Feb 16 2009
The pattern (curious 2)
A-J and me walked from our barfly-bar. It was one ‘o clock after midnight. Everything went closed. A-J walked with me so I could take my bike. We were on a “Breestraat”, when an unknown guy came to us:
J: Hi, may I ask you something? (In Dutch)
A-J/Me: Yes, go ahead.
J: Do you have a cigarette?
A-J: No, but I do have a tobacco.
Me: I do have a cigarette.
A-J: And I also do have a lighter, haha.
J: Thank you. Oh nice.. Where do you come from?
Me: I’m Serbian, but I live here very long. 18 years to be more precise. And you, where do you come from?
Him: I’m from Groningen.
Me: Hmmmm, interesting… (* he looked more like a Greek, Egyptian, or even Italian *)
Him: I just came to live here, a week ago or so, I now live in a squot (* Dutch = kraakpand *)
Me: Nice. I lived in squots too. My first address, when I came to the Netherlands, was Vondelpark, 3 weeks long, then I met someone in squoters disco-club Frankrijk, and I’ve moved in no-time into a squot, they said it was better. :-)
A-J: Frankrijk is gone now. It’s not there anymore.
Me: I didn’t know that.
Him: It might sound strange, but I want to tell you something, somehow I lost my wallet tonight, so I have no money, no cards, nothing at all.
Me: Wait.
Him: What? No listen…
Me: I won’t. You have to listen.
Him: What?
Me: I’ll tell you a story.
Him: But I wanted to tell…
Me: I know what you want to tell. That’s why I have to tell my story first. Just a few weeks ago, I met a lovely Italian woman. She said her bank card was swallowed, blah, blah, blah… And then she asked money, but I gave her gasoline instead (as her car was without gasoline, I saw it), blah, blah, blah… and at the end, she gave me her phone number and said she’d like to go out with me - and then she didn’t appear at all, so when I checked her phone number, the girl on the line said: the person I wanted to speak with - is unknown to her, so (she said) you probably dialed the wrong number… So, you tell me now: why did she have to lie to me, if I already gave her what she wanted?
Him: I’m really glad I met someone like you. My name is: J.
Me: I’m sure you are. Nice to meet you J. My name is Alexander.
Him: What number shall I give you now, the false one or the real one?
Me: Hmmm.. that’s a good one. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t want any numbers from you, just tell me now: what can I do for you.. what do you want?
Him: Just a few Euro for a pack of cigarettes.
Me: Everything is closed. You can’t buy cigarettes anywhere now… I tell you what, I’ll give you a full pack of cigarettes, just bought them. (* I gave him my full pack of cigarettes, kept a pack of tobacco for myself *).
Him: Ooooh, you’re so great. Perhaps we can now go to the K. bar.
Me: I know I am great, but no, we can’t go to the K bar. Everything is closed, I said.
A-J: Yes, on Sundays everything here is closed, after one ‘o clock..
Him: But not in Groningen.
Me: This is not Groningen, you’re in Beverwijk now.
Him: Man, I had 4 chicks tonight.
Me: Nice score. Good for you. For me is even one too much.
A-J: Hahaha.
Him: Where do you live?
Me: On a walk distance. We go over there, I have to pick up my bike.
Him: Where do you live exactly?
Me: (I told him my exact address), and now, go ahead, do your best… but why do you want to know the address, is - on a walk distance - not good enough?!
Him: What’s on a walk distance?
Me: My home, and a whole fu*kin’ Beverwijk is on a walk distance, even Heemskerk.
A-J: Hahaha, Uitgeest too, if you’re drunk enough.
Me: Exactly.
Him: I live over there (*street name*), shall we go to my place to have some fun?
Me: No. I have to pick up my bike and go home. You can walk along towards my bike if you wish.
A-J: I go in the same direction, let’s walk.
Me: (at my bike) J. listen, over there is our barfly-bar, A-J and me are there often, perhaps you should come there sometime too, so we have a drink.. Alright?!
A-J: Yes, please.. do!
Him: I will definetly come and have a drink with you guys.
Me: Good… well, eugh.. ‘toedeloedokie’, I have to go to sleep now. Nightz guys.
That’s where I left it.
I did however send an e-mail to A-J tonight, when I came back home.. to ask him if everything went well. Back at home I became suspicious and of course.. >>>>>>>>> curious.
Barfly
On the picture bellow, my barfly sister Mara with her boyfriend. I took this picture 3 days ago. A-J was not with us that night. He was however with us on a Halloween party (picture top-above)
 |
| My sister Mara and her boyfriend. |
Oh, one more thing: my pubs friend H. gave me a phone call yesterday afternoon. He said he’s got robbed last night. He said he could see (after he got hit from behind and laid at the ground) a tall “blank” guy took his bag and run away… That’s where I live. A “beauty of ugliness” city. As ugly and beautiful as Iggy Pop. Once you land in this city, there is no escape possible anymore. The gravity force is just too high.
At certain point you even don’t want to escape… except perhaps for a holiday. And that’s what I need right now… long one.
All in all, is this a pattern?
Is our beautiful/ugly city suddenly being invaded by thieves?
How the hell should I know.
Watch out anyway!
————–
Update February 16, 2009. 13:43 pm: A-J sent me an e-mail this morning, saying that he visited J’s place for an hour or so. He had a drink with this guy and then went home. He also said J. pretends to be a pickup artist. Well, good for him, eughmm… I just hope his opening lines are not as bad with girls, as the way he approached us.
