I was just down in the cantina picking up a re-fill on my coffee, when my flaring nostrils were invaded by the brilliant smell of fresh waffles. We have waffles every Friday here, just like in kindergarten. Anyway, I was standing there waiting for the Eminence machine to spit out the foul-tasting excuse of a coffee when one of the sexy co-workers walked in. That’s definitely a perk in this job. Can’t be moody for long when there are beautiful women around you.
Her name, however, is Looks Like a Replacement, Thank God.
She walked in and did that sexy thing with the eyes that girls do when they’re content, half-shut sort of eyeliner advertisement look, and went ‘mmmmmmmmmm’. I smiled right back at her.
"I love it when girls say that when they approach me," I said.
"Does it happen often?" she said without flinching.
"It happens," I concluded.
"That’s life in the Sigge world," she said with an air of mystery.
In Sigge’s world? I cannot rightly comprehend the kind of observations that would amount to such a constellation of ideas. I’ve got a separate world now? Cool. Want to come inside? Nah, I figure you wouldn’t. Married and that. *tsk tsk*
Which reminds me of three SPAM subject lines I received today:
1. If a relaxing moment turns into the right moment, will you be ready?
Yes, I will. Just give me a sec to adjust, all right?
2. Get noticed for your sexy figure
Believe me, I get noticed. But how can I be more noticed by women?
3. How many clicks to get to love?
Double-click the Firefox icon, click the adress line, type in sigg3.net and hit Enter. That’s 3 clicks and 10 chars to get sum love, baby.
Anyway, I wanted to tell you about a special friend of mine. He’s a bit of an oddball living down the street. Does the name Quasimodo ring a bell? In addition, he has got some kind of handicap. I’m not sure whether this is due to a hard life, since he look a bit rough, or if he was born with it. He’s harmless like a child, although he looks like a maniac serial killer rapist. I.e he looks as though he rapes serial killers. Pretty serious.
He’s a loner and begs people for money in a high-pitched voice so that he can buy second-hand radio and cassette combo players. Why? Because they’re going out of production. That’s all the reason he needs. I wonder how many radio players he’s got stacked away at home. I haven’t had the heart to tell him that when I last visited Germany their teenagers were still hanging on to the walkman and the cassettes, meaning production hasn’t ceased at all. This might have changed, though, I haven’t gone there in quite a while. Might just be a fading remnant of the past for all I know.
If you’re a German teenager; do you listen to mp3s, CDs or cassettes? Can you still buy cassettes in the music shops? Use the comment form below.
Vinyl is excluded from the equation, as it’s something of a trend nowadays.
Whatever be the whim of German teenagers, there’s no reason to believe general radio/cassette combo players will be worth an enormous lot in his lifetime. But I suppose it’s great he’s got something to do. I just don’t like him begging. He lives in a service center meaning someone takes care of him, so he shouldn’t have to beg. Not that he’s ever asked me for anything but friendship. When he’s out asking people on the street and I walk past, he just says hello and asks me what I’m up to and such.
Anyway, last night he stopped by my window when I was listening to the radio and having a cigarette. He sometimes knock on my window and we have a chat for a while. It’s amazing the kind of things he says, as if he’s just recalling something he’s been told, like instructions on how to lock his door, or which bus to take to get somewhere, etcetera.
I admit that I use him for research for a coming book (that I started over two years ago), but we also have pleasant chats. And he’s so heartily happy to be my friend. He can stop strangers in the street to tell them that we’re friends.
I know you might think there’s foul play involved, but I’m a pretty good people person. I have been extremely cautious to catch out any scheme if he tried anything. But I persist he is a child. So I had something of a jolt when he told me that I had a special place in his heart yesterday. It’s not just something you say. You say that if you really love someone, right? But I don’t think he understands the social codes at all.
"You know," he said after having talked about him being so happy to have someone to talk to, "you have a special place in my heart."
I almost coughed up my coffee.
"Yes," I said, "we’re pretty good friends." Emphasis on friends.
"You have a special place in here," he pointed to his heart, "just like Prince."
"Yes, Prince who used to live two doors down on my block."
"I don’t think I’ve met him."
I didn’t want to probe it any further. At least I wasn’t alone about special places in his heart. Then he said: "Do you like poodles too?"
And realization dawned.
By the way, did you know that poodles come from Germany all the while regarded as the national dog of France? And that the smallest variety of poodle is called ‘toy variety’? I didn’t. But I don’t think I’d be a toy poodle, just a standard variety. And I wouldn’t be called Prince or something daft like that, no. I’d called like Terminator or Violator or Predator or something.
Nuclear Reactor (or ‘Nookie’)
… anything like that. I think anything with the -tor suffix would do just fine. What would your name be if you’d been a poodle? You don’t have to limit yourself to any particular suffix, and remember there are 3 variants of poodles as well; standard, miniature and toy.
Tonight I’ve been invited to a BBQ at the roof of an old friend’s house. I don’t know if I’ll be going or not. I’ve met him and others from my homestead and all they seem to want to talk about is exactly that homestead or stuff we did when I lived back there. I don’t care much about that place and I don’t live in the old days. I live here and now, and home is where the heart is. And I mean it, it’s not just something I say. And these old mates really need to cut their umbilical cord if they want to grow up and get some real shit done in their lives. But Alas! people refuse to listen to their call in life. Instead they waste it on petty pastimes and idle chat, romanticizing a past in which they were just as useless.
I hope they are reading this.
For the rest of the weekend I will have plenty of coffee and hopefully get some writing done. I’ve got some pretty good ideas written down, so if I can just make myself sit still a little while I’m sure I could put some great literature on the table. In addition, Kornelius tipped me off about two "competitions" I’m going to submit some texts to. I also have to get myself some new bedsheets and a carrying bag for my digital camera. And maybe meet the love of my life, if I can cram it in there. But for now I’m just gonna get this posted and head down for some waffles. Have a nice weekend!