osmoala

It rained today. A hard shower too. It didn't stop after twenty minutes, so I stayed at The King Kong Bar. The street was flooding, the water coming down on the tinroof the sound of a mad man with superpowers and drum sticks. I was talking to Rain. ”We should eat.” Rain, that's her name.

   ”Wait. I think the boss is coming back from his nap”, she said, busy with the bar. There was a happy smirk on her face and I could never decide if it made her look better or worse. The long hair tight in a knot. She'd look like a businesswoman when she needed to, and I bet she had been banging on his door just a few moments before. The manager came out. He looked tired.

   He answered my question, ”Drunk. I'm so drunk today. I had a celebration with friends.”

   He sobered up pretty quick too, maybe when he realized he would be responsible for the bar. Sometimes I wondered whom of them really ran this joint with the grand name 'King Kong Bar' and it was one of the smallest bars ever. Nine chairs facing a bar lit up by dim colours. All empty.

   The rent was 400 dollars a month, and it would run for four more years. Boss was hanging to his elbows with his head stooping like he was trying to read a secret message out of the desk. Rain and I went for dinner at The Kuriosity Kafe. It had just stopped raining.

I was behaving well there for a while and then Ross came and ripped me to bits and pieces. He checked into Thara House and he was full of work. He said:

   ”It's not a question of what I need, it's a question of what I want. People around you will do anything to avoid work because they are lazy. Everybody wants a holiday. You want it, I want it, everybody wants it. But you have to work to get it. People need to work in order to get their holidays. So they work more and more so they can have some time off. But they will never get there – because the more money they make the more money they spend. Do you see what I'm saying? It's a vicious circle.¨ He sniffed at his Bacardi and coke and I finished his sentence: ”I think the majority is always wrong.”

   ”Well, they don't think so.”

   ”Of course. Let's have a walk.”

We crossed the bridge and it was cooler here. It was like back in those days, the beautiful houses painted in green and yellow, the small restaurants in every corner, lovely people with a with a good smile on their faces, a different attitude all together. I was brought back to the 1980s there for a while and I said:

   ”Have you watched this new movie ... Player Number One … it takes you away a little bit, far away, I would say, from this constitutinal, consti, or national, world? What the hell am I talking about here?”

   ”Not much”, said Ross with a grin.

                                         I shall be telling this with a sigh

                                        Somewhere ages and ages hence:

                                      Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

                                            I took the one less traveled by,

                           And that has made all the difference – Robert Frost

                       I'm never more serious than when joking – Robert Frost

I början av november har turistsäsongen knappast kommit igång på allvar. Det vet du när fåglarna och geckorna håller sig gömda bakom trädstammarna och uppe i lövverket utan att säga ett knyst.

   De bidar sin tid. Som försäljarna här på Rambuttri också gör. De vet att deras stund kommer snart.

   Så, det var inte konstigt att ingen av the usual suspects kom fram till dig på gatan eller hoppade fram från ett restaurangbord för att krama om dig och säga, ”Long time no see – how are you?”

   Det fanns ingen Gad här, och ingen Noi heller. Inte Pam. Inte Kita. Ingen här som kunde bekräfta dig som en människa. Jag var helt osynlig och om du så försvann från jordens yta i denna sekund skulle folk runt omkring dig se en rökpuff som eroderade i vinden, och strax skulle de återvända till sina samtal kring konkreta ting. Och checka sina telefoner.

   Det var kanske lika bra.

Sedan kommer min gamle vän Nicolaus gåendes längs Rambuttri. Jag har redan sett Player Number One på flyget hit men jag tvekar inte att korsa hans väg och säger, ”Hello...” Antingen är han verklig eller bara ett påhitt av min jetlaggade hjärna, men när vi tar en kram är han fysisk. Och det han säger är verkligt nog – ”let's have a beer”.