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Busboy

This week after kindergarten duty and a subsequent visit to the discounter, I schlepped myself to the nearest bus station. A full backpack on my shoulders and a tote in one hand didn’t hinder me to grab Böll’s “Gruppenbild mit Dame” out of a nearby second hand booth while I waited for the bus to arrive. I didn’t have to wait long, entered the bus and carried my stuff to the unoccupied four-seater at the front, which is reserved for the old and invalid, aka me. In case actual old and/or invalid people wanted to occupy one of “their” seats, I only placed the backpack on the one next to me and kept my tote on my lap.

Time for some Böll. I had just started Johnson’s first “Jahrestage“-book two days before but a peek couldn’t hurt. (Me from the future: It did. Johnson was postponed and Böll landed on top of the reading pile. Let’s hope he forgives me for substituting one Gruppe 47 author for another.)

I was just wondering about divorce rates back in the day, after I read the fact that Leni, said Dame in Böll’s title, was only married for three days, when a boy placed himself next to the four-seater and grabbed a nearby bar. I looked up at him and he returned the look. Without words I gestured with my right hand in an inviting fashion to the two seats opposite me like I was an assistant in a game show presenting the price the contestants could win. He wasn’t the gambling type and shook his head, short but polite. I nodded and returned to the book.