Jesus, these suitcases are terribly heavy! Sweat gushes out from every pore. All the vodka I previously drank is now running from my head where it was to my knees. I’m trying not to kick the bucket on the way until I reach the reception at least.
Finally, the formalities go quickly. We get to our room and I collapse in an armchair like a wet rag, waiting patiently for death to take me. Mission accomplished.
“You look a bit worn out. Why are you panting so hard?”
“I’m not one for physical exercise,” I wheeze, throwing daggers at her with my eyes.
“I’ll make it up to you. I saw a coffee machine in the lobby. Do you want any?”
We take our time to drink our cups of coffee in silence. Too much silence. I feel the air in the room is a bit dense, and I have the impression I’m to blame.
“Don’t look so worried,” I tell her finally. “I’m harmless. I promise I’ll finish my coffee and leave.”
“Don’t be silly,” she answers visibly relieved. “What’s your deal anyway? Tell me before you leave.”
I use as few words as possible to tell her about my last 24 hours.
“Oh, so that’s how it is,” she concludes.
“Exactly. It feels like the bartenders, taxi drivers, and hotel receptionists in this city are all conspiring against me. And above all that, I’m behind on sleep. I might fall asleep here, in the armchair, with the coffee in my hand. Oh, stop looking at me like that! I was joking. Don’t you have a sense of humor?”
“You were not joking.”
“Okay, I was not joking. I was just trying to see your reaction. We could have split the cost of this room, but it’s too late now. I changed my mind.”
“I’m perfectly capable of covering my own room,” she answers irritated.
“So am I. I’m more loaded than you. I can pay for two rooms with my sixty thousand bucks.”
“Uh-huh,” she says with a bored look. “Sixty thousand kicks up your ass. Don’t expect me to believe that.”
“Believe what you want. I don’t have the energy for this.”
“Okay, I believe you. You’re an excentric millionaire who spends his time in airports, trying to hook up with helpless women.”
“Is that what it looks like? That I’m trying to hook up with you?”
“Of course. You follow me, carry my luggage, want to split the costs.”
“Oh no, it’s not like that. It’s nothing like that!”
“Yes, it is,” she says giggling. “Don’t you remember? You told me I was special, and you’ve been flirting with your eyes for over an hour.”
“Me? What a sad joke. Flirting with my eyes?”
“Yes, you. In the airport as well, and while we were outside smoking, but here too. You’re close to jumping me. But I’m warning you,” she adds suddenly with a serious look on her face, “these Don Juan tactics don’t work on me. I’m not the way you think I am.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds. I either look like an idiot, or I met the most paranoid woman in the city.
“Okay. I’m a serial rapist. You caught me. Congratulations!”
Annoyed, I crush my half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray, get up, and walk into the hallway without sparing her another glance. What an idiot. Fuckin’ idiot! Flirting with my eyes, she says.
I wait and wait on the damned elevator. After a while, I stop pressing the button. Anger buzzes in my head like a beetle, but as the buzzing subsides, I start laughing like an idiot, realizing how ridiculous the whole situation is. What would I want with this woman? Am I crazy? It’s not like there aren’t any more rooms in this hotel.
Oh, screw it, and screw this elevator. Where are the stairs? I’ll take the stairs instead.
“Are you over it yet?” She appears by my side. “I can tell you get annoyed easily.” She grabs my arm gently and walks me back to the room. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” she continues in an indifferent tone. “Stop sulking. Truth is, I don’t know anyone in this city, and I’m a bit afraid of situations that involve splitting the costs for a hotel room. We started our friendship on the wrong foot. You’re a bit rude, but I admit your face shows honesty. You don’t look like a luggage thief.”
“Or like a serial rapist,” I answer still irritated.
“That either. So I’ll accept your proposal. We can split the cost.”
“I’m glad,” I say coldly.
“Me too. You can take the half next to the door. There’s a draft coming from there, but I have one condition.”
“Which is?”
She gives me half a smile and points toward the bathroom door.
“Please go take a shower.”
“Why?”
“Because you stink.”
I love it when women are not too direct, so I shrug and turn toward the bathroom.
***
I think it’s around 2 AM.
Trying to feel for the nightstand lamp proves unsuccessful, and I give up, trying to find my way to the bathroom in the dark. I’m half asleep, but if I don’t piss now, something will explode.
My roommate was nice enough to lend me a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I’m trying not to drip on them.
Looking at myself in the mirror, dressed in these silly clothes, I look like a woman with wide shoulders and a bald head. Shit, I’ll have nightmares after this.
Mumbling under my breath, I get back to my side of the bed and fall asleep instantly. An elbow to the chest wakes me up just as fast.
“You can either flush after pissing, or you can flush after pissing. Your choice.”
I choose to flush.
How ridiculous. Of course, I flush after I piss, you cow! I didn’t want to wake you up this time. I did it for you, but that’s fine. I’ll get up every hour to piss and flush noisily. Hope that makes you happy.
I get back in bed and fall asleep again, for maybe five seconds.
“Do you know you fart in your sleep?” she asks out loud while turning from one side to the other.
“That’s extraordinary,” I grumble with my eyes closed. “I had no idea. I’ll try to pay more attention while I’m asleep.”
I feel the bed swaying.
“Yes, please do. And for everything to feel complete, you also talk in your sleep.”
“Okay. Please send me an email with everything you dislike about me. I’ll read it in the morning after I wake up. So later today.”
“You’re an asshole,” she concludes, turning to her left side. The bed squeaks and groans.
“I’m sorry, you angelic and immaculate being. I admit that sometimes I fart in my sleep, and sometimes I might even talk in my sleep. I apologize profusely. Can I go back to sleep now? I paid for half the room and half this squeaky bed. And as a bonus, I also flushed the toilet.”
“You haven’t paid for anything yet,” she replies giggling. “I’ve not seen one penny from you yet, so you’re at my mercy. I can kick you out this second if I want. Wanna see?”
I open my eyes. It’s hard for them to adjust to the darkness in the room. A few seconds later I make out the shape of her back. She’s wearing striped pajamas, but can’t tell exactly what color.”
“So you want me to leave?” I ask half asleep.
“I was joking,” she giggles. “You woke me up when you went to the bathroom, and now I can’t fall back asleep. We can at least make conversation.”
“You want to talk in the middle of the night?”
“Uh-huh. How about that?”
“Oh God, no. I have to make decisions in the morning. I need a clear mind to decide if I want to go to Dubai or Thailand.”
“Dubai? Ha ha… You’re such a liar.”
“Believe what you want. Since you’re already awake, I’ll take advantage and ask you…”
“What?”
“Don’t you have something… strong… to drink in those suitcases of yours?”
“No.”
“I could have sworn you don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t look like the drinking type. You look like a very well-behaved woman.”
“Well-behaved?” she squeals.
“Very. An innocent and well-behaved fifty-year-old.”
I feel her blood starting to boil. The bed starts shaking. A few seconds more, and she will combust.
“Well, buddy, learn that I have a full bottle. It’s intact, sealed, and full of…”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious. It’s a traditional drink from Austria that I bought in Vienna. It’s called Marillenschnaps. It’s apricot brandy.”
“Stick it up your…”
“What did you say?” she screams, half getting out of bed.
“I’m sorry. I have Tourette’s. It escaped my lips.”
“I dare you to say that again,” she threatens out of breath. “Come on, try it you ass!”
“You’re so touchy. You’re forgetting I’m your best friend in this city. The only one actually.”
“Really? If you’re my friend tell me what my name is.”
“I forgot.”
“See how dumb I am? I’m in a strange city, in a strange hotel, in a strange bed, with a stranger who doesn’t even know my name.”
“Yeah, I won’t disagree there.”
“Am I not stupid? Of course I am. I wonder why. Why?”
“Lower your voice. They’re going to kick us out. Why what?”
“Why don’t know you what my name is?”
“Because I don’t know. But you’re a smart woman, so enlighten me. Why don’t I know?”
“Because,” she says sharply, “you’re such a pig that you didn’t even have the sense to ask.”
“You’re right. What’s pissing you off the most is that I said you were fifty.”
“I don’t even care about that, even though, honestly, I’m not fifty. But why does it matter? Age is just a number. Numbers only matter if you want them to matter. What hurts me, is that you didn’t care enough to ask who you’re sharing a bed with. This. This is what pisses me off.”
“Okay, turn toward me. I want to ask you something.”
“I don’t want to see your face. Has anyone ever told you that your face looks like it asks to be punched?”
“More power to you. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that, I would have an easy life.”
“You’re annoying too.”
“You’re contradicting yourself. Not long ago you were saying my face looks honest and not at all like the one of a luggage thief. Anyway, this whole argument happened because I haven’t asked you your name. I’ll ask you.”
“Ask.”
“Is your name Ana?”
“Whaaaat?”
She hops out of bed like a cat and looks at me in surprise.
“How did you know my name was Ana?”
“I guessed.”
“No, you didn’t. You’re lying. Tell me right now how you knew my name was Ana, if not…”
“Okay, okay. But will you be quiet after that and let me sleep?”
“I don’t know yet. We’ll see.”
“Will you let me sleep or not?”
“I will. I promise.”
“Your name is on the luggage tag. Thank you for your attention, Ana. Good night, Ana. Sweet dreams, Ana.”
I don’t get to sleep.
“Listen,” she whispers. “I want to ask you something as well, and then I’ll let you sleep.”
“But you already promised you would. Are you a child? What the fuck? If I keep answering your questions, you’ll just keep asking more. Be fair. Do you have iss…”
“Just one question, and done.”
I get up angrily, turn the light on, and grab my clothes from the armchair. I put them on, put my shoes on, and carefully tie the laces of my boots. It must be very cold outside and could use a hat. I’ll definitely buy one if I find a store selling them at two in the morning.
“What are you doing?” she asks, watching me confused.
“Is it not obvious? I’m leaving.”
“Just like that? At this hour?”
“Two in the morning is just as good of an hour to leave as any other hour. When you want to leave, you leave.”
“Oh, is that a principle of yours? A man thing?”
“Yes, it’s a man thing.”
“Your wife must be very happy to have a man with such principles.”
“Huh?”
“Yes, your wife. You know, that poor woman who waits for you at home, while you try hooking up with chicks in airports. Do you think I haven’t noticed the ring mark on your finger?”
I look at her with pity. I wonder why there are so many people feeling so exhilarated when they say “Oh, life is beautiful! It’s so worth being alive!” It’s not true. Life is absurd and diabolical.
This woman came into my life from the pits of Hell. She’s not a woman. She’s the Devil disguised as one.
I sink into the armchair and light a cigarette, blow the smoke toward the ceiling, and look at it floating quietly. Time moves slowly.
“Come on, ask your question. What did you want to know?”
“I just wanted to know what your name was. That was it.”
“Was this your biggest worry? What my name was?”
“Yes.”
“And how will that help you?”
“It helps.”
“How?”
“I’ll know who you are.”
“But why do I have to know who you are, and why do you have to know who I am? Do you want to marry me?”
“I’m not that stupid.”
“Good, because I don’t want to marry you either.”
“I’m glad we got that out of the way, Mr. X. I was scared because for a moment I really thought you were going to ask me to marry you.”
“Did you really think that? Was that when I was pissing in the middle of the night, or when I was farting in my sleep?”
“You don’t have to be vulgar, okay? Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you’re a man.”
“No, I’m sorry for losing my temper,” I say with a sigh. “I don’t know why I have the impression that I’m married to you. It feels like it. All this shit you’re subjecting me to reminds me of situations that I’ve been through hundreds of times before.”
“So, you’re married after all,” she says with satisfaction. “Gotcha. Admit it.”
“I’m not married, Ana. But I’ve been married several times before.”
“Several times?”
“That’s what I said.”
“What happened to your wives?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“And I don’t really want to hear about it.”
“That’s good, Ana. Do you want to know anything else before I get up and leave this room and your life forever?”
“You still haven’t told me your name.”
My God… How stupid can women be? She sounds like a broken record. What’s your name? What’s your name?
Okay. I’ll try an experiment. If I can make her pull out that bottle of brandy and gift it to me, it means all women are stupid and deserve their fates.
“Okay, Ana. This is how it’s gonna go. You pull out that bottle of brandy, and I’ll tell you my name.”
“Haha. Very funny. Forget it! Hahaha. Have a nice trip!”
Well, I can be wrong sometimes. She’s not that stupid. I step out of the room and call the elevator, which comes up this time.
“Come get this damn bottle,” I hear Ana’s disgusted voice. “Come back here!”
I walk back in victorious, and the door slams behind me. Women are so stupid. Oh, yes. Stupidity is embedded in their genetic code.”
“Took you a while,” I say smiling.
“I wanted to give it to you anyway, but I was trying an experiment.”
“An experiment, you say?”
“Yes. I was telling myself all men have a disgusting character, and they’re all pigs. So, I decided that if I call you back to get the bottle and you don’t return, it would mean you’re the only man who deserves my respect. I’m sorry, buddy. You just failed the test.”
“That’s fine. Fuck the test. You called; I came. Now give me the bottle.”
“Not yet. What’s your name?”
I’ll kill her. No joke!
“My name is Tiberiu,” I say with a sigh.
“Tiberiu what?”
“That’s it. Tiberiu.”
“You think you’re smart?” she growls. “What do you think you’re doing? You only gave me half the information.”
“That means I deserve half the bottle. You can have the rest.”
“What’s the time?” she asks suddenly.
“Who cares?” I say while fighting with the cork. “Oh, it smells good.”
“I care. It’s too early for a drink.”
Will you look at this? Nice. At least she’s not an alcoholic. That matters.
“But I’ll make an exception just this time.”
Fuck!
“Okay, okay,” I say defeated, giving her a glass. “Cheers!”
We toast. Surprisingly, this piss tastes good.
“I wonder what your sister’s gonna say when she gets here and we’ll burp fruit brandy in her face?”
“Not sure what she would say, but my brother-in-law won’t be happy. This was his present. Cheers, Tiberiu, terror of the airports.”
“Thanks, girl,” I say in a good mood. “Cheers to your health. One more glass?”
“Do you want another?” she asks smiling.
“Hmmm, you’re trying to get me drunk. It won’t work. You’ll fall first because women have no tolerance.”
She gives me an unhappy glance, takes the bottle out of my hand, and pours herself a full glass. She sips slowly but watches me in the eye the whole time. That’s a rare type of girl.
Alcohol brings peace back to our room. I don’t want to leave anymore, so I take my clothes back off and get back in bed.
The clock on the wall shows 4:05 AM. I have plenty of time to take another nap.
Ana gets back on her side, unusually quiet. The room is very peaceful, and I fall asleep instantly.
Around 4:20 AM I receive an elbow to the mouth.
At 4:25 she wakes me up with glass-shattering snores. I turn her on her belly to hopefully stop it.
Unfortunately, at 4:30 AM her head is resting on my shoulder, and a hand is touching me between my legs.
I lift both my hands up.
Nope! The one down there is not mine.
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