we met at the busstop
I don't know why but people are always starting conversations with me in public. I mean total strangers, they sense something vacant about me and in no time at all they.re telling me their whole life story. Like there was this guy in Milan once, while I was waiting for the airport bus. And I don't know how but we got chatting and it turned out he was on the same flight as me back to Amsterdam that evening.
So, he was chatting away, and to be honest I.m never really in mood of these easily gained friendships. That.s what I like about travelling is the sense of suspension between two points, where one can reflect in perfect solitude. No one can reach you for a change. But I could see wasn't of the same sensibility.
So while he was forging ahead with the conversation I was looking him up and down to see what I have I got here. And he was a big thick-set kind of guy, brownish hair like mine, base-ball cap, but what I kept noticing the most, what really jumped out at me was his mouth, he had this large and fleshy pair of lips, and they never quite covered his teeth but they were always slightly moist with saliva, and twitching nervously impatient kind of way. And the English he spoke had a strong American accent. But all the time while he talked I couldn't help just focusing on the mouth. It was almost as if it had a life of its own.
So when we got on the bus I took a seat a few rows behind him to try and put some distance between us. But pretty soon he.d turned and continued our conversation over the back of his chair and then, when that became uncomfortable for him, he shifted to take the seat across the aisle from me. And we were talking about Holland and Italy and he was an Italian guy apparently, living in Haarlem now and working in some anti-virus software company or something. But he was telling me that he.d been living in Haarlem for two years now, but he still had only one friend there. And then he was also saying things about Amsterdam, he said that he.d seen things there which he.d never seen anywhere else in the world and then he shook his head in a slightly angry sort of way as if trying to dispel some unattractive image from his mind. And I was looking at him out of the corner of my eye and thinking, .Ok, you.re a very nice well-meaning guy, but also a little bit narrow-minded as well..
And then when we got to the airport he waited for me outside the bus and we went and checked in together. Then at the security gate I had a problem. My Swiss Army knife was detected in my hand luggage and, because of a recent increase in security measures, I had to take it back to the check-in counter where it is put in a big white envelope and thrown in the hold with the rest of the luggage. But I was grateful for this hitch because it allowed me to be separated from this guy.
And then we touched down in Amsterdam quite late in the evening and I was standing waiting for my luggage at the conveyor belt and I heard my name being called out. So I turned to see who it was thinking, .Maybe its a friend of mine?. And it was this guy again. And he was going on about- If we hurry we could still get the 12 o.clock train to Amsterdam Central. He didn't want to miss this one because then he.d miss the last connecting train to Haarlem and then Ooh, God, he.d have sleep in the station or a hotel or, you know, a taxi.s too expensive. But I couldn't get involved in his dilemma because I was waiting for my luggage and I still had to get my Swiss Army knife. So I told him, .I don't want him to miss his train so best you go on without me, because otherwise you.ll be in a fix. So he agreed with me, he was in a bit of a state and lips were twitching as usual, but before going he said, .You know, maybe you should give him my phone number and email address so that next time I.m in Amsterdam we could meet for a drink or a coffee or something. I thought, .That.s the last thing I want to do,. but I didn't want to seem rude so I found an old receipt in my pocket and scribbled my details on the back of it. And then he hurried off to his train and I got my luggage and my knife and made my own way to the platform.
And as I came on the platform I saw him and tried to avoid him but he caught sight of me and came rushing over. And a little but out of breath he asked me if I had a ticket for the train and I said, .Yes, I.ve got a ticket, of course.. He said he couldn't understand how to use the ticket machine and so he hadn't bothered to get one but hopefully seeing as it was late at night there wouldn't be any conductors on the train.
And so we took our seats and just as the train was pulling out of the station he turned to look over his shoulder and said, .Oh shit, here she comes.. And it was the conductor. So he jumps up and grabs his bag and he says goodbye to me and then he disappeared down the aisle and into the next carriage. And that was the last I saw of him.
At least for some time anyway. A few weeks later I was in my studio painting and the phone rang. It was him again. And he says that he was going to be in town the next day and maybe we could meet up for a drink. And to be honest that was the last thing I wanted to do, I mean, we had nothing in common and I could just hear his sloppy drawling voice but I couldn't for the life of me think of an excuse which wasn't pathetic or rude and so I said, I hated myself but I said, .Lets meet at de Jaren because its convenient for me and we can always find a table there.
And he arrived there looking just as I remembered him from before, but this time without his luggage or the baseball cap, but still with these quivering lips. And as I watched him scanning the sea of tables and faces looking for me and it occurred to me that he looked like a hunter in the forest, busy tracking a bear or a moose or something. And his lips were his acting as his antennae, it was almost as if they had some sort of built in tracking mechanism.
So he tracked me down and we had a few beers and chatted about this and that. And after a while I got bored and suggested we try another place, a new bar called Panama which had opened up near the islands. It had started snowing outside so I called a taxi, and as we were nearing the bar, Panama, I spontaneously suggested that, we have a look at a new bridge which was being built connecting Java Island with the mainland. I had been watching this bridge for a while because it had an interesting design feature. It joins the mainland via a gateway which had been blasted through a huge old red-brick building which stands next to the water.
So we found a gap in the fence and I led him through this construction site and there was raw concrete everywhere and a lot of work still needed to be done. But I led him through the gateway in the building onto the bridge to see the view. And as we were going through the building I made a joke by picking up a metal pole and walking with it in a jaunty fashion like a gentleman out for a stroll. And he laughed and said what a funny guy I was. And then we came out on the bridge and we stood there against the railings, and it was really something, the snow was swirling and the wind was howling, it was beautiful. But he was spoiling it, he was still laughing at my joke and telling me what a funny guy I was, but it wasn't funny any more, and his laughter was forced. I tried to smile but the muscles in my neck became tense. And then some saliva slips out of the corner of his mouth and he tried to slurp it back in again, but somehow the combined slurping and forced laughter caused him to choke. And then something in me snapped, I couldn't take it any more. And in one movement I stood backwards out of his view and swung my metal walking stick really hard against the back of his head. And he just plummeted straight over the railings, he was already leaning on the railing and the blow sent him straight over and down into the water below. I couldn't believe it, I was stunned, it was a completely instinctive motion, I hadn't given myself a second to think about it and he was gone. So I thought, .Oh my God, I.ve probably killed someone, I have to get out of here..
So I threw my metal walking stick after him and got out of there, walked for about 10 minutes until I got to a bus stop. After about half an hour I was able to catch a bus home to my apartment. It was a couple of weeks before I could get a decent night.s sleep again.
I don't know why but people are always starting conversations with me in public. I mean total strangers, they sense something vacant about me and in no time at all they.re telling me their whole life story. Like there was this guy in Milan once, while I was waiting for the airport bus. And I don't know how but we got chatting and it turned out he was on the same flight as me back to Amsterdam that evening.
So, he was chatting away, and to be honest I.m never really in mood of these easily gained friendships. That.s what I like about travelling is the sense of suspension between two points, where one can reflect in perfect solitude. No one can reach you for a change. But I could see wasn't of the same sensibility.
So while he was forging ahead with the conversation I was looking him up and down to see what I have I got here. And he was a big thick-set kind of guy, brownish hair like mine, base-ball cap, but what I kept noticing the most, what really jumped out at me was his mouth, he had this large and fleshy pair of lips, and they never quite covered his teeth but they were always slightly moist with saliva, and twitching nervously impatient kind of way. And the English he spoke had a strong American accent. But all the time while he talked I couldn't help just focusing on the mouth. It was almost as if it had a life of its own.
So when we got on the bus I took a seat a few rows behind him to try and put some distance between us. But pretty soon he.d turned and continued our conversation over the back of his chair and then, when that became uncomfortable for him, he shifted to take the seat across the aisle from me. And we were talking about Holland and Italy and he was an Italian guy apparently, living in Haarlem now and working in some anti-virus software company or something. But he was telling me that he.d been living in Haarlem for two years now, but he still had only one friend there. And then he was also saying things about Amsterdam, he said that he.d seen things there which he.d never seen anywhere else in the world and then he shook his head in a slightly angry sort of way as if trying to dispel some unattractive image from his mind. And I was looking at him out of the corner of my eye and thinking, .Ok, you.re a very nice well-meaning guy, but also a little bit narrow-minded as well..
And then when we got to the airport he waited for me outside the bus and we went and checked in together. Then at the security gate I had a problem. My Swiss Army knife was detected in my hand luggage and, because of a recent increase in security measures, I had to take it back to the check-in counter where it is put in a big white envelope and thrown in the hold with the rest of the luggage. But I was grateful for this hitch because it allowed me to be separated from this guy.
And then we touched down in Amsterdam quite late in the evening and I was standing waiting for my luggage at the conveyor belt and I heard my name being called out. So I turned to see who it was thinking, .Maybe its a friend of mine?. And it was this guy again. And he was going on about- If we hurry we could still get the 12 o.clock train to Amsterdam Central. He didn't want to miss this one because then he.d miss the last connecting train to Haarlem and then Ooh, God, he.d have sleep in the station or a hotel or, you know, a taxi.s too expensive. But I couldn't get involved in his dilemma because I was waiting for my luggage and I still had to get my Swiss Army knife. So I told him, .I don't want him to miss his train so best you go on without me, because otherwise you.ll be in a fix. So he agreed with me, he was in a bit of a state and lips were twitching as usual, but before going he said, .You know, maybe you should give him my phone number and email address so that next time I.m in Amsterdam we could meet for a drink or a coffee or something. I thought, .That.s the last thing I want to do,. but I didn't want to seem rude so I found an old receipt in my pocket and scribbled my details on the back of it. And then he hurried off to his train and I got my luggage and my knife and made my own way to the platform.
And as I came on the platform I saw him and tried to avoid him but he caught sight of me and came rushing over. And a little but out of breath he asked me if I had a ticket for the train and I said, .Yes, I.ve got a ticket, of course.. He said he couldn't understand how to use the ticket machine and so he hadn't bothered to get one but hopefully seeing as it was late at night there wouldn't be any conductors on the train.
And so we took our seats and just as the train was pulling out of the station he turned to look over his shoulder and said, .Oh shit, here she comes.. And it was the conductor. So he jumps up and grabs his bag and he says goodbye to me and then he disappeared down the aisle and into the next carriage. And that was the last I saw of him.
At least for some time anyway. A few weeks later I was in my studio painting and the phone rang. It was him again. And he says that he was going to be in town the next day and maybe we could meet up for a drink. And to be honest that was the last thing I wanted to do, I mean, we had nothing in common and I could just hear his sloppy drawling voice but I couldn't for the life of me think of an excuse which wasn't pathetic or rude and so I said, I hated myself but I said, .Lets meet at de Jaren because its convenient for me and we can always find a table there.
And he arrived there looking just as I remembered him from before, but this time without his luggage or the baseball cap, but still with these quivering lips. And as I watched him scanning the sea of tables and faces looking for me and it occurred to me that he looked like a hunter in the forest, busy tracking a bear or a moose or something. And his lips were his acting as his antennae, it was almost as if they had some sort of built in tracking mechanism.
So he tracked me down and we had a few beers and chatted about this and that. And after a while I got bored and suggested we try another place, a new bar called Panama which had opened up near the islands. It had started snowing outside so I called a taxi, and as we were nearing the bar, Panama, I spontaneously suggested that, we have a look at a new bridge which was being built connecting Java Island with the mainland. I had been watching this bridge for a while because it had an interesting design feature. It joins the mainland via a gateway which had been blasted through a huge old red-brick building which stands next to the water.
So we found a gap in the fence and I led him through this construction site and there was raw concrete everywhere and a lot of work still needed to be done. But I led him through the gateway in the building onto the bridge to see the view. And as we were going through the building I made a joke by picking up a metal pole and walking with it in a jaunty fashion like a gentleman out for a stroll. And he laughed and said what a funny guy I was. And then we came out on the bridge and we stood there against the railings, and it was really something, the snow was swirling and the wind was howling, it was beautiful. But he was spoiling it, he was still laughing at my joke and telling me what a funny guy I was, but it wasn't funny any more, and his laughter was forced. I tried to smile but the muscles in my neck became tense. And then some saliva slips out of the corner of his mouth and he tried to slurp it back in again, but somehow the combined slurping and forced laughter caused him to choke. And then something in me snapped, I couldn't take it any more. And in one movement I stood backwards out of his view and swung my metal walking stick really hard against the back of his head. And he just plummeted straight over the railings, he was already leaning on the railing and the blow sent him straight over and down into the water below. I couldn't believe it, I was stunned, it was a completely instinctive motion, I hadn't given myself a second to think about it and he was gone. So I thought, .Oh my God, I.ve probably killed someone, I have to get out of here..
So I threw my metal walking stick after him and got out of there, walked for about 10 minutes until I got to a bus stop. After about half an hour I was able to catch a bus home to my apartment. It was a couple of weeks before I could get a decent night.s sleep again.
