The city is incredibly crowded (as all years this period). I go out only to see a movie. The cashier tells me “no more places”, bluntly. She is probably saying this for the last ten minutes to all sorts of people. All the same, for me it’s an unbearable slight. So I go away to search for some milk. I choose to go to a store where the cashiers always greet me and often smile (there are two of them, have been there for years, they have seen me thousands of times; after all I am a gentle customer). The one to whom I pay my milk asks me: “have you made your Xmas presents?” Answer: “To whom? To myself?”, jumping on the occasion to convey my lonely status. She answers back “I am here for that” opening her arms. I might go on joking: “express your wishes” or, more daringly, “I might give you a hug before Xmas.” That (as a joke) would not disturb her. I don’t say anything, in fact, but I go away in a better state of mind. I know she treats me with sympathy. Of course: now I am poking fun at myself. To a certain extent.
02 Dec 2006, 3:07 pm
