19.00 PM, Bucharest time (GMT plus 2). Tie, white shirt and a suit and a cameraman already eager to leave. Marriott. Big shiny glowy room filled with stuffy uptight charity people. Instructions: “It’s some big charity event. Worldwide. All of them: save the whales, feed the homeless, fight cancer, take the drugs off the streets, no means no, stop the war, end the abuse, equal rights for women, justice for Nepal, just say no. Some speeches, some awards, some interviews, mingle, socialise, have a drink, go home, file it in the morning.” What a bore! But who’s the youngest and the prettiest in the news room? Me. So I have to.
19.12 PM Blah, blah, blah, save, stop, help, aid, feed, cure… Wake me when it’s over. Microphone is on a tripod so I won’t have to hold it. Tied cameraman with chain so he won’t leave. Sunglasses will hide your closed eyes as you doze off. That’s a trick of the trade.
19.58 PM Applause. What? Who? Whatever… Is it over? Ah, awards time. Retrieve cameraman from lounge and have him shoot. Note to self: shorter chain next time.
20.02 PM Cameraman is happily shooting the final (and only) interview, with one foot outside the door. I am new to Bucharest, I have no life, I plan to stick around to practise my English. Yeah, save the whales, feed the children, cure AIDS… Done yet, sir? The tape’s only got 180 minutes.
20.18 PM Cameraman is well away and happy. Gang from Portugal surrounds me. Bacallao, Porto, Joao Abade, save this, cure that, cheers! Drinks are pouring, who cares about the food? Oh, you’re English? How nice! Cricket, property, migrants, the stock exchange, dreadful weather, rescue this, defend that – oh, those red devils from Liverpool! Peru? Yeah, too bad about those Inca, I love El Condor Pasa, dry in that Atacama Desert, do you still grow coca, got some on you now, save the rainforest, give the land back to the natives, have another Porto, salud!
22.00 PM Yes, maid, you can clean the table. Oh, we’re the last people here? OK, we can get a hint.
22.20 PM Irish Pub. Beer is tasteless, but it helps. Multilingual gang. Two guys are black and call each other “nigger”. Not much conversation besides that. Oh, yes, award for charity. Happy for you! So you’re from Mauritius? Parlez-vous Francais? Sauves les cachalots, nourrissez les clochards – pardon, les sans-abris – libérez Nelson Mandela!Oh, he’s free already? Well, one down, two more left to go, let’s drink to that! Santé!
01.21 AM Yeah, whatever, Romania is shit country! Yes, we love it that way! I’d like to come to your island! One more round on the guy over there! Only 30 and already award winner? Save cancer, feed the whales, stop the homeless, justice for drugs, take the women of our streets, just say yes! Charity stuff. No means what? One more round, boys and girls?
03.08 AM ‘S this you’ hotel? Looks like crap to me, but you look good. So you are from where? What islands are those? Angeline? Angela? Whatever. Turn off the lights, open the mini bar. Watch where you put that hand! Yeah, that’s how it opens… No, don’t stop now. That’a girl…
05.51 AM Keep the change, taxi dude. That’s fine, I live here. I’ll just puke in the bushes and go upstairs. No, you may not come. Yes, I mean it even when I’m drunk!
10.00 AM Hello, newsroom! Don’t ever send me to cover such charity bullshit again in my life! What a total bore! Hell of a way to make me sick! Hardly a story to tell…
3 Comentarii
Filmarilea aste ase cheama labe
You should puplish this shit!
puplish, cu b, evident..
dap… facem colecţie şi le publicăm, să sînt convins că alţii au istorii şi mai tari.