Влизам в бар, сядам си спокойно и си поръчвам бърбън с лед и сода (к’во…? Ми т’ва й е хубаво на малката заплата – че можеш и без нея – за т’ва си поръчвам смело в началото на месеца!). Седя си и кротко се наслаждавам на удоволствието и за да бъде то пълно – си паля цигара. Идва по едно време барманът и ми вика:
„Тука не се пуши!” и ме гледа кисело.
„Я! – викам аз – откога бе?!”
„От днеска!”
„Шшшшш, я…!!!” и си дърпам доволно от цигарата.
Оня изчезна някъде. По едно време идва един бабаит – явно от охраната – и застава до мене, подпира се на бара и ме гледа ‘се едно съм ей сега ще си спомни как ставаше номерът с говоренето и ще ме пита нещо. Дадох му достатъчно време да си спомни цялата процедура по това как да изглежда зъл и свиреп. Добър е! Спомня си бързо – погледът му ‘се едно ме пита ‘що съм спал със сестра му.
„Тука не се пуши, тъп ли си или к’во?”
„Май ще е „Или к’во”” му отговарям с цялата си наглост и си дърпам от цигарата. Мисля си колко време ще му отнеме, за да зацепи сарказма. Десет секунди. Обръщам се към бармана и викам: „’Що не забраните и пиенето бе? ‘Що само пушенето, а? Като ще го даваме зелено и природно по баровете?” Той даже не ме и погледна. Неговата задача вече беше в ръцете на горилата. Поръчах си още един бърбън.
„Ще загасиш ли фаса преди това?” ме попита барманът.
„Добре” – загасих го. Горилата се отдръпна на десет крачки, но продължаваше да ме гледа свирепо и да ми напомня за себе си.
Барманът ми даде пиенето и аз си извадих нова цигара. Запалих си и си дръпнах с кеф. Оня едрият пак дойде.
„Абе ти тъп ли си бе? Тука не се пуши!”
„’Що?” и си дръпнах дълбоко. Глупав навик – да дразня хора много по-едри от мен.
„Не можеш ли да четеш, виж табелката!”
„К’ва табелка? – огледах се наоколо. Нямаше табелка. Барманът отиде до другия край на бара, извади нещо отдолу и се върна. Плесна една табелка, на която пишеше: „Пушенето забранено” точно под носа ми. Едрият ми я посочи.
„Ей тая табелка!”
„Не.”
„К’во не?”
„Не мога да чета”
Точно след две секунди вече ме влачеше към изхода. Ясно, че да ме помоли да напусна щеше да е безсмислено. На излизане ме блъсна случайно в касата на вратата и нежно ме пусна да направя пирует на леда отвън.
Обаче аз съм упорит. На следващия ден пак бях там и пак повторих сценката. Само че тогава и барманът беше друг, и горилата. В бара имаха четири смени от бармани и горили. Значи имах четири дена на разположение, за да мина всички смени, преди да свърши персоналът, който не ме познава. Хубавото беше, че никога не си плащах за последното питие – как можеш да си платиш, докато те изхвърлят.
Такааа… сметнах, че ако успея да обиколя всички барове в града и да изиграя тоя моно-спектакъл, ще ми излезе с около сто лева по-евтино пиенето за месеца. Не че обичам всичко да пресмятам в пиене… ъхъъъммм… но щом говорим за барове и пушенето е вече забранено, май остава само пиенето… бе и нещо трето имаше, ма не се сещам к’во беше. Както и да е.
Хората мислят за непушачите. Сега да не ме разберете грешно – не че мразя непушачите, просто се чувствам по-добре, когато не са наоколо.
К’во? И други филмови реплики знам!
И аз бях непушач известно време: първо за 16 години – преди да пропуша, после за 5 месеца, когато спрях цигарите. Колко никотинови лепенки и хапчета си накупувах тогава. И колко ме беше яд после – с тия пари колко кутии цигари можех да си купя!
Какво сега?!?!?! Ще ме съдите?! Вие да не сте перфектни? Никой от вас ли не си бърка в носа? Е, моят противен навик просто е различен. Колко хора имат навика да не се къпят и да вмирисват околната среда и да тровят другите! А?! На тях що не им казвате нищо?! А ние пушачите сме най-дискриминирани – заврени по разни пушални и дупки, и дворове… а да не говорим, че много от ония, дето не се и къпят, съчетават два вредни навика в едно и идват да тровят въздуха двойно! Е, срещу тях трябва да има забрана, не срещу нас. Пушенето поне преди си беше нещо нормално, пропускането на банята четири поредни седмици никога не е било… нормално!
Като малък исках да стана пожарникар. ‘Що? Защото обичам дима! Какво, какво, какво?! Какво пак?! Обичам си въздуха гъст! Да го виждам, докато го дишам. Гледате вече малко враждебно май? Пак ще си задам въпроса с бъркането в носа. А…? Нали? И се чешете на публични места, и говорите високо по мобилните си телефони, и си хвърляте боклука през балкона, и минавате на червено, и се пререждате, и ми продавате бира с изтекъл срок, и си чоплите зъбите пред други хора, и говорите високо в киното… а после пушачите ви пречели на вас?!
И като се замислите: по филмите може да има тонове кръв и секс, но мръсни думи и цигари – никога! Само много, много лошите (тия дето губят накрая!) пушат или пълните тъпаци – те също пушат. Във филмите. И какво е посланието?! Че сме гадове, ще ни гръмнат накрая на филма и освен това сме тъпи. Благодаря!
Извади си пръста от носа бе!!! Да, ти!
И една блондинка, дето се запознах с нея в един от баровете, ме гледа учудено и мига на парцали: „’Ма ти си пушач!” Викам: „Гледай си работата! На тебе пък зъбите са ти криви! И ти е скапана прическата!” И си отидох. Само оттам не ме изхвърлиха – сам си тръгнах!
К’во – мислите за околната среда ли, що ли?! „Убий пушач! Спаси блондинка!”
Но след пет минути се върнах обратно – тя още седеше на бара и вече си говореше с някакъв тип до нея. Тя ме погледна учудено.
„И гласът ти е гаден – допълних – ‘се едно си глътнала детска свирка!” И си излязох. Този път наистина си тръгнах.
събота, 29 март 2008 г.
Songs
1
"I don't want
to make an effort
anymore
in my life" –
the man he said;
and there he goes...
he became
paralyzed
from the neck
down... for life.
2
"Forever stay with me
forever with you I will be" –
the man was singing;
his tumor heard him singing
and thought the man
was singing actually to him...
and forever stayed
with man...
....for the rest
of
his
life.
3
"How much I want
to be happy in this life!
More than anything
I want to want!"
So the fate
made
a joke with him,
and jokes of fate
end up bad;
the man became
drooling idiot
who never knew
what misery is...
or anything at all.
-------------------
First published in Word Riot, December 2006
"I don't want
to make an effort
anymore
in my life" –
the man he said;
and there he goes...
he became
paralyzed
from the neck
down... for life.
2
"Forever stay with me
forever with you I will be" –
the man was singing;
his tumor heard him singing
and thought the man
was singing actually to him...
and forever stayed
with man...
....for the rest
of
his
life.
3
"How much I want
to be happy in this life!
More than anything
I want to want!"
So the fate
made
a joke with him,
and jokes of fate
end up bad;
the man became
drooling idiot
who never knew
what misery is...
or anything at all.
-------------------
First published in Word Riot, December 2006
For Real
6:01 am.
The clock quietly changes the figures and now it is 6:02… 6:03…
Minutes go by one after another and vanish without a trace. The alcohol takes over the imagination and makes bad jokes with it…
There’s the door bell. Why should he get up?!
A sigh.
And a smell of alcohol steams.
The door bell doesn’t stop. Now the insolent guy from the other side of the door is leaning on the bell having no intention to let go until sees the door open!
One hour of sleep is not enough for recovery…
“…Early this morning…”
Hard and heavy steps through the corridor.
Door opens with creak.
- Hi!
- Down the corridor – the red door.
He tries to close the door.
“…When you knocked upon my door…”
She reaches and holds it.
- No! I’m looking for… you! I have something important to tell you!
- Do I know you?!
- That’s pretty rude of you but I forgive you. From now on we should get along with each other. I have something important to tell you!
***
- Go shoot yourself!!! I see you for the first time in my life, stupid whore!!! Get lost!
- Why do you have to behave like that?! I think I was delicate and tactful enough…
- I’ll call the police if you don’t get the hell out of here! I’m not kidding!
- Not to remember is swinish but to act like that is a crime and you’ll pay for that very soon!!! You’re wrong if you think you can go on just like that!!! Piece of trash!!! Bloody piece of trash!!! I’ll come back soon and then you’ll see! You’ll be sorry.
- I’m already sorry. I’m sorry they let you out of the madhouse and you came exactly on me.
***
“…Early this morning…”
Door bell rings…
One hour of sleep is not…
Creak…
- Are you Elson Turgenev?!
- Yes. Yes, why?! Is there a problem…?
- Yes, sir… (the uniforms stretch, hands reach, fingers bend into an iron grip.) …you should come with us to the station to answer few questions! You have the right to remain silent…
- Wait!!! That’s a mistake! What are the accusations…?!?!
- … everything you say might and will…
- What are the accusations; I haven’t done anything! ANYTHING!!!
- … be used against you in court. You have the right to have attorney…
- Let me go now. You’ll be very sorry!!!
Swing.
Burning pain.
Pulsing blaze. And black curtain (sound of approaching train). Distant (coming from the highest mountain and deepest cave) fading voice:
- … if you can’t afford it there will be public attorney appointed…
Darkness…
***
- Don’t I have at least the right for a phone call?!
- NO!
Lights go off and the only glow is from far away in the corridor.
Sound of squeaking bed. Smell of sweat.
- Hey! Who are you?! How long you’ve been here?!
(…)
- No… you see… it’s a mistake… they made a mistake… a crazy girl accused me for being the father of her child…
- Oh, how I hate guys like you!!!
Hit. Hit. Hit.
His head is in the toilet plate almost voluntarily. Sound of flushing water. The ears are filling with water, nostrils too. It continues for too long.
Too long.
The water flows… the blood mixes with it and goes down through the hole to somebody’s shits and wastes. Wounds are painful and burn from the water. Strong smell of cleaning preparation. Lemon and bleaching powder. Mixed with smell of urine. Rusty stripe pointing down the dark hole. The abyss of the purgatory.
He goes out on the surface and takes deep breath.
***
- Your bill’s paid. You’re going out.
- Fucking son of a bitch! I’ll break your fucking head!!!
- HEY!!! Leave him alone! Let him go!
***
- I told you, you won’t go with that this easy. You shouldn’t have treated me that way!
The water is still running down his hair, face, through the eyelids, down the shoulders…
- Who are you?! I’ve never seen you in my life!
Hit through the face.
“…When you knocked upon my door…”
- Behave mannered!
Burning pain.
- People, there’s a mistake! Big mistake! I don’t even know what you’re accus…
- You promised this girl to marry her. Made her a child and ran away after that.
- I saw her today for the first time in my life! And besides even if it was true, you can’t treat me like that. There are courts which will decide. It’s very easy – DNA analysis will be made and you’ll see there’s a mistake. You can’t arrest me for such a thing, that’s unthinkable. Impossible! Unthinkable… never… how… you are all fucking pigs! Go screw yourselves, fuckers!!! Even if I am the father you can make me pay alimony. YOU CAN’T ARREST ME!!!
Hit with a stick in the back of the neck.
Darkness.
***
- Is he ready to confess?
- He’s still playing games. Pretends he doesn’t know what this all is about.
- He will know!
Anger.
- Who the hell are you, shithead?!
- Father of the girl you disgraced. We’ll make you sorry.
We’ll make you sorry. WE!!!
***
- Your honor… I don’t want even to make a suggestion on how we came to this! All this looks more like a bad dream than a process. From the beginning I was put under inhumane tortures in the police station.
***
- Dr. Danergine, do you confirm that the results from the blood and DNA tests are positive?
- Absolutely, your honor. After two extra samples, which are necessary in our profession, we came to conclusion that Mr. Turgenev is the father…
***
- This court finds you guilty on the charge of deception, bearing false witness, escaping the justice and if it was up to me, Mr. Turgenev – moral and ethical violation of human standards and rules…
… I sentence you to three years in prison and you should be paying alimony in size of 10 000 per month…!
- WHAT!!! You have no right! You… you are a fucking bastard! I’ll break your…! You’ll die in your own shits!!! That can’t be happening… can’t be for real!!!
- … unless, Mr. Turgenev, you agree to marry this girl that you so uncleanly disgraced!
***
Darkness.
***
- You may kiss the bride!
***
- I love you!
- I hope you rot in hell, bitch!
***
There are so many ways… so many different ways…
One of them is when you stop measuring the time with a clock but with a calendar…
Years go by…
Staring at the wall in front of you.
For life…
For real…
Fuck it…
***
- Mr. Turgenev, welcome back to my court room. This time we won’t be so indulgent with you. You’re going to face the whole strictness of the law. Murder is a heavy crime.
***
- … on charges of murdering Sillia Turgenev, wife and mother of their only child, we found the defendant Elson Turgenev guilty!
***
For life.
***
Sound of squeaking bed. Smell of sweat.
***
Forever.
***
For real.
***
“…And I said: “Hello, Satan, I believe it’s time to go”…”
The clock quietly changes the figures and now it is 6:02… 6:03…
Minutes go by one after another and vanish without a trace. The alcohol takes over the imagination and makes bad jokes with it…
There’s the door bell. Why should he get up?!
A sigh.
And a smell of alcohol steams.
The door bell doesn’t stop. Now the insolent guy from the other side of the door is leaning on the bell having no intention to let go until sees the door open!
One hour of sleep is not enough for recovery…
“…Early this morning…”
Hard and heavy steps through the corridor.
Door opens with creak.
- Hi!
- Down the corridor – the red door.
He tries to close the door.
“…When you knocked upon my door…”
She reaches and holds it.
- No! I’m looking for… you! I have something important to tell you!
- Do I know you?!
- That’s pretty rude of you but I forgive you. From now on we should get along with each other. I have something important to tell you!
***
- Go shoot yourself!!! I see you for the first time in my life, stupid whore!!! Get lost!
- Why do you have to behave like that?! I think I was delicate and tactful enough…
- I’ll call the police if you don’t get the hell out of here! I’m not kidding!
- Not to remember is swinish but to act like that is a crime and you’ll pay for that very soon!!! You’re wrong if you think you can go on just like that!!! Piece of trash!!! Bloody piece of trash!!! I’ll come back soon and then you’ll see! You’ll be sorry.
- I’m already sorry. I’m sorry they let you out of the madhouse and you came exactly on me.
***
“…Early this morning…”
Door bell rings…
One hour of sleep is not…
Creak…
- Are you Elson Turgenev?!
- Yes. Yes, why?! Is there a problem…?
- Yes, sir… (the uniforms stretch, hands reach, fingers bend into an iron grip.) …you should come with us to the station to answer few questions! You have the right to remain silent…
- Wait!!! That’s a mistake! What are the accusations…?!?!
- … everything you say might and will…
- What are the accusations; I haven’t done anything! ANYTHING!!!
- … be used against you in court. You have the right to have attorney…
- Let me go now. You’ll be very sorry!!!
Swing.
Burning pain.
Pulsing blaze. And black curtain (sound of approaching train). Distant (coming from the highest mountain and deepest cave) fading voice:
- … if you can’t afford it there will be public attorney appointed…
Darkness…
***
- Don’t I have at least the right for a phone call?!
- NO!
Lights go off and the only glow is from far away in the corridor.
Sound of squeaking bed. Smell of sweat.
- Hey! Who are you?! How long you’ve been here?!
(…)
- No… you see… it’s a mistake… they made a mistake… a crazy girl accused me for being the father of her child…
- Oh, how I hate guys like you!!!
Hit. Hit. Hit.
His head is in the toilet plate almost voluntarily. Sound of flushing water. The ears are filling with water, nostrils too. It continues for too long.
Too long.
The water flows… the blood mixes with it and goes down through the hole to somebody’s shits and wastes. Wounds are painful and burn from the water. Strong smell of cleaning preparation. Lemon and bleaching powder. Mixed with smell of urine. Rusty stripe pointing down the dark hole. The abyss of the purgatory.
He goes out on the surface and takes deep breath.
***
- Your bill’s paid. You’re going out.
- Fucking son of a bitch! I’ll break your fucking head!!!
- HEY!!! Leave him alone! Let him go!
***
- I told you, you won’t go with that this easy. You shouldn’t have treated me that way!
The water is still running down his hair, face, through the eyelids, down the shoulders…
- Who are you?! I’ve never seen you in my life!
Hit through the face.
“…When you knocked upon my door…”
- Behave mannered!
Burning pain.
- People, there’s a mistake! Big mistake! I don’t even know what you’re accus…
- You promised this girl to marry her. Made her a child and ran away after that.
- I saw her today for the first time in my life! And besides even if it was true, you can’t treat me like that. There are courts which will decide. It’s very easy – DNA analysis will be made and you’ll see there’s a mistake. You can’t arrest me for such a thing, that’s unthinkable. Impossible! Unthinkable… never… how… you are all fucking pigs! Go screw yourselves, fuckers!!! Even if I am the father you can make me pay alimony. YOU CAN’T ARREST ME!!!
Hit with a stick in the back of the neck.
Darkness.
***
- Is he ready to confess?
- He’s still playing games. Pretends he doesn’t know what this all is about.
- He will know!
Anger.
- Who the hell are you, shithead?!
- Father of the girl you disgraced. We’ll make you sorry.
We’ll make you sorry. WE!!!
***
- Your honor… I don’t want even to make a suggestion on how we came to this! All this looks more like a bad dream than a process. From the beginning I was put under inhumane tortures in the police station.
***
- Dr. Danergine, do you confirm that the results from the blood and DNA tests are positive?
- Absolutely, your honor. After two extra samples, which are necessary in our profession, we came to conclusion that Mr. Turgenev is the father…
***
- This court finds you guilty on the charge of deception, bearing false witness, escaping the justice and if it was up to me, Mr. Turgenev – moral and ethical violation of human standards and rules…
… I sentence you to three years in prison and you should be paying alimony in size of 10 000 per month…!
- WHAT!!! You have no right! You… you are a fucking bastard! I’ll break your…! You’ll die in your own shits!!! That can’t be happening… can’t be for real!!!
- … unless, Mr. Turgenev, you agree to marry this girl that you so uncleanly disgraced!
***
Darkness.
***
- You may kiss the bride!
***
- I love you!
- I hope you rot in hell, bitch!
***
There are so many ways… so many different ways…
One of them is when you stop measuring the time with a clock but with a calendar…
Years go by…
Staring at the wall in front of you.
For life…
For real…
Fuck it…
***
- Mr. Turgenev, welcome back to my court room. This time we won’t be so indulgent with you. You’re going to face the whole strictness of the law. Murder is a heavy crime.
***
- … on charges of murdering Sillia Turgenev, wife and mother of their only child, we found the defendant Elson Turgenev guilty!
***
For life.
***
Sound of squeaking bed. Smell of sweat.
***
Forever.
***
For real.
***
“…And I said: “Hello, Satan, I believe it’s time to go”…”
----------------
First published in Thieves Jargon, 9 June 2006
What do they want now?
The man said everything is ready for tomorrow at six.
Just a little patience.
That’s all.
I am now looking around for the cops. I don’t want to spend another night in the station. They become more and more brutal. Last time I saw with my own eyes how they were kicking a pregnant woman. Well she was a criminal, I’m sure about that. I am a criminal – I’m sure about that, too.
The first time I was there I saw a seventy-something year old man being stripped and showered with cold water; a young mother being strip-searched in front of her daughter; a student being beaten to unconsciousness.
But that was in the past – a few years ago.
Now they wouldn’t be accused of the same crimes.
Things they did are no longer considered crimes.
I go along the curb and hide behind the postboxes. The sun is setting now and makes my game of hide and seek incredibly distorted with all the shapes and colors like in a comic book.
‘The man with the harmonica…’
There are the sirens!
Fuck!!!
They won’t see me! They can’t see me from there… can they…?
Ok!
Next time - be more careful!
First time I got caught was because I had a long hair. It was a stupid thing to do but I just went on the street and…
By some habit I was doing the things the way I used to do before.
BEFORE…
Before… that was a good time…
You never heard me SAY THAT!!!
I was away for years and when I got back to my own country things were already different!
Much different!
- Hey, asshole! Get the fuck out of here! – the bartender shouts at me. He obviously doesn’t want any troubles. – I don’t want any troubles!
See…
I’m once again outside. The sun is almost behind the horizon and the night embraces the earth with its dark blue ghostly cobweb.
I see the patrol car on the other side of the street!
Oh, no!
The door opens. The cop gets out fast like a bullet. The other cop, too.
They go inside the bookstore. Thirty seconds later they come out dragging some poor sucker into the car.
No one is paying any attention to all that. People are used to these things.
They know.
Everybody reads papers and watches TV.
They HAVE to know all the new laws.
I jump behind a postbox and pray they won’t see me.
The car leaves with smoking wheels.
- Hey, there’s another one! There’s another one – some lady shouts and points at me.
I run away.
Fast.
Five and a half years ago a group of people made a revolution. They made great changes in my country! None of them wanted to rule. “So noble they are” – people were saying.
They made the new laws and then left all the power to others.
One of the laws says that the president is a president for a year.
One year.
And everybody can be a president.
So the president is elected by a committee that…
The president is chosen by all the names in the phonebook.
By chance.
Now everyone can be a president.
The president makes all the laws!
All the laws are made by the president.
You got the point!
Every president makes new laws!
All the new laws are made by one person and strongly depend on his or her mood… at the moment!
First of my crimes was: I had long hair.
Second one was: I had a beard.
Latest one was: the blue t-shirt I was wearing.
I’m now wearing a vest without sleeves and the tattoo on my shoulder can be seen. I’m near my home – I still have a chance to get home before they get me!
I thought it’s legal now to have a tattoo…
When did they change that again…?!
Why don’t I read papers?!?!?!?!
It was two years ago when I had a phone call from the poll committee. I was elected for president.
I had to sign a declaration (classified) that was saying I will make at least thirty new laws in the next year.
The idea is that people need to know every new law if they don’t want to go to jail. They read papers, watch TV, listen to the radio and… that’s how solid advertising auditory was created!
This is the truth: the people who made the revolution were ad agents who created best market for their clients. If you can’t make people see your ads… you can MAKE them to!
Right?
When I was president my new laws were simply removing of the old laws.
I wasted my time – the next guy came up with even more new laws…
The idea is now a little changed – the poll committee chooses weird people that will make terrible laws and will rule with brutality – that’s how the people will always be interested in last news. Every day and night – sitting in front of their TVs, reading papers, wearing headphones listening to the radio…
There is the entrance!
I’m close!
So close!
Finally I’m home!
O-o-h! I close the door.
Relief!
I go to the kitchen.
Take a glass and put gin and tonic inside. I like gin and tonic. It makes me happy.
There on the table is my new fake passport.
I have to leave! I have to get out of here.
Today I had meeting with the man. He said everything is now ready. He had to take some time to arrange things – and there… I’m going!
At last!
Tomorrow at six. I just have to be patient.
“Mr. President…”
“Yes?” – I say.
“What should we do with these people?” – the adviser asks.
“What people?”
“The medical experts who insisted to meet you! They’re outside - waiting”
“I don’t know. Let them in.”
“But, sir, they’ll be talking about the epidemic.”
“What epidemic?”
“That flu, sir… well it’s not exactly flu… but…”
“Why shouldn’t I see them?”
“Well, sir, we don’t want this news now. Plus you are vaccinated and we all are.”
“But the people…”
“Don’t forget you have so many things to complete! New laws are waiting. You have obligations to the people who made you president! Sir! Do you want people to find out you don’t even know about the epidemic?! Sir?”
That’s…
… all…
… in the past…
… now…
Tomorrow at six. I just have to be patient.
Gin and tonic…
Someone’s knocking on my door.
- POLICE! Open up!
What do they want now?
If you can’t make people see your ads… you can MAKE them to!
Right?
Right.
Just a little patience.
That’s all.
I am now looking around for the cops. I don’t want to spend another night in the station. They become more and more brutal. Last time I saw with my own eyes how they were kicking a pregnant woman. Well she was a criminal, I’m sure about that. I am a criminal – I’m sure about that, too.
The first time I was there I saw a seventy-something year old man being stripped and showered with cold water; a young mother being strip-searched in front of her daughter; a student being beaten to unconsciousness.
But that was in the past – a few years ago.
Now they wouldn’t be accused of the same crimes.
Things they did are no longer considered crimes.
I go along the curb and hide behind the postboxes. The sun is setting now and makes my game of hide and seek incredibly distorted with all the shapes and colors like in a comic book.
‘The man with the harmonica…’
There are the sirens!
Fuck!!!
They won’t see me! They can’t see me from there… can they…?
Ok!
Next time - be more careful!
First time I got caught was because I had a long hair. It was a stupid thing to do but I just went on the street and…
By some habit I was doing the things the way I used to do before.
BEFORE…
Before… that was a good time…
You never heard me SAY THAT!!!
I was away for years and when I got back to my own country things were already different!
Much different!
- Hey, asshole! Get the fuck out of here! – the bartender shouts at me. He obviously doesn’t want any troubles. – I don’t want any troubles!
See…
I’m once again outside. The sun is almost behind the horizon and the night embraces the earth with its dark blue ghostly cobweb.
I see the patrol car on the other side of the street!
Oh, no!
The door opens. The cop gets out fast like a bullet. The other cop, too.
They go inside the bookstore. Thirty seconds later they come out dragging some poor sucker into the car.
No one is paying any attention to all that. People are used to these things.
They know.
Everybody reads papers and watches TV.
They HAVE to know all the new laws.
I jump behind a postbox and pray they won’t see me.
The car leaves with smoking wheels.
- Hey, there’s another one! There’s another one – some lady shouts and points at me.
I run away.
Fast.
Five and a half years ago a group of people made a revolution. They made great changes in my country! None of them wanted to rule. “So noble they are” – people were saying.
They made the new laws and then left all the power to others.
One of the laws says that the president is a president for a year.
One year.
And everybody can be a president.
So the president is elected by a committee that…
The president is chosen by all the names in the phonebook.
By chance.
Now everyone can be a president.
The president makes all the laws!
All the laws are made by the president.
You got the point!
Every president makes new laws!
All the new laws are made by one person and strongly depend on his or her mood… at the moment!
First of my crimes was: I had long hair.
Second one was: I had a beard.
Latest one was: the blue t-shirt I was wearing.
I’m now wearing a vest without sleeves and the tattoo on my shoulder can be seen. I’m near my home – I still have a chance to get home before they get me!
I thought it’s legal now to have a tattoo…
When did they change that again…?!
Why don’t I read papers?!?!?!?!
It was two years ago when I had a phone call from the poll committee. I was elected for president.
I had to sign a declaration (classified) that was saying I will make at least thirty new laws in the next year.
The idea is that people need to know every new law if they don’t want to go to jail. They read papers, watch TV, listen to the radio and… that’s how solid advertising auditory was created!
This is the truth: the people who made the revolution were ad agents who created best market for their clients. If you can’t make people see your ads… you can MAKE them to!
Right?
When I was president my new laws were simply removing of the old laws.
I wasted my time – the next guy came up with even more new laws…
The idea is now a little changed – the poll committee chooses weird people that will make terrible laws and will rule with brutality – that’s how the people will always be interested in last news. Every day and night – sitting in front of their TVs, reading papers, wearing headphones listening to the radio…
There is the entrance!
I’m close!
So close!
Finally I’m home!
O-o-h! I close the door.
Relief!
I go to the kitchen.
Take a glass and put gin and tonic inside. I like gin and tonic. It makes me happy.
There on the table is my new fake passport.
I have to leave! I have to get out of here.
Today I had meeting with the man. He said everything is now ready. He had to take some time to arrange things – and there… I’m going!
At last!
Tomorrow at six. I just have to be patient.
“Mr. President…”
“Yes?” – I say.
“What should we do with these people?” – the adviser asks.
“What people?”
“The medical experts who insisted to meet you! They’re outside - waiting”
“I don’t know. Let them in.”
“But, sir, they’ll be talking about the epidemic.”
“What epidemic?”
“That flu, sir… well it’s not exactly flu… but…”
“Why shouldn’t I see them?”
“Well, sir, we don’t want this news now. Plus you are vaccinated and we all are.”
“But the people…”
“Don’t forget you have so many things to complete! New laws are waiting. You have obligations to the people who made you president! Sir! Do you want people to find out you don’t even know about the epidemic?! Sir?”
That’s…
… all…
… in the past…
… now…
Tomorrow at six. I just have to be patient.
Gin and tonic…
Someone’s knocking on my door.
- POLICE! Open up!
What do they want now?
If you can’t make people see your ads… you can MAKE them to!
Right?
Right.
--------------------
First published in Thieves Jargon, 3 March 2006
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