You’re not supposed to Tamper with the evidence, but what about when you tamper with something, and it somehow makes things… better?
I pondered this while finding myself in Lille, one of the most delicious of cities nooked up in northern France. Having taken the roadways of northern France in the good company of Kahwehgi, we found ourselves in Lille’s Old Town at Tamper. A delightful wooden haven of chipper staff milling amongst patrons with foaming coffee drinks and budding green succulents as endearing as the coffee shop’s ambiance. Adjusting my glasses atop my nose, I tried to understand what Tamper could possibly be tampering with. To my accords, everything gleamed of wonderful. And then came the food.
“It can’t be,” Kahwehgi’s eyes widened in front of me after a cheese pancake and raw salmon adornments were served before him. “I’m dead.”
Never mind the plum hotcakes and flat whites that followed.
But that was just it. Though I had eaten pancakes tenfold times prior, these pancakes entered my life and somehow made things better.
It was like playing my favorite song. Roses by Outkast stands as forever overplayed on my playlist. From dancing in the fields of Grant Park at Lollapalooza in Chicago to jamming solo in my little car back home, Roses has always been my feel good. But then, it got tampered with. Tampered in the best of ways.
I found myself sitting passenger side in Kahwehgi’s car, scrolling and searching for the best road trips songs to sing along to. Out of habit and propensity, I turned up the volume to Roses knowing how much the song makes me my heart happy. Never mind the lyric bashing on Caroline – sorry, Caroline. In those 6 minutes and 05 seconds though, this song suddenly became tampered. It somehow became better.
Singing amongst glittering French traffic framing the outside the city, I rapped along to Outkast, but more notably, alongside Kahwehgi. He smiled while singing the elongated drawls of Caroline! And suddenly, Caroline became much more than Outkast’s betch. She became something I wanted to replay again and again. For different and more reasons than before.
My song had been tampered with.
As had my perception of all of what pancakes could be. Which brought me back to my moment there with my good company. Cheesy pancakes? G bless, I’m dead too.
Somewhere between my final morsels of stewed plums, I looked across the table at Kahwehgi. I realized me and Tamper shared something in common: we saw the word “tamper” with the air of something positive, making changes to distort what we originally knew and influence it into being better.
I stared at my meal understanding Tamper’s version of what makes life better. Then I looked across the table to see my version of what makes life better too.
*Kahwehgi is a nickname intended for the anonymity of this blog
Tamper: 10 Rue des Vieux Murs, 59800 Lille