In the state he was in, his talking was more like a ding-dong scream dotted from time to time by the sputter coming from his mouth any time he wanted to be more convincing and more precise. God, you are punishing me again. This is my luck. Wherever I go, at a party, baptize, wedding, there’s always a drunk guy that holds out by all means to reveal all his qualities and secrets, all his well-doing and his kindness in this ungrateful world, that it makes you wander: how could other generations have lived without the kindness of this reward able man and it even seems that this fact could be inconceivable. This is how there is no party for me without this type of annoyance. This fact is kind of sad in its bases. That person had those dreams, wishes that probably could come true. But the only thing he did not have was the power to give up drinking so he could develop his big plans, big dreams, that maybe, half or totally achieved, could have brought the smattering of kindness that he now drops to the human kind. This gave priority to anything else. In this case he could still “grace himself”, but some don’t get to catch this train too.
And just like this, for all the reunion I have „an annoyance” that gets all over my nerves and time with his stories. How come they find me? Why do they take a hold of me memorizing all their silliness, undefended? I can’t understand at all. Could they have that certainty that I would introduce a charitable association, which in 10-15 years will arouse them gratefulness pedestals? I don’t know. But what is for sure is that, when a person like that gets close to me, for me all the fun is over. I can go home in peace, go to sleep, with no other issue. They see in me an unaligned and they hope to turn me into something? Now…the history repeats it self. The guy gets on my nerves, and I stand resigned. The fact that I am a providential can be noticed …
The bus windows are all opened. The wind had stopped and the heat that had chased the citizens away to the stream starts over again. All of these would have been bearable if it weren’t for that guy… Although, the bus was very crowded and most of the passengers were standing on their feet the way of driving of the car man attested that he only “touched” the drink. We were half the way, more than three stations between the villages, and for the way he was driving the bus nobody could cast something at him.
On a chair on my left there was a dressed-up fellow standing, with a start of a baldness, that through his way of being he was holding on to stand out in relief. On a bench from behind there was a family: husband, wife and a child. The rain started again. The rain gets through the opened window and gets the child and the mother wet. The lady gets up and shuts half the window. The guy with the veiled glossary reopens it …
– Not fully shut down …addresses him to the lady.
– Exactly, not at all, says the lady and pushes the window again.
The guy gets up and opens it widely.
– But, Sir, as you can see, it gets us wet!
– I know very well that you like to be wet in other places … he, he, he … the drunk guy answers.
– I think you started to offend the lady, I call him down.