04/11/2021
Stanze
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Stanze
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Banquet of the elderly
Actually, Noel's too young for the old folks' banquet. I don't know how he got in. Anyway, he sat down at the side of the recently widowed Marie. He greeted her by saying, "Bonjour, guess what my name is. Little hint: everyone likes me." Marie looked confused. She couldn't even imagine that all people, liked such a greasy guy. His hair was still from the 50s, when pomade was in high demand. All right, maybe from early Yé-Yé, too. (That sounds like the Pleistocene, but means the early 60s. Note from the totally uninvolved scribe) Noël also smelled like he came from early Yé-Yé, cloying, greasy, and garlicky. "My name is Noël!" added Noël with a laugh. (Noël is the French word for Christmas.)
Marie didn't think it was so totally funny. She wasn't in the mood for jokes anyway. She was only 79, but had nevertheless been taken to the old folks' banquet for some time, since her recently deceased husband had been 10 years older than she.
Noël had to have bribed the bus driver. Noël worked at the slaughterhouse. His ex-wife had bought him a small house for the divorce. That's how happy she was to be rid of him. Noel did other jobs to supplement his meager salary. In the summer he poisoned the crows and got a bounty of €2 per crow. However, he did it not only for the money, but also for his pleasure.
Despite Marie's monosyllables and her defensive attitude, Noël did not leave the sprightly lady's side. Perhaps he had made a wager that he would get her around. I don't know, but I could imagine it with him. When it came to the apéritif, Noël practiced Marie something in her glass. At first Marie got all funny and eventually she got dizzy. Noël offered to take her home. Marie could barely speak and just nodded. She could not remember the rest of the evening later.
In the morning, Marie's skull throbbed. She was horrified to discover that she was lying in her bed completely naked. Alone, after all. As she pulled her arm out from under the covers, a waft of disgusting odor came with it. Bah, the perfume that greasy Noël had been wearing. What had happened, anyway. Marie stood up, examined the sheets, and blanched. Everything pointed to the fact that she had had sex with this Noël. Yet she was Catholic and even in marriage, nothing much had happened for years. The guy was a lot younger than her, but in her lucid state she wouldn't touch someone like that with a pair of pliers. Marie took a headache pill and took a very long shower. When she was dressed and inspected her wallet, she found that he had taken money. What a bastard. He knew full well she wouldn't turn him in. And indeed she didn't.
(I had to wash out the trash can I threw the paper towel with Eau du Séducteur into twice to get the stench out of the room. It also reminds me a lot of Mortal Skin, only without the fumes)
Marie didn't think it was so totally funny. She wasn't in the mood for jokes anyway. She was only 79, but had nevertheless been taken to the old folks' banquet for some time, since her recently deceased husband had been 10 years older than she.
Noël had to have bribed the bus driver. Noël worked at the slaughterhouse. His ex-wife had bought him a small house for the divorce. That's how happy she was to be rid of him. Noel did other jobs to supplement his meager salary. In the summer he poisoned the crows and got a bounty of €2 per crow. However, he did it not only for the money, but also for his pleasure.
Despite Marie's monosyllables and her defensive attitude, Noël did not leave the sprightly lady's side. Perhaps he had made a wager that he would get her around. I don't know, but I could imagine it with him. When it came to the apéritif, Noël practiced Marie something in her glass. At first Marie got all funny and eventually she got dizzy. Noël offered to take her home. Marie could barely speak and just nodded. She could not remember the rest of the evening later.
In the morning, Marie's skull throbbed. She was horrified to discover that she was lying in her bed completely naked. Alone, after all. As she pulled her arm out from under the covers, a waft of disgusting odor came with it. Bah, the perfume that greasy Noël had been wearing. What had happened, anyway. Marie stood up, examined the sheets, and blanched. Everything pointed to the fact that she had had sex with this Noël. Yet she was Catholic and even in marriage, nothing much had happened for years. The guy was a lot younger than her, but in her lucid state she wouldn't touch someone like that with a pair of pliers. Marie took a headache pill and took a very long shower. When she was dressed and inspected her wallet, she found that he had taken money. What a bastard. He knew full well she wouldn't turn him in. And indeed she didn't.
(I had to wash out the trash can I threw the paper towel with Eau du Séducteur into twice to get the stench out of the room. It also reminds me a lot of Mortal Skin, only without the fumes)
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