I was posted to a diplomatic military assignment in Germany for some months. Carmel would have to travel to visit her family periodically. I spent my time driving somewhat randomly on the Autobahn, swerving around stuff.
Then I was a Russian Orthodox monk. Our monastery had moved from Russia to the Bay Area, into the Saratoga Hills sometime in the 90s. One of our order had gone into a trance in 1962 as a protest against the Cold War and he was just now waking up, forty-one years later, so I was tasked with escorting him into town to acclimatize him. We went into a Noah's Bagels; he was appalled to see me order in English and pay with American dollars.