"I'm sorry for swearing! I swear it wasn't intentional! Today I hit my head in a taxi, I confess. But that's not all, you're right. Sometimes I talk to myself without realizing it. Moreover, I read somewhere about a disease that makes you constantly say obscenities, without your will. It's called...
"Tourette's Syndrome," she says, looking at me intently as she throws the book in the trash can. "A disease discovered by a French doctor."
"I could have sworn he was French!" I exclaim disgustedly, then retrieve the book from the trash can and show her the name on the cover. "See? And the author of this book is also French. Do you want to read it? I've finished with it. I mean, I haven't finished it, but I'm finished with it!"
She looks at me and seems to hold back a smile.
"No, thank you, sir! You just said it's full of disgusting stuff."
"Ugh! It's just garbage with lots of sex and violence scenes."
"Then I don't want it," she says, rummaging through her purse. "Throw it back in the trash, sir. I'm sorry you suffer from Tourette's syndrome," she adds, closing her purse. She shows me a cigarette. "What do you say? Will you watch my luggage for two minutes?"
I think she's a bit foolish. She jumps to conclusions too quickly.
"But I don't suffer from any syndrome," I say irritably. "Did I say that? No! I just said that 'I read somewhere' about such a disease."
"Of course!" she quickly confirms, nodding. "Well? What do you say? Will you watch my luggage for a bit while I go smoke a cigarette?"
"Maybe I'll look, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll fall asleep... who knows? The truth is, I'm exhausted, and it's very likely that I'll doze off. The only thing that kept me awake until now was that book with perversions."
"Yes, but... Can you..."
"Yes, I know... I know. The cigarette, the luggage! Why don't you leave me a minute to finish my thought? You said you're going to smoke, not go to the bathroom. Why are you in such a hurry? Ah, I guessed it: you're going to the bathroom to smoke. Kill two birds with one stone."
The woman looks at me for a few seconds, then sighs, puts the cigarette back in her purse, and sits back in her seat.
"All right," she says with a sour face. "Forget about the cigarette. What were you saying?"
"Nothing. I was rambling. Look, even sleep has deserted me, so yes, you can go smoke peacefully. I'll watch your luggage. I'll guard them like my life depends on it. I won't move from beside them."
"But you don't have any luggage."
"I don't."
"And you want to watch mine?"
"Not me. You want to. You insist."
"Well, I hadn't noticed that you don't have any luggage. I just noticed now."
I slowly turn my head towards her and blink in amazement.
"Okay. And? What's the connection? So what if I don't have luggage?"
"Nothing!" she quickly says, then falls silent.
She takes out a newspaper and buries her nose in it. I look at her amazed for a few seconds and suddenly understand. I burst out laughing.
"I got it!"
"What's so funny?" she asks.
"I understand what's up with the luggage," I say amused. "The penny just dropped."
"You're a very wise man."
"You thought I wanted to disappear with your suitcases."
"Maybe I thought, maybe I didn't," she says visibly irritated.
I refrain from bursting into laughter. I bite my lip.
"Fine, fine. I'll confess something: I really wanted to run away with them. And now I regret not letting you go smoke your cigarette. I was such a fool. Between you and me, do you at least have something valuable in your suitcases? Come on, tell me straight. I don't like wasting my time. Maybe I should leave you and sit next to someone else."
She starts laughing softly. She has beautiful teeth.
"If you steal them," she says in a mocking tone, "you'll have the disappointment of your life."
"I like how you laugh. I like you. I could sit with you for hours just to listen to you laugh, but I have to go. I also feel like smoking. Can you watch my bags for a couple of minutes until I come back?"
"But I want to smoke too," she protests pitifully. "I've been craving a cigarette long before you sat here."
"Then let's both free ourselves from this burden. I'll help you carry your suitcases outside, and we'll both smoke. This way, the suitcases will be much better guarded. If anyone approaches them, you hold them, and I'll punch them."
"Fine!" she replies, smiling.
Oh, my life! It's freezing outside. I take a drag from my cigarette, shiver, and glance at the woman out of the corner of my eye. I'd say she's a bit older than me, but with some women, you can never be sure.
She's dyed a reddish shade, her lipstick is red, her nails long and red. Clearly.
"You're an extraordinary woman," I say dryly.
She looks at me in surprise, takes a drag from her cigarette, blows the smoke towards me, but says nothing.
I have nothing more to say. This big suitcase has exhausted me and sucked all my energy. I'm starting to understand why she couldn't go out alone with all this stuff. Some people are so stupid that they drag half of their house with them when they go on a trip. It's a vacation, for God's sake!
"So, I'm extraordinary," the woman chirps. "Thank you, but there's no need to compliment me."
"You guessed she was looking at me? That's all I needed. A hunt for skirts at the airport is the last thing I want right now. I know very well that that chapter of my life called 'What if I hit on a girl?' is long closed. I'm not interested in women anymore. In the short term, the only thing I want is a soft bed to sleep in.
I hope she's just teasing me and hasn't set her eyes on me. Oh, no. That would be too sad.
"In the end," she continues without looking at me, "what's the truth? Do you swear because you suffer from Tourette's syndrome, or do you swear because you're simply rude? Come on, tell me. You've made me curious."
"Let's do this: you tell me where you're flying, and I'll answer you afterward."
She sighs and waves her hand in annoyance.
"I'm not flying anywhere. The truth is, I arrived from Vienna over an hour ago. My sister is supposed to come and pick me up with her darling husband. I mean, they were supposed to come. But they have some issues with the car's engine and..."
"That sucks."
"Absolutely! However, they promised me that everything would be sorted out in no more than an hour, so I'm sitting here quietly like a mouse, waiting for them. Meanwhile, I'll have another cigarette, maybe I can trick someone into carrying my heavy suitcase outside."
"Seems fair. If I were a helpless woman, I'd do the same. And now, let me answer you: I curse because I'm rude. Yes. It's a quick way to cool off."
"I suspected as much. Besides, I also cool off sometimes by swearing or at least thinking about it. Anyone does."
"Well, for you it's just a whim, but I really need to curse. Today has been a terribly bad day. And yesterday was the same. And the day before that. For some time now, my days have been completely messed up."
"Welcome to the club," she smiles at me. "I know how it is, buddy. I'm having a terribly hard time too, but I'm doing my best not to show it."
"You seem like a decent and very down-to-earth woman. Probably you are. How old did you say you were? Forty-five?"
"Oh, come on, cut it out," she says coldly. "You know very well I didn't say that."
"But why are you getting so annoyed? I clearly told you I'm rude. So are you forty-five years old?"
"You're downright ill-mannered!" she grumbles. She flicks her cigarette and lights another one, then looks straight at me while twirling a strand of her reddish hair around her finger again and again. "Do I look like a forty-five-year-old woman to you? Is that what you think?"
Look at her! Now she's even being coquettish. Seriously? She's starting to annoy me.
"I don't know what to tell you," I reply, yawning. "I'm too tired to think. Actually, it doesn't matter how old you are. My eyes are glued with tiredness. I'm going to the waiting room right now to find a soft and comfortable chair. It was nice meeting you, I enjoyed it. Look, I'm leaving and leaving you here with all your suitcases. I'm terribly sleepy."
"Only a donkey would do that, but you don't seem like a donkey, so you won't leave me here."
"Don't you understand? I'm telling you again: I'm dying of sleepiness. Not even coffee and cigarettes have any effect anymore. I'm leaving."
"I'm forty-seven years old, and you should be ashamed for making me tell you. Okay?"
"Okay. Besides, I could have sworn you were forty-seven. I said forty-five just to please you, but I know you're at least forty-eight or forty-nine. Fifty is probably the exact age."
I see her choking.
"You're... you're..."
"An idiot, I admit."
"I meant to say rude, but idiot works too!" she says coldly. "Now, as the well-bred rude person that you are, you'll nicely pick up this one-ton suitcase, and I'll take the lighter one. We'll go to the waiting room, and you'll lead me to my spot."
"And then what?"
"Whatever you want. You can leave, you can sleep, you can cut yourself with a blade. Anything!"
I look disheartened at the suitcase. I'm a gentleman, but this suitcase is so heavy...
My companion's mobile phone rings, and after a minute of conversation, I understand that Tourette's syndrome is a contagious thing. Then the woman finishes swearing as abruptly as she started. It's quiet and peaceful in the airport again.
She closes her phone with a grunt, looks at me, and I return her candid gaze.
"So, that one-hour wait won't really be an hour?"
"No!" she says angrily, tapping her phone nervously. "I need a taxi, damn it! I have to find a hotel. It's almost... oh, God, what idiots! Damn idiots! How can they do this to me?"
"Forget it, don't get upset anymore!" I say soothingly.
"But I am upset!"
"What's the point? Be serious! Don't take things so seriously. No one died. You'll find a taxi and a hotel, and tomorrow you'll meet your idiots and that's it. Besides, you'll get rid of me in a few minutes anyway. The taxi drivers in this city don't like me at all, and the hoteliers have already put me on their blacklist, if such a list exists. Tonight, I'll sleep on two chairs in the airport. And tomorrow... I'll hit the road. Actually, I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead."
"What kind of face do I have? Do I have a Dubai face or a Thailand face? Look at me from the side. There, now from the front."
"Will you stop it?" she bursts out nervously. "What's with this nonsense?"
"Well, I was just asking. Anyway, let's take your suitcases to the taxi over there. Oops! Wait a minute..."
"What happened?"
I point across the street to the building. We're looking at the hotel, and the hotel is looking at us.