Status: One-shot
Café Nizza
Café Nizza
I'm so fucking frustrated right now. Thought I'd take the Lenovo to Café Nizza because, how can any modern establishment not have WI-Fi, right? Wrong. They don't. There's like twenty wireless networks within range but most are password protected and the few that aren't, for some reason still won't give me Internet access. Fuck my life. Fuck it all to hell.
The cafe is crowded. Finished my latte and should go home and work. But then again, I'm stubborn. I came here to sit and have drinks until 12.30 when Youknowwho's shift ends. “Shift” minus the “f”, makes “shit” and that's exactly what I feel when I think of him but then again, here I sit, across the street from his post, trying to steal glances at him and hoping he would secretly do the same as he did once when I was standing here with my friend, talking about my insomnia. He wasn't just stealing glances, he was standing there outright staring. So I put on a little show, pretending it was for my friend/myself to illustrate how I was falling off my feet from fatigue by swinging from the trunk of a young tree like a hair in a breeze. Ha. I wish I was that light.
Speaking of insomnia, that one set in after my second time with Youknowwho. Since then, I can't seem to fall asleep in my own bed without sleep aid.
My second latte just arrived. That'll be twenty Shekels, almost what I've earned so far today. Holy shit. I'm starting to think I really should go home and work before Shabbat starts. Crap. But now I have another latte to consume slowly, as I always do.
I like Café Nizza, even without Internet. Nice place on the crossroads, decently priced, friendly service in jeans and t-shirt by two young guys one of whom speaks French. And they put hearts on the latte foam. I'm liking my laptop keyboard. Typing real fast even though I'm not used to the device or keyboard/language format. Interesting. I really should go home.
I just called Bezeq to hook me up to wireless. So Bezeq tells me I have to contact some phone service povider to get Internet for my laptop. Okay... It's that little USB device that you buy for a shitload of money and then you have Internet wherever you go, for another monthly shitload of money. Not yet sure if that's worth it. I'm blowing money at the moment. This laptop was 2850 Shekels, decent price but do I have that much? Also my Canon EOS 7D is costing me 2200 in repairs. Crap. Just called the technician to confirm that I do indeed want the repair job. Still three times cheaper than buying a new camera. I still have the 500D but it's not the same. I'm a person of habit. And heavy objects that make me slouch. My dad hates when I slouch, he keeps begging me to straighten up and save myself from old age cripplage. Why did my 7D break? According to the tech, two screws came loose and wreaked havoc inside the entire fucking camera. How!? Did that happen? I never threw or dropped the thing and certainly never heard it rattle or anything to suggest loose components. It just suddenly started to produce error messages and ceased functioning when I was on my way to the Gaza Strip to take pictures of the missile hale.
I should find out when Shabbat starts. I can only work until Shabbat. On the other hand I wanna stay here, but then I cannot work. Fuck my life. For the third time. Magnum Gold. A truck sporting a huge Magnum Gold popsicle just drove by. Yeah well, after that somewhat boring vanilla ice cream last night, I now feel deterred from any more ice cream for a while. When some food or beverage that I used to like, one day tastes bad, I tend to avoid it forever. In some cases, that is healthy, not because it truly is bad, but because it's usually something fattening and I wanna lose weight. I decided to raise my goal to 80 kilos rather than 60. Curves are beautiful, I'm saying this because I believe it. However, curves are not to be confused with fat flaps/rolls. Those are gross. Fucking hell, stop embellishing that shit.
Ah, since I'm not friends with that Ari asshole anymore, I can finally curse freely again. Not that I think cursing is a must, but it just happens to me, I was born with a potty mouth, so sue me. Café Nizza doesn't even have a toilet. They hand you a key and send you to some shadowy backyard where, among ruins, lie two toilet stalls.
An old man just jogged by and I wonder, should someone with long balls wear short shorts? My landlord just walked by. Twice. By my table of all things, as if the easier road wasn't to just stick to the free side of the sidewalk. I do want to talk to him about something but I don't feel like interacting with that asshole. Not only did he force me to get rid of my dog, and consequently end up as Youknowwho's rebound girl, no. That Nakba asshole also distributes the mail to his tenants, but only when or if he remembers. That way I have already lost an order from Amazon, a pair of custom boots and a Canon EX580 speed-light. The latter wasn't only something I really wanted, but also damn expensive. 1500 Shekels. I hate my landlord. I mean, who doesn't, everybody tends to hate those who provide us with something in exchange for money while being in a position to seriously fuck us up the arse for any given reason. Landlords, employers, teachers, those kinds of people.
My employer is GreenPoint Global and I should really be working right now. But in 93 minutes, the asshole, you know who, across the street who hasn't spoken to me in weeks, will close up and leave and I want to watch him leave because that, I guess, is the only thing I ever get to do with him anymore. Oh, a few days ago, I ran into his "ex" and her daughter. That mother-in-law-fuck had a smug smile I wanted to wipe right off. I hate her, because the guy I'm not over, ain't over her. On the other hand, I have her potentially rotten personality to thank for that I nailed her man in the first place. One day he just literally started chatting me up on Facebook and before I knew it I was having my clothes removed by that monkey boy in Ramat Thingus. A year of walking past him into the post office and being greeted by his mischievous smile, finally brought to fruition by (I know her full name but you don't have to). Ha-ha. So even though this affair seems to be over, which saddens me because I've always secretly liked the guy, I don't feel like a total loser. I feel like a sore loser. While it hurts to see him still hanging out with that woman and possibly crawling back to her, I can proudly say: Oh hai, I fucked your guy while you two were not yet completely done, and oh the things he told me about you just before he started throwing clothes across the room to tell me, not you, "I love you". Though I know he probably didn't mean it, it still feels great to be able to gloat like that. I love gloating. Also, now I got dirt on both of them and if he ever pisses me off...
Ah, there I go again, I hate this. I have tremendous memory, so I don't forget, and only ever forgive with great effort because everything stays fresh. I could ruin his chances of getting back with her forever by telling her all the things he said and did during the pity parties I threw him. Problem is - this may be great leverage, but there is no way on earth that he wouldn't find out that I am the snitch if I were to use this intel against their reunion. So using this leverage to completely sever their ties, and then harvest the poor rejected guy with the promise of comfort and love, is out of the question. It will not work. I should stop thinking about it. Why do I always do this? While in love or good friends with someone, I seem to be collecting intel and dirt on them, by way of precaution, in case they betray or disappoint me. But if I already plan my revenge on something that may never happen, am I being a sincere and good friend? Am I not pushing things in the bad direction by prophesying a reason to get back at people? Am I sure my relationship with a person, no matter what its nature, is happy and healthy if I feel I should cover my bases and have leverage on their asses, just in case?
It scares me to face the obvious answer: Fuck, no!
Oh hey, I just discovered how to see well on a laptop screen in sunlight by increasing the display brightness. I hope this makes the battery run out faster so I'll be forced to go home and work. And it's kind of cold in the shade. Sunny seats are all taken. I mean I could probably take a chair and sit in the sun with the laptop on my lap but that would be pushing it and really be a display of pointless mulishness to stay here for no good reason.
Maya - I think it's her - otherwise knows as Lady Bread Roll - are they really the same person? - just stood at the corner croaking into her phone that she was at Café Nizza. Hadar is small, Israel is small, you always run into people you know. One big family. Yay.
But really though, as unhealthy and creepy and psycho as it may be, I like collecting intel on people and fantasizing about how to use it against them. Maybe I should apply for the Mossad, again. Or Shabak. I could be Israel's Nikita, just less hot and more loyal to the organization I work for. On the other hand, Nikita probably also started off with a desire of loyalty. And then they killed her boyfriend. I don't like "Hot Asian chick kicks men in black"-flicks but Nikita is kind of different, most of the time at least. And I like Michael. And Percy. Oh how I love evil schemers and geniuses. I am one myself, though a very unlucky one who mostly shoots herself in the foot rather than having minions shoot others in the face. When will that finally change?
Calling Debbi to ask when Shabbat starts. Around seven she says. Whoa... I dunno if I should trust this intel. I could ask Youknowwho. But then again, I could ask any of the Cafe Nizza guests here without packing up, paying and crossing the street just to ask him that. Way too obvious. Or maybe it isn't. Maybe I just think too much. Maybe my over-thinking things leads me to incorrectly assume that others think just as much and are just as intelligent and see right through my motives when I think I'm concealing the latter with perfectly trivial, normal and predictable behavior. If that is indeed what it is. But when is anything I do, anything I say, ever trivial? I tend to think - and be told - never. But then again, maybe I am merely flattering myself and those who tell me I am never trivial, are just ass-kissers or easily amused. Though I do have reason to believe that I'm like Light Yagami from Death Note: A genius, an exception to the rule, who assumes he is surrounded by people of his intellectual level, and that they can blow his cover at the slightest mistake. But are most people truly that intelligent? Am I really not going through unnecessary trouble when I set up fake Facebook profiles with so much attention not to have anything that could connect "Aaron Krahmer" to me? I feel like giving myself away with the slightest detail. Yeah, Aaron Krahmer is currently linking his way to the ex of Youknowwho. As of yet no contact has been initiated, but I am slowly creeping him into pages and interests they share. And that way, Krahmer will draw their attention and ultimately befriend them to extract as much intel on the situation with the monkey man and his love life as possible.
Am I just watching too much Nikita, 24, Death Note and other black ops shit, or have I really become one myself when I use words such as "extracting" "intel"? I wonder. I would like to be the naive girl I once was, about twenty years ago, but I am only ever naive these days when it gives me a shot at getting hurt, for example by eagerly agreeing to being someone's rebound girl because I actually believe there is hope to screw him into elevating me to the position of love of his life.
Another 62 minutes. Ah fuck it, I'm staying here. And then, when target exits the perimeter, I discretely pack up, pay and go home. Target. Perimeter.
This is so going to Mibba. I started writing this to make myself look busy and have an excuse to be here when I realized I would not manage to establish - establish - an Internet connection and work. But I am positively starting to believe that this drabble is genius. Strictly speaking, it is not a drabble as it exceeds one hundred words. Also, someone here has nice cologne. Or perfume. Or body mist. Or maybe a kind of tobacco. Oh, there comes Lady Bread Roll. I kinda like her. She may be - said to be - mad as a hatter but she seems nice and in lucid moments, actually has a reputation of being intelligent. But isn't insanity often a consequence of being too smart for a progressively dulling world?
Just invited a friend to join me here until I leave at 12.40. If my battery runs out before, I need another cover. Being here just drinking coffee, is unlike me. On the other hand, is this another instance of over-thinking and projecting my own superior intelligence upon others? Would Target really grow suspicious if I were just to sit here and sip one latte after another? He told me himself that he was a simpleton and many things indicate this is true, but even retards have a gut and a gut can produce a gut feeling. On the other hand, he also told me he loved me and that he would love to have coffee with me. The first he said a split second after an orgasm, the latter in between such nights. My only naivety seems to be romance or the unfounded expectation thereof.
Fucking hell, I just glanced over to Perimeter and it's a different guy today. What a waste of time and money. Just shoot me. Shoot me now.
The cafe is crowded. Finished my latte and should go home and work. But then again, I'm stubborn. I came here to sit and have drinks until 12.30 when Youknowwho's shift ends. “Shift” minus the “f”, makes “shit” and that's exactly what I feel when I think of him but then again, here I sit, across the street from his post, trying to steal glances at him and hoping he would secretly do the same as he did once when I was standing here with my friend, talking about my insomnia. He wasn't just stealing glances, he was standing there outright staring. So I put on a little show, pretending it was for my friend/myself to illustrate how I was falling off my feet from fatigue by swinging from the trunk of a young tree like a hair in a breeze. Ha. I wish I was that light.
Speaking of insomnia, that one set in after my second time with Youknowwho. Since then, I can't seem to fall asleep in my own bed without sleep aid.
My second latte just arrived. That'll be twenty Shekels, almost what I've earned so far today. Holy shit. I'm starting to think I really should go home and work before Shabbat starts. Crap. But now I have another latte to consume slowly, as I always do.
I like Café Nizza, even without Internet. Nice place on the crossroads, decently priced, friendly service in jeans and t-shirt by two young guys one of whom speaks French. And they put hearts on the latte foam. I'm liking my laptop keyboard. Typing real fast even though I'm not used to the device or keyboard/language format. Interesting. I really should go home.
I just called Bezeq to hook me up to wireless. So Bezeq tells me I have to contact some phone service povider to get Internet for my laptop. Okay... It's that little USB device that you buy for a shitload of money and then you have Internet wherever you go, for another monthly shitload of money. Not yet sure if that's worth it. I'm blowing money at the moment. This laptop was 2850 Shekels, decent price but do I have that much? Also my Canon EOS 7D is costing me 2200 in repairs. Crap. Just called the technician to confirm that I do indeed want the repair job. Still three times cheaper than buying a new camera. I still have the 500D but it's not the same. I'm a person of habit. And heavy objects that make me slouch. My dad hates when I slouch, he keeps begging me to straighten up and save myself from old age cripplage. Why did my 7D break? According to the tech, two screws came loose and wreaked havoc inside the entire fucking camera. How!? Did that happen? I never threw or dropped the thing and certainly never heard it rattle or anything to suggest loose components. It just suddenly started to produce error messages and ceased functioning when I was on my way to the Gaza Strip to take pictures of the missile hale.
I should find out when Shabbat starts. I can only work until Shabbat. On the other hand I wanna stay here, but then I cannot work. Fuck my life. For the third time. Magnum Gold. A truck sporting a huge Magnum Gold popsicle just drove by. Yeah well, after that somewhat boring vanilla ice cream last night, I now feel deterred from any more ice cream for a while. When some food or beverage that I used to like, one day tastes bad, I tend to avoid it forever. In some cases, that is healthy, not because it truly is bad, but because it's usually something fattening and I wanna lose weight. I decided to raise my goal to 80 kilos rather than 60. Curves are beautiful, I'm saying this because I believe it. However, curves are not to be confused with fat flaps/rolls. Those are gross. Fucking hell, stop embellishing that shit.
Ah, since I'm not friends with that Ari asshole anymore, I can finally curse freely again. Not that I think cursing is a must, but it just happens to me, I was born with a potty mouth, so sue me. Café Nizza doesn't even have a toilet. They hand you a key and send you to some shadowy backyard where, among ruins, lie two toilet stalls.
An old man just jogged by and I wonder, should someone with long balls wear short shorts? My landlord just walked by. Twice. By my table of all things, as if the easier road wasn't to just stick to the free side of the sidewalk. I do want to talk to him about something but I don't feel like interacting with that asshole. Not only did he force me to get rid of my dog, and consequently end up as Youknowwho's rebound girl, no. That Nakba asshole also distributes the mail to his tenants, but only when or if he remembers. That way I have already lost an order from Amazon, a pair of custom boots and a Canon EX580 speed-light. The latter wasn't only something I really wanted, but also damn expensive. 1500 Shekels. I hate my landlord. I mean, who doesn't, everybody tends to hate those who provide us with something in exchange for money while being in a position to seriously fuck us up the arse for any given reason. Landlords, employers, teachers, those kinds of people.
My employer is GreenPoint Global and I should really be working right now. But in 93 minutes, the asshole, you know who, across the street who hasn't spoken to me in weeks, will close up and leave and I want to watch him leave because that, I guess, is the only thing I ever get to do with him anymore. Oh, a few days ago, I ran into his "ex" and her daughter. That mother-in-law-fuck had a smug smile I wanted to wipe right off. I hate her, because the guy I'm not over, ain't over her. On the other hand, I have her potentially rotten personality to thank for that I nailed her man in the first place. One day he just literally started chatting me up on Facebook and before I knew it I was having my clothes removed by that monkey boy in Ramat Thingus. A year of walking past him into the post office and being greeted by his mischievous smile, finally brought to fruition by (I know her full name but you don't have to). Ha-ha. So even though this affair seems to be over, which saddens me because I've always secretly liked the guy, I don't feel like a total loser. I feel like a sore loser. While it hurts to see him still hanging out with that woman and possibly crawling back to her, I can proudly say: Oh hai, I fucked your guy while you two were not yet completely done, and oh the things he told me about you just before he started throwing clothes across the room to tell me, not you, "I love you". Though I know he probably didn't mean it, it still feels great to be able to gloat like that. I love gloating. Also, now I got dirt on both of them and if he ever pisses me off...
Ah, there I go again, I hate this. I have tremendous memory, so I don't forget, and only ever forgive with great effort because everything stays fresh. I could ruin his chances of getting back with her forever by telling her all the things he said and did during the pity parties I threw him. Problem is - this may be great leverage, but there is no way on earth that he wouldn't find out that I am the snitch if I were to use this intel against their reunion. So using this leverage to completely sever their ties, and then harvest the poor rejected guy with the promise of comfort and love, is out of the question. It will not work. I should stop thinking about it. Why do I always do this? While in love or good friends with someone, I seem to be collecting intel and dirt on them, by way of precaution, in case they betray or disappoint me. But if I already plan my revenge on something that may never happen, am I being a sincere and good friend? Am I not pushing things in the bad direction by prophesying a reason to get back at people? Am I sure my relationship with a person, no matter what its nature, is happy and healthy if I feel I should cover my bases and have leverage on their asses, just in case?
It scares me to face the obvious answer: Fuck, no!
Oh hey, I just discovered how to see well on a laptop screen in sunlight by increasing the display brightness. I hope this makes the battery run out faster so I'll be forced to go home and work. And it's kind of cold in the shade. Sunny seats are all taken. I mean I could probably take a chair and sit in the sun with the laptop on my lap but that would be pushing it and really be a display of pointless mulishness to stay here for no good reason.
Maya - I think it's her - otherwise knows as Lady Bread Roll - are they really the same person? - just stood at the corner croaking into her phone that she was at Café Nizza. Hadar is small, Israel is small, you always run into people you know. One big family. Yay.
But really though, as unhealthy and creepy and psycho as it may be, I like collecting intel on people and fantasizing about how to use it against them. Maybe I should apply for the Mossad, again. Or Shabak. I could be Israel's Nikita, just less hot and more loyal to the organization I work for. On the other hand, Nikita probably also started off with a desire of loyalty. And then they killed her boyfriend. I don't like "Hot Asian chick kicks men in black"-flicks but Nikita is kind of different, most of the time at least. And I like Michael. And Percy. Oh how I love evil schemers and geniuses. I am one myself, though a very unlucky one who mostly shoots herself in the foot rather than having minions shoot others in the face. When will that finally change?
Calling Debbi to ask when Shabbat starts. Around seven she says. Whoa... I dunno if I should trust this intel. I could ask Youknowwho. But then again, I could ask any of the Cafe Nizza guests here without packing up, paying and crossing the street just to ask him that. Way too obvious. Or maybe it isn't. Maybe I just think too much. Maybe my over-thinking things leads me to incorrectly assume that others think just as much and are just as intelligent and see right through my motives when I think I'm concealing the latter with perfectly trivial, normal and predictable behavior. If that is indeed what it is. But when is anything I do, anything I say, ever trivial? I tend to think - and be told - never. But then again, maybe I am merely flattering myself and those who tell me I am never trivial, are just ass-kissers or easily amused. Though I do have reason to believe that I'm like Light Yagami from Death Note: A genius, an exception to the rule, who assumes he is surrounded by people of his intellectual level, and that they can blow his cover at the slightest mistake. But are most people truly that intelligent? Am I really not going through unnecessary trouble when I set up fake Facebook profiles with so much attention not to have anything that could connect "Aaron Krahmer" to me? I feel like giving myself away with the slightest detail. Yeah, Aaron Krahmer is currently linking his way to the ex of Youknowwho. As of yet no contact has been initiated, but I am slowly creeping him into pages and interests they share. And that way, Krahmer will draw their attention and ultimately befriend them to extract as much intel on the situation with the monkey man and his love life as possible.
Am I just watching too much Nikita, 24, Death Note and other black ops shit, or have I really become one myself when I use words such as "extracting" "intel"? I wonder. I would like to be the naive girl I once was, about twenty years ago, but I am only ever naive these days when it gives me a shot at getting hurt, for example by eagerly agreeing to being someone's rebound girl because I actually believe there is hope to screw him into elevating me to the position of love of his life.
Another 62 minutes. Ah fuck it, I'm staying here. And then, when target exits the perimeter, I discretely pack up, pay and go home. Target. Perimeter.
This is so going to Mibba. I started writing this to make myself look busy and have an excuse to be here when I realized I would not manage to establish - establish - an Internet connection and work. But I am positively starting to believe that this drabble is genius. Strictly speaking, it is not a drabble as it exceeds one hundred words. Also, someone here has nice cologne. Or perfume. Or body mist. Or maybe a kind of tobacco. Oh, there comes Lady Bread Roll. I kinda like her. She may be - said to be - mad as a hatter but she seems nice and in lucid moments, actually has a reputation of being intelligent. But isn't insanity often a consequence of being too smart for a progressively dulling world?
Just invited a friend to join me here until I leave at 12.40. If my battery runs out before, I need another cover. Being here just drinking coffee, is unlike me. On the other hand, is this another instance of over-thinking and projecting my own superior intelligence upon others? Would Target really grow suspicious if I were just to sit here and sip one latte after another? He told me himself that he was a simpleton and many things indicate this is true, but even retards have a gut and a gut can produce a gut feeling. On the other hand, he also told me he loved me and that he would love to have coffee with me. The first he said a split second after an orgasm, the latter in between such nights. My only naivety seems to be romance or the unfounded expectation thereof.
Fucking hell, I just glanced over to Perimeter and it's a different guy today. What a waste of time and money. Just shoot me. Shoot me now.