A Drama of Our Time part 2/4
by Fernando Sorrentino
Translated from the Spanish by Michele Aynesworth
"Uh . . . With the girl . . ."
"What girl, se๑or? What girl are you talking about, se๑or?" The thundrous voice now carried a note of menace.
How do you explain something to someone who doesn't want to understand?
"Uh . . . With the girl on the balcony." My voice was a tiny sliver of glass.
But this didn't move him. On the contrary, he became more enraged:
"Don't bother us, se๑or, please! We're working folks, se๑or!"
An irate click ended the conversation. For a minute there I was speechless. I looked at the telephone and began cursing it between clenched teeth.
Then I spoke harshly of that stupid girl who hadn't taken the trouble to answer the phone herself. Suddenly I decided it was my fault for calling too soon. The man with the booming voice had answered so quickly, the telephone must be within reach, maybe even on his desk. That's why he'd said, "We're working folks."
And what about me? Everybody worked, that wasn't so special. I tried to picture him, giving him awful features: he was fat, florid, perspiring, and potbellied.
This stentorian-voiced fellow had served me an unconditional defeat by telephone. I felt a bit depressed and wanting vengeance.
