The day when Žića got the nickname Sledge Hammer confirmed. So far, its cause was only his "trust me, I know what I'm doing" attitude.
This day, he came to explain that with the 2nd quarter being what it was, and what with The Big Report that had to be submitted to sdk or somewhere by the end of july, and that possibly some member enterprisess would take the precautions not to be caught in the nick of the deadline, so they may decide to work during the next week, so... "don't nobody leave town". Sledge Hammer was now complete.
Lidija almost burst into tears, or did so only when he left the building and we left the room. This was the perfect year - 4th of july, the Day of the fighter, and 7th, the Day of uprising (in Serbia, 1941) fell squarely around a weekend, so anyone who had some overtime (and we all did, lots of - there was the yellow book where we wrote our time debits and credits) could take three days off and have two weekends connected - nine days. And she planned a little vacation, maybe the first one in years. And now it's cancelled, sit at home and wait for a call which won't happen - for if we don't feel like working, the rest of stour feels the same, just stronger.
She quit by october, went to be an assistant at petefi. A quieter life, and the professors are just crazy, not insane.
Some time this summer the mayor went to Tisa, to the same old place by the bridge, and the same tavern. Perheps he didn't have those mayorly looks, whatever, he got a dirty glass and lots of attitude from the waiter. This can't stay unavenged, so when he got back to the office, he called Vlastimir to tell him to send someone the next day to shake that tavern out of its pants. He promised to send Dragutin. However, he didn't - didn't tell the poor guy anything, didn't leave a note (Dragutin was dežurni on saturday). For this Dragutin ate a lot of fire and almost lost his job.
Since the two aren't coming anymore, Loba got the stipend to spend a few years in Germany, specializing (for the extension of it he had to change his surname back, as he went to Athos (aka holy mountain, the greek peninsula where each orthodox church has its own exterritorial monastery) and properly added the Hadži- (from hajj), and the Germans thought he was a mujahedeen, with that orhtodox christian prefix, so he changed back to without), and they seem to have fared well there, even Magi took a sabbatical of sorts from her bank job, so the book came down to two letters, nobody to go to kantina with. So we two went to scout it out - it's been a few years, who knows how it's now. And it wasn't bad at all. Somehow the place revived its atmosphere from the fifties-sixties, the terrace was rather full, families with children, and the band played on that stage. True, it wasn't bosa nova, cha-cha-cha and hollywoodlian romance music, it was the current wave of narodnjaci, fuckit, but at least not the heavy sort for smashing glassware and karasevdah (qv), okay, may suffer that much. So two days later we took Go and Nina to dine ćevapčići. And it was good, the girls liked it, and as the current affairs stand, may afford to repeat this next year. Nina even asked „why don't they play bejbe ti nisi tu“ (baybe you aren't here - a rework of Stones' „You're out of time“ by Električni orgazam [yes it means what you think it does]). Yeah, just wait, any day now.
Alongside this I remember she also asked about that song „eyegug yoobay“ [I got you, babe...], though not whether it relates to this.
So, that was on a saturday. Next day we happened to be out on the street in late afternoon, all four of us, and there goes our waiter on a bicycle, going for his night shift. He recognized us and waved. Sure, the tavern regulars.
20-IX-2012 - 20-XI-2025