scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

23.4.13

in which i am an arrogant bitch

Nearly every weekday morning, we take the subway and then the streetcar, and at the station where we transfer is a bakery and a kebap stand and the little street sales that there are. Our streetcar comes directly in front of the kebap stand, and we wait there, and E rollers her little grown-up-sized scooter, and we sing, and she asks questions, and we laugh at each other. There are two men who work in the kebap stand and one of them, the taller one, never looks up - the other has eyebrows like a Muppet and a big nose. We nod good morning, every day when he's there. The kebap stand isn't open for business in the morning and by the time we come home on the way back, if it is the same way, and even then we are only walking on the other side of the tracks, if he is there i don't know; i am wanting to be home, and not hungry, and we don't often speak. But we nod in the morning and say hello if he's outside, unlocking the windows or bringing out the mulleimer.

I wonder what he thinks of me, with my big branded winter jacket, with sometimes a paper cup of coffee. With my home made knit hats, and always just one kid, or maybe a newspaper or an ebook or something, and a smartphone, and i always have the kid on the same days of the week, going the same way at the same time. I feel like knitting is a luxury hobby, typically self-indulgent, costing more than it's worth, stealing time from vague - from what? I should be doing something meaningful, like perfecting microfinance or saving - the rainforest, or starving babies, or canning balcony-grown tomatoes to give to a food bank. I could learn French or Dutch or Portugese and then move somewhere ex-colonial and - help, somehow, and instead i'm here being white and UMC. And the trendy, tech fabric, expensive coat; as much as i apologize for it (it's warm, well designed, it's eco, it's waterproof, all these pockets, it's just so reliable, it's going to last forever) it will always be what it is. And it's the cheapest, most basic smartphone i can find, but of course you don't see that from away. I feel guilty, and lucky, and pay my high Austrian taxes and go easily on about my day.

After the last snowstorm, he was sweeping out the little lager, and he sprinkled all the bread crumbs outside the door for the pigeons, on the snow. Inside my head i instantly forgave him and then, just as instantly, felt like a gigantic asshole.

Labels: people

scrawled @ 15:45

General Public said...2/7/14 07:21 ...
Why did you forgive him, when he did not do anything wrong? You do not make any sense! Giving food to the birds is a very nice thing to do! I can't imagine why you would disapprove of such behavior. I put birdseed out in the birdfeeder in winter and the birds all eat it and it keeps them alive. Do I need to apologize for that? Is it somehow wrong? I don't get it. So much of what you post here is mysterious and rather nonsensical. Also, what does UMC stand for? I don't know that acronym. And you're talking about learning foreign languages - have you forgotten, you already learned German! You are a strange person, my sister... not as strange as mom and dad but still...

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