Last week after attending together a performance I went with three of my friends (girls) to a cafe* for a little chit-chat. (*false name, they sold beer, too:-)) I had some hours there, when I exactly felt as if we were girly-soap-oper heroines. Even the ornament was the same, like eg. in Friends; a friendly cafe with mediterranean colours, small tables, foolish porcelain teacups and a half-crazy, forgetful waitress with rasta hair and Doc Martens, combined with a laced pinafore, who couldnt help -unbeknownst- chopping in our private conversation all the time. If there were a camcorder, we could have performed a totally use- and helpful pilot episode for any channel which deal with this kind of series. Eg. its quite funny when your chainsmoker actress friend says "Im dating a boy, but its not public yet...eer exactly he is XY you saw in Merchant of Venice, you must remember" and 2 minutes later you see the waitress on the phone saying "guess what, XY's new girlfriend is drinking here, but its a secret, in my cafe, dont tell to anyone, especially not to Gaby" (meaning "call Gaby immediately"). Now Chainsmoker Actress must boot out her ex, who is also an actor, and the New Secret Actor must boot out his lover being on the not-public-yet level for more than 6 months. You see, I dont need read gossip-magazines. I dont know Hollywood stars personally, so by their labyrinth of connections I am untouched. BUT we have our privat hollywood here, a smaller one with smaller stars, but with the same big complex labyrinth! For this very reason its dead comic when Chainsmoker Actress with a dramatic face states how hard it is to boot out someone, even if the connection is only on the not-public-yet level, which, for a normal earthborn means everything but connection. So, 'one needs strength to close something, and boot out a man' she said convincingly (since shes an actress she can). 'Its also not easy to accept that you are left'-- said my other friend, the literary translator (vodka drinker otherwise) sadly, 'cause her boyfriend vanished in the air some weeks ago. 'You have to be strong enough just to keep someone by your side, I tell you'-- I told them. 'You dont know how difficult is to gain someone - chopped in the Unknown Rasta Waitress -when you are alone'. This damned social life and contactmaking, accordingly, has no a simply aspect. After the next round we giggling called back specific examples, when one of us (now including Rasta Unknown Waitress, too) wanted to boot out/keep on/let go/gain someone. At a distance of time your late unhappiness may seem ridiculous. What a deep sadness and bitterness leads someone (more exactly Me) to burn loveletters in the metal pasta-strainer in the middle of the kitchen table, listening to Nirvana on full volume and swilling cheap wine? Or to cut in two photos sitting on the floor in the livingroom? To affix his photo on the darts board and try to hit it? Hmmm? And what if one morning in the good old times the University Student Viperlemonade finds the Entrant Chainsmoker Actress (then room-mate) kneeling in the closet near the waste-paper basket, trying to rummage out and glue the split photos with an agonized face, murmuring "that photographes are apparently guiltless...". The only thing we all (including Unknown Rasta Waitress) agreed that you must be extremly determided, brave and strong if you want to burn love letters. Look, I am married now, and what else can be funnier than sharing a flat during university years with an entrand chainsmoker actress and an apprentice literary translator, if not a marriage with a half-crazy, wonderful motorbiker boy, but I still regret burning those beautiful love letters. That boy was a genius, a master of words, king of loveletters, and nothing can change it, not even the fact that both we are married now, and happy. For that matter, love letters went out of fashion. We agreed not to burn love letters in the future!!!!!
