8. The Wiring
Strange day yesterday. The babysitter blew a fuse, I mean that literally. It wasn’t her fault, it is the wiring. So I had to come back earlier than usual, from Maisys, the café up the road, and stand on the chair with the broom, to reach the fuse box.
It was good to have an excuse to leave Maisys anyway. The bearded man had sat down beside me, opened his laptop, and told me he'd predicted Thursday’s stock market crash. 'Do you believe in synchronicity?' he said, as his opening line. Then he told me he'd predicted the crash. He showed me an article he'd posted on his website, just the other day, predicting it. I read his article but I couldn't make head nor tails of it. 'Where's the bit where you predict the stock market falling?' I said, when I'd finished reading. And he pointed to a line that said, 'Remember the crash of 87?'
I had my paper and pens right there on the table; I opened my Isaac Newton book and began to take notes, sensing all the time the bearded man watching me. 'See?' he said, 'this is another one.' And I had to read another of his articles. He talks about put and call options in his articles. I had the uneasy feeling that he might be a genius; that if I just stopped reading about Isaac for a moment, the bearded man could explain the universe to me, in addition to making me a fortune. He has a bracing style. 'I like your style,' I said, 'but I can't understand a word.'
Then I had to go home to the fuse box.
It was good to have an excuse to leave Maisys anyway. The bearded man had sat down beside me, opened his laptop, and told me he'd predicted Thursday’s stock market crash. 'Do you believe in synchronicity?' he said, as his opening line. Then he told me he'd predicted the crash. He showed me an article he'd posted on his website, just the other day, predicting it. I read his article but I couldn't make head nor tails of it. 'Where's the bit where you predict the stock market falling?' I said, when I'd finished reading. And he pointed to a line that said, 'Remember the crash of 87?'
I had my paper and pens right there on the table; I opened my Isaac Newton book and began to take notes, sensing all the time the bearded man watching me. 'See?' he said, 'this is another one.' And I had to read another of his articles. He talks about put and call options in his articles. I had the uneasy feeling that he might be a genius; that if I just stopped reading about Isaac for a moment, the bearded man could explain the universe to me, in addition to making me a fortune. He has a bracing style. 'I like your style,' I said, 'but I can't understand a word.'
Then I had to go home to the fuse box.
2 Comments:
I work at a cafe, and there is a short old man with a pointed goatee and round glasses who gets a large cappucino. He has a habit of asking us how old we think he is, refusing to order until we guess, and leaning in close to any new staff to inform them about the secret conspiracies of Coke and birth control companies. One day my friend served him and he beckoned her forward, and whispered that he had some important information. He said "I will be back in seven minutes," then he came back and shiftily handed her a $5 note with a flash drive wrapped up in it. And on it were a lot of saved websites about the evil conspiracies behind birth control and Coke. My friend thought it was funny and she kept the flash drive. He can't ask for it back I guess or he'll have to admit he gave it to her.
A little man with a pointed beard who makes you guess his age before taking the next step - that part sounds like a fairytale. Jx
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