A nation of handicapped constructors, installers, and owners have conspired so that the innocent passer-by, already crushed under the heat from the sun and the pavement, can be refreshed with water from the air conditioning machines.
And that is happening in the streets of Bucharest, as we speak.
Chatty, smart, gregarious, freshly settled in the big city, opinionated, could easily get on the interlocutor’s toes. Me, seven years ago. Oddly he has the age I had when I arrived. Also thinking that everything has to do with him, like I used to. Hence my tired smile, he though was an enigmatic but superior manifestation. Which was not the case. I was just hot from the scorcher and tired and looking back at how I used to be.
This time I have accidentally place the mug on the edge of the tray, which subsequently led to my mobile being drowned in a pool of coffee, milk, and honey.
I won’t possibly be able to change my phone, for financial and mood reasons. Better won’t be sticky. And better all my contacts still work.
I woke up at six something, and to no avail. The only noticeable result so far is spilling water on the couch. Speaking of the elements, I feel… aerial?
I needed an easily digestible movie, after the day’s scorcher. So, there! shampoo and rinse, but don’t repeat. Totally different from my previous choice.
Anyways, half way into the movie, Mr Stinkie seated himself next to me and started scratching and fretting like he had scabies, fleas, or both. I have painfully endured all this, and even his rudimentary attempt to start some sort of conversation. But when he started to touch himself I had to take myself to the other end of the theater. On the way back home, it seemed like the all subway was looking at me as if I was not aware of something really obvious to the rest of them.
“…bla bla bla… . THAT’s my second point. My FIRST point is … yada yada yada.”
“An equation is worth a thousand words, but I am not going into the details” said the speaker promptly jumping to the next slide. The people didn’t have time to show their puzzled little faces.
“Thank you, Professor, for your dense analysis !”
Every now and then these false friends play a trick or two on them international conference goers.
I enjoy breaks far more than work. But then again, who doesn’t?
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