Across from the ACTION exit on rue de la Hell sat a beggar. He radiated pure misery, huddled as he sat there with 15 degrees in the open air a thick blanket over his knees. Deeply ensconced in a Russian military jacket full of holes from getting caught behind the barbed wire of the trenches, with a high collar. A worn woolen hat reaching far over his ears as if he had just arrived on the last train from the Gulag archipelago. On a large cardboard sign was written in shaky cocks’ feet; I’m very hungry! # Me too I shouted at once. If only you knew what I was hungry for. Affection, love, attention, sex, a Mercedes-Benz every other week. You can’t think of anything else that I crave. My hunger simply cannot be satisfied. Just like those of my fellow citizens. The beggar looked at me with wide eyes. He appeared to speak and understand only Hungarian. With hands and feet I tried to make it clear to him that he was in the wrong place for ACTION. That they only sell cheap Chinese junk there. They have the plastic cutlery, but no healthy food. I should know, because I go there almost daily. Which now makes my interior look like a Chinese giveaway. I tried to explain to him that he would be better off sitting fifty meters away next to the entrance of the supermarket COOP. That there was a better chance of getting a bag of ripple chips. And I remember from the old days that a bag of potato chips could last a whole day. Those were good times. The home I was kicked out of gave me 30 guilders as household money. Golden times, because love was still free. The women who adored me were there for the taking. I was just too lazy to bend over. Which I only regret now. Giving me the idea that I better start a new hashtag/ # ME NEITHER!
LUDO
