Jelikož necestujeme, tak blog prostě stagnuje. Dělat z toho běžný (každodenní) blog se mi nechce (moc času), ale stejně tak mi blogování trošku chybí. Počítám, že se zase někdy někam podívám a budu pokračovat v popisování nových míst a tak to tady nechci úplně zavřít. Takže než k tomu dojde tak jeden kratší literární útvar, který jsem nedávno napsal (v angličtině) pro místní "expat" časopis v Budapešti. Slo o soutěž, zadáním bylo "Váš pokoj 404 v Budapešti" a povídka byla objemově omezena na 5000 znaků, do kterejch sem se já starej kecal sotva vešel. Soutěž sem nevyhrál (tuším proč:), ale napadlo mě publikovat text aspoň tady :) Enjoy.
_________________
_________________
God, I have no idea what's he up to. I was sure he was gonna move the rook. He should've moved the rook. Why didn't he move the rook? Or at least the frigging knight that’s worse than a frost in your shoes. I don't see him coming again. I take another sip of the wine. It's warm and as the bottle is half empty the taste is slightly different, worse, whether that's possible or not. It tastes familiar though.
Zoltán takes his sight of the board and checks the bed. Imre is still sleeping.
“The schmuck is gonna sleep through the whole day again.”
“Let him sleep, he brought the wine, didn't he?”
I always envied this guy’s sleeping ability. Sleeping disorder – or in his case probably better called staying-awake-disorder. He could sleep anytime, anywhere for as long as he wanted.
I move my knight and look out the window as to avoid the consequences of whatever severe attack Zoltán is about to start with his next move. The air is unusually bright, cleaned up by a slight breeze that plays with leaves on the trees across the street.
The doorbell rings. Zoltán who was never very calm knocks the board over as he jumps up from his seat. The doorbell rings again. I give my opponent a reproachful look. Whoever is standing behind that door must now know someone is here. At this moment they’d freeze the frame in the movies to let the narrator give the audience a funny wisecrack.
Zoltán manages only his favourite „Picsába!“, grabs the bottle and raises the elbow high in a funny salute. I guess it’s up to me to deal with the situation somehow.
The first impression this guy standing at the door gives me is a doll. Latex, inanimate, human-like object with factory cut facial expression. Impeccable visage, spotless look, clothes without even a speck of dust.
„Jó napot, greetings gentlemen, on behalf of the Gold Limo company I would like to wish you a very pleasant afternoon and invite you for your dream ride. I am your driver and I am here to escort you to our limousine where the girls are already waiting. Should you not be ready at this very moment don’t worry, I brought some refreshment and I’m ready when you are.“
At that moment the guy lifts up his hands in which he has two bottles. With a brief glance I sense a champagne and some kind of a cognac. The whole speech even deepened the doll impression – it was like this guy had a little device inside and reproduced this speech with a push of a small brass polished button or a little twist of his black bow tie. Now he just smiles showing white teeth and surprisingly no expression.
My mind shifts again – it had spun from calm through excited and worried to bewildered – and now it is settling between amused and cool.
“Szia, I would say you have the wrong room number or more probably the wrong hotel mister. We definitely didn’t order any limo and knowing our friends this definitely isn’t the prank they could afford.”
There’s no need to explain more because the guy already managed to get a closer look at my appearance and the state of the room. There’s no need to explain anything more about us to anyone who’s lived in Budapest for some time. And this guy probably has as finally an expression started to sneak out from behind of his prefabricated doll face. I’m what people call csöves – a bum.
“I see, probably wrong room number as this is the only hotel on this street.”
“I am sure as hell you got the wrong block. This ain’t the “limo” kind of a hotel, if you know what I mean. There’s been a lot of street renaming going on these days and I guess that’s what brought you here.”
“Hmm, well I’ve been a limo driver for so long that I’ve learned to take off my thinking cap whenever I go on a job. Actually contrary to what you might think this little accident has been the first interesting thing that has happened to me this year.“
I’m starting to like the guy, there is something familiar in him. He check’s out the room again.
“No offence gentlemen but judging by your appearance you shouldn’t be able to afford a room even in this hotel.”
“Congratulations, your thinking cap is on again. I must disappoint you, it’s boringly simple – we don’t pay. This room’s not for rent. You see, there’s no running water here and the owner rather doesn’t rent it then has it fixed.”
“No surprise.”
“We just occasionally sneak in through the cargo entrance thanks to ‘sleeping beauty’ back there who used to work here. It’s a good place to play chess and store some stuff.”
The guy smiles again, but this time it’s a human smile.
I check his hands again – there’s a lot of stars on that cognac. And the champagne comes in the magnum bottle. I hear that Zoli regained his senses, there’s probably a lot less wine remaining, and is lining up the chess pieces again.
“Do you play chess mister driver?”
The guy keeps the smile. He slightly turns his head and torso in the elevator direction. Then he stops and just stares through the hallway. I move back and catch Zoli’s look of comprehension. The guy steps in.
“I’m Laci.”
And he closes the door.
