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Prague by manu_cz
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In November I finally got a flat. One day I find an ad on the net, "Space Age Gargantuan flat to share in Dejvicka." "Kitsch, huge rooms." Cool. "Well-situated." Cool. "Open-House Venue on Thursday. Everyone invited." Cool. I’m there on time. Hey, this is the hugest flat I’ve ever seen in Prague. Some people are seeing the flat, and there is still a long list to come, as usual. The room offered is comparatively small; the desk table is amazing, though. From the window you can see the top of the Sparta Football Stadium. The room is an attic, by the way. I like it. Two guys live here (only two in this palace, I can’t believe it), Ben and Daniel, English and Northamerican. We chat for a while, have a beer and that’s all by now.
Two days later they invite me to have a coffee and a talk. Nice evening. Then they invite me again to go with them next day, Sunday evening, to watch La Traviata at National Theatre. This Sunday is that tricky autumn day when the time officially changes; clocks are put back one hour. I forget it, and I arrive one hour earlier to the theatre. There is a yard beside the ticket office where the kids skate. So I wait there chain-smoking and watching the skaters up and down. I enjoy when they fall, I must admit. Well, Ben and Daniel arrive and I tell them about my mistake, which I soon regret -I wouldn’t give a place in my flat to somebody who can’t tell what time it is. Let’s go to the opera. We are not particularly fond of BelCanto, but the show is amusing, it only costs 1 euro and you are comfortably sitting in a warm, charming place.
We talk about this and that. I am waiting for some remark about the flat, and specially if I’m in or not. In a scene, somebody says, "Here come the Spaniards." And a bunch of bullfighters get in the scene, singing and dancing. I look sharply at it, touch my slightly bearded cheek and think, "Is this a signal? Am I in?" But they are smart subtle guys, so they wait till the climax; in the last scene, the tragic one when everyone dies on stage, they finally say, "Ok. You’re in."
Next night, I’m sitting on the floor of my residence hall drinking and playing chess and poker with my neighbours. Actually it’s a goodbye, so I’ve bought a couple of bottles. I’m not an expert on drinks; I have picked up at random: a cherry vodka liquor, because the color was flashy, and a Czech liquor, because in the label there was a picture of a German Kaiser with a big funny moustache. Very kitsch. Some prefer the red vodka, some others the Czech stuff, but everyone agrees that the picture of the Kaiser is awesome. Anyway, what I wanted to tell is that this night I receive a message. "Oh, they are my new flatmates." I read. "There is this cool cute smart girl we told you about. She only needs a small space to sleep every now and then. Do you mind if she sleeps in the closet?" In the closet. Strange. But I don’t mind. It’s fine.
"What do they tell you? About your moving?" Sandra asks me.
"No. It’s about a girl who wants to sleep in our closet."
"Sleep? In the closet!?"
"Yes."
"In the closet!?"
"Yes."
Suscribe