The documentary festival started today. One of the morning sessions left me with a bit of a headache, well I'm not saying that it was bad, instead I liked it, just that my eyes are not adapted to the way it was presented on the big screen with all the flashing and blurring images, it was about someone going blind so this technique is quite understandable, though I don't fancy it at all.
Concha was in the neighbourhood around the same time so I sought her out to kill the gap between sessions, but in fact I was considering giving up and go home instead because the world was still spinning around and I could really use some serious lying down. Still, despite the nausea, I decided to stay because I was really looking forward to the afternoon and evening sessions.
So there I was, standing in line with the ticket in my hand when I saw this incredibly attractive female passing in front of me and "cute" slipped my lips. Now that was something because I normally don't do that, I would say "take a look at that" frivolously.
After I seated myself, I found the empty seat next to me taken by someone, a female, one with curly long hair, and... it was her! What are the chances, what are the chances, mate, right next to me, the incredibly attractive female moments ago!
When the credits started to roll more than 90 percent of the audiences disappeared while the director was open to questions on stage. She remained there, just the two of us in that comfy part of the room, so under the pretext of borrowing a pen I ah officially turned and talked to her, at the same time grooming for my next move. "Excuse me, mademoiselle, allow a burning soul to disturb your peace. The thing is, my lady, that the next one which is about to be shown is Svyato which I heard was worth the trouble. And I've been contemplating over the bold quest whether you would grace my existence by permitting me the privilege of accompanying you in the appreciation of this film, to determine for ourselves whether it was truely as good as I've been told", excited and gleefully I harboured the phrase which was repeated over and over during the whole session.
Then on the way out I finally gathered enough cojones to tap her lightly on the shoulder. She turned and ah, Svyato, Svyato, open air movie, I stammered. "Ah, yes, it's the one at 1930" and then she continued on with her intended course, seemingly undisturbed by nothing, nothing at all. Because nothing came out to change that course. So nothing changed, just one more difficult night and the subsequent torture in the following days till the next opportunity presents itself before my eyes. And round and round and the concentric ruin survives.
Concha was in the neighbourhood around the same time so I sought her out to kill the gap between sessions, but in fact I was considering giving up and go home instead because the world was still spinning around and I could really use some serious lying down. Still, despite the nausea, I decided to stay because I was really looking forward to the afternoon and evening sessions.
So there I was, standing in line with the ticket in my hand when I saw this incredibly attractive female passing in front of me and "cute" slipped my lips. Now that was something because I normally don't do that, I would say "take a look at that" frivolously.
After I seated myself, I found the empty seat next to me taken by someone, a female, one with curly long hair, and... it was her! What are the chances, what are the chances, mate, right next to me, the incredibly attractive female moments ago!
When the credits started to roll more than 90 percent of the audiences disappeared while the director was open to questions on stage. She remained there, just the two of us in that comfy part of the room, so under the pretext of borrowing a pen I ah officially turned and talked to her, at the same time grooming for my next move. "Excuse me, mademoiselle, allow a burning soul to disturb your peace. The thing is, my lady, that the next one which is about to be shown is Svyato which I heard was worth the trouble. And I've been contemplating over the bold quest whether you would grace my existence by permitting me the privilege of accompanying you in the appreciation of this film, to determine for ourselves whether it was truely as good as I've been told", excited and gleefully I harboured the phrase which was repeated over and over during the whole session.
Then on the way out I finally gathered enough cojones to tap her lightly on the shoulder. She turned and ah, Svyato, Svyato, open air movie, I stammered. "Ah, yes, it's the one at 1930" and then she continued on with her intended course, seemingly undisturbed by nothing, nothing at all. Because nothing came out to change that course. So nothing changed, just one more difficult night and the subsequent torture in the following days till the next opportunity presents itself before my eyes. And round and round and the concentric ruin survives.
4 comments:
Ha! Another master's piece. However
more confessions and less regrets would make you less of a tragic hero... And girls love that.
Ouch! I feel your pain. But remember, it's easier to get over rejection than it is to get over having succumbed to fear. It just doesn't seem that way until later.
All right, I confess, I'm a smuggler... This whole case is crammed full of Swiss watches and clocks. I've been a bloody fool.
Indeed Kevin, if you never try you will never know, and not knowing is the most painful kind. It was just as hard as the Tchaikovsky night.
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