful waiter I have been served by in years. Thank you for your incredible amount of attention and friendliness!"
How did he react?
He stood still. Folding his hands in front of his belt he took a breath. His look said: Ok. I can do this. I will make it through. 
When I was done he said, very seriously, "Thank you. I am not good at receiving compliments. But I appreciate it." 
How did I feel? 
The town of Eisenach marks half of the drive Andernach-Berlin. There is a wonderful Café there. They serve vegan food and fancy teas. And heavenly cakes. It's become my family's tradition to stop and grab a bite on the way to Berlin. 
When I entered this time I was immediately greeted by Pascal. He lead me to a table. Moving quickly he didn't spread a hasty vibe. Rather a professional one: His arms and voice and eyes flew through the room. My drink stood in front of me in no time. His hands danced their way over the table, placing a sugar caster and a napkin next to my tea. Each movement was perfection. "Anything else I can do for you?" he asked with the the friendliest voice. I said, "Yes. Can I have a paper and a pen?" "Oh, sure! Here you go." He handed me his notepad. Next time he passed my table he caught me drawing. "Oh no! I didn't know you were going to draw.. Let me get you a bigger piece of paper. These ones are too small... I know the score."  Seconds later he was back with a bunch a of large sheets.
I watched him for a while. He talked to every customer, just a handful of sentences, each of them carefully selected. A guy wearing a hat got a little how-easily-these-hats-get-lost chat, an elderly couple some suggestions for activities in Eisenach. He chose just the right amount of words. Without getting on anyone's nerves he made everyone feel seen and welcome. 
Later he served me a good salad. 
Before I left I complimented him. He stayed professional even then: Saying thank you in the most polite way, kindly explaining receiving a compliment was not his favorite thing. I think he did a great job at taking it. His whole appearance reminded me of Monsieur Gustave from the Grand Budapest Hotel (by the way: On my top three of this year's films! A must watch if I may say so). We got into talking. Turns out Pascal is a Berliner, too. 
"Why Eisenach?"
"It was about time to move. 30 years of Berlin leave you overstimulated, feeling like you've seen it all. Initially I came for love. Now I am still here. It's been a couple of months. And the absolute right decision."
"Yeah, I hear you. The greatest thing moving away from Berlin for me-"
"...is the nature.", we said at once. We laughed.
"Anyway Berlin is my home", he went on, "I will return eventually. But I am not done here. Plus I am in a lucky place: No one is waiting for me. The friends I have all know we'll stay in touch. And other than that- I am completely free. No family, no kids." 
"Sounds like you are a brave person."
When I gave him the address of the blog I told him he should tell me if there was something in the post he didn't want to see published. 
He responded: "No worries. I am one of the few people still believing in artistic freedom." 
Thanks, Pascal. 
I hope your journey will lead you to beautiful places. And to love. Lots of that. And to strings tying you to people you wish to be tied to.
Keep up your great work. I am sure every customer is thankful for your awesome service.

Who?
Käthe
Where?
Cologne, Germany
What?
"I just saw you dancing. You were amazing."
How did she react?
She burst out into laughter. She cheered. Then she held my arm: "Great! Wonderful! And can I tell you how old I am?"
"Absolutely"
"I am 86!"
"Unbelievable."
"Born in Kölle (Cologne)!"
"Nice."
"And my health is A1!"
"Well, I am glad! I'll drink to that."
How did I feel? 
Käthe was alive. We met at Merowinger Straßenfest, Cologne's southern part of town's block party. I was walking down the street, watching kids play in the sun, enjoying the scent of fresh waffles and finding treasures at the flea market. Suddenly I spotted her. She stood at a table with a friend and her glass. Behind her a loudspeaker boosted Schlager music. And Käthe- started dancing. By herself. Snipping her fingers and tilting her hips she swinged, a broad smile occupying her face. I passed her, gave her a thumbs up and we both laughed. Seconds later I realized she was the perfect candidate. I returned and complimented her. She was in the ultimate Sunday mood, cheering every other moment, crying "Hör ma! Isch werd jeknipst!"* when I asked her if I could take her picture. Suddenly she fell quiet. For a moment there we were silent. Then she asked: "But can I raise my glass on the picture?" 
I grinned. "Sure you can!" -... And the sunshine was back on.
We didn't chat for long but the encounter was great. 
Before I left I congratulated her on her good health and wished her all the very best: "You stay safe and live another ton of years." 
"Rosa, Rosa, of course I will! There's no doubt whatsoever."

*"Listen up! She'll take my photograph!" with a Cologne accent

Who?
Ewald
Where?
Oberwinter, Germany
What?
"What an awesome bike! Great work keeping it in shape! Thanks for riding it and lighting my day."
How did he react?
He and his friend laughed. His friend said: "See I told you she was gonna say something about the bike..:"
He said: "Haha, yeah! Thank you! As a matter of fact this one is 40 years old! I used to have another one of those but i gave it to my son. Guess what I got two 40 year old cars - beetles- in my garage, too!"
"Oooh beetles! I love them! You've got a great taste in vehicles... So are you an Oberwinterer?" 
"Sure. I live right over there... I am fairly new to this area though, I have only lived here for 8 years. Originally I am from another town 7 miles further. But my kids live here and they kept telling me to sell my house and buy one here. So eventually I did it."
"Sounds like you are one great dad."
How did I feel? 
Meeting Ewald was a pleasure. My friends and I were taking a bike trip along the Rhine. We had just turned off from the trail, about to take a break and buy some food in an Oberwinter supermarket. That's when Ewald passed us on his motorbike. It's rattling drowned our conversation and it's red caught our attention. I saw him again in front of the supermarket and ran, shouting. "Excuse me..." The compliment went super easy, Ewald was pure friendliness. I spent five minutes with him in which about 7 people passed, grinning, greeting and asking "How are you, Ewald? Good to see you!". His accent was amazing. To me it sounded like a mixture of all German accents there are but apparently it's typical for the area he was born in. I wished he'd never stop talking so I could listen to his accent and enjoy his friendly vibe forever. 

My high school. image source

Who?
Cathrin
Where?
Potsdam, Germany
What?
You are a great teacher. 
How did she react?
She hasn't yet. I will forward her this link.
How did I feel? 
Every compliment is a thank you: By complimenting someone I am actually thanking them for a piece of light they put out in the world. Some candidates radiate consciously, some don't. Some do it on purpose while playing music, baking cakes or growing an awesome beard- others just let it happen. They shine through their smiles or the way they move. 
Obviously there is a second part involved: It takes sensitivity on the observer's side. That's what I am training in this project. I want to perceive the little pieces of light around me. So yes, every compliment is a thank you and just like any other thank you it needs something to be thankful for and someone to say and feel it.

Yesterday I talked to a deprived school teacher. Her stories filled me with respect for her strength, devotion and endurance. When she was finished I said: "These kids are going to thank you to the moon and back some day, for not giving up on them no matter how huge their resistance was." 
When we'd said goodbye I kept thinking about her. And about teachers. And about how amazingly blessed I have been with all those loving and competent ones in my life. I realized: This project is my chance to thank them. By complimenting them. Or just saying thank you. Apparently, same thing anyways...

What exactly was it they gave to me?
Let's start with Cathrin. To me, she was Mrs. Könnecke. 
She taught Biology. I was in her class in 11th grade. She'd just finished her degree, she was young and rode her bike to school every day. I remember she had one of those cool bike bags. Practical and aesthetic. But it wasn't that. It wasn't the fact that her hair was the prettiest I'd ever seen around school either. 
It was her drive. She was on fire. She watched We Feed The World with us, an amazing and disturbing documentary on food waste and -production. There were baby chickens taken down an assembly line that automatically threw them into boxes. Many of them died- so what. Trucks delivering tons of fresh bread to a garbage dump- see, prices must be saved. Fish ceased, fields poisoned, kids malnourished. It was horrible. (It still is.) When the film was over everyone sat in silence. We were devastated. For a while nothing happened. Then the bell ringed. 
But Mrs Könnecke didn't let us leave like that. Instead she got up and said: "Now it's important you understand you don't have to be part of the game. There are other ways. There is something you can do, even you. You have a choice, I have a choice. We all do. Choose the farmer's market over the discount store. Start growing your own things. Even if it's just tomatoes, it's worth something. Say no to an extra plastic bag. Get a lunch box. Support small, local shops. You can make a difference, no matter how small it seems, it's worth it."
I will never forget that. "There are other ways." She was standing upright, her eyes sparkling. And I thought: "Wow."
She taught genetics. I still know: Prophase, Metaphase, Anaphase, Telophase- 8 years later. She knew what she was doing. Her structures were distinct, I never felt lost in her class.
Sure, it was all that. Yet there was something more. If you ask me that something is essential. It draws the division line between a good and a bad teacher: Mrs. Könnecke was a great teacher not only because she was passionate and skillful. It was because she believed in me and conveyed that. She saw the light in me, trusting my abilities both intellectually and personally. And she managed to make me feel she did. It was in the way she looked at me and talked to me. There was respect. And love. For what she was doing- and for me. It's people like her who have made me start believing in the person I am and realize I am beautiful, I've got something to give and to say. A perception to trust, a heart to honor and a talent to work for.
I can't think of anything more valuable than that. 
Thank you so much, Mrs Könnecke. 

Who?
Johannes
Where?
Andernach, Germany
What?
"I like your taste in music!"
How did he react?
Laughed. "Thanks! That only proves you have a great taste in music yourself!"
"Haha, nice one. Thanks! Do you want a piece of my chocolate bar?"
"No, I am watching my eating these days."
"If you say so... I don't see why you should but do what you have to do man..."
Looked up. Grinned. "So this was the second compliment then, huh!?"
"Sure!"
We both laughed. 
How did I feel? 
A big city's liquor store is a small town's gas station. I can only imagine what growing up in Andernach must be like- Turning 15, 16, sneaking outside- and then? Too old just have a sleepover, too young to go out. 
Thank god there is the 24 hrs gas station. It's about time for the very first secret backyard sip of beer, feeling more mature and alive than anyone else on this planet.
My secret sip of beer is my late night candy bar. Yesterday I returned to Andernach at 2 AM and craved a  bedtime candy- and yes, thank god there is the 24 hrs gas station. 
I entered and heard- the sound of electronic music! Good electronic music. The guy working on the till was slightly younger than me, red-haired and greeted me with a light smile. 
I paid my beloved everyday duty, explaining the project and complimenting. It was sweet! His reaction: Delighted. Slightly surprised yet good at repartee (read above). 
He wrote down the name of the track - the moon shines - for me and we had a little chat. He didn't agree to a picture. 
"Fine. So let me give you the address of the blog. If I write anything you don't want to be published online please let me know, I'll delete it."
"Oh, you know, I don't read these things... Don't bother."
"Oh, ok, well then you stay safe and have a sweet night!"
"Yeah, you, too. All the best."

Who?
Hüseyin
Where?
Cologne, Germany
What?
"You just gave me the best cookie I have eaten in months! It was... amazing."
How did he react?
"Haha, I totally saw that! Your expression said everything. Come here, I'll give you another one! This one's actually even better I think..."
How did I feel? 
Like cookie god had blessed me. Initially I'd been at this Turkish bakery around the corner to grab some Baklava and cookies as a thank you gift for a friend. I was undecided for a while- all the cookies looked great. How were I supposed to know which ones to go for? Hüseyin watched me. He went over to one of the cookie mountains, took a chocolate cream filled one and gave it to me. "Try this!" 
I said "Thanks!" and took a bite. Immediately I stopped moving. Every part of my body was busy tasting and enjoying. Paradise unfolded in my mouth: A sweet chocolate cream center, perfect consistency. A hard cover that turned into marvelous, sugary sand while resting on my tongue.
It took a bit to eat this baby, it was big. Every part I let melt in my mouth tasted richer, better, more intense. 
Finally I ordered, paid, left. I was still spacing out in cookie land.
Once I'd handed my friend his gift I knew I had to return to the bakery and compliment Hüseyin. 
He was amazingly friendly, had a great laugh and refused to believe I was doing this- the complimenting- every day. He took a moment, then said: "On the other hand, you are so likeable- if anyone does something like that it's gotta be you." 
What a beautiful statement! Thank you, Hüseyin. 
"Hey, do you want some coffee? I'll get one for myself- how about you?"
Cookies, coffee, compliments. I received an amazing collection of gifts (And, as I am realizing now, co-words! :). And I found the answer to a question I have been asking myself for a while: Obviously great hospitality is a major part of the oriental culture. But what reaction is adequate? I did have a feeling accepting the things offered to me
was the right thing to do. On the other hand I'd heard about cultures like the Japanese in which the "correct" reaction would've been three times "no!" and only then, finally, "yes.". Not for the Turkish- Hüseyin explained and I know now: If they open the doors to cookie love for you you better step inside. For your own social-, tummy- and ultimate-total-soul-food-self-love good! 
Thanks for all these beautiful gifts and 15 great minutes chatting, Hüseyin. You are too good. 

Who?
Valentin
Where?
Cologne, Germany
What?
"Your hair looks like it's the fluffiest thing on the planet!"
How did he react?
Super open:
"Wow, thank you! Do you wanna feel it?"
"Sure!... Incredible. You are like a cat!"
"But yours looks super soft, too!"
"Wanna touch?"
"Absolutely! ... Uh-huh! Your hair exceeds mine... And I love your rain coat! And your project!"
How did I feel? 
So far every compliment has been a bright window lighting my day. They always make me smile. Some come with tons of food for thought, some just with a snack. Some turn into an hour long conversation, some last thirty seconds. And some candidates are interesting and I appreciate them- while others and I really click.
Valentin was the latter. He was likeable all through and I would love to make friends with him. 
I caught him crossing the street with his friend Birthe. 
Their look was candid and so was the whole encounter: Five happy minutes. 
And, wow, by telling Valentin this one thing- that I liked his hair- I stepped into a compliment rain! They kept telling me they liked my project and asked some smart questions. We ended up brainstorming about different kinds of compliments and concreting the pity compliment. 
Such a great vibe! Thanks, Valentin and Birthe, I hope you got home safely.