Trip to Timişoara.
As we have lowered the curb last summer, it was time now to pave the driveway. I think we made concrete squares, 50cm to the side. To prevent crumbling, dad and I went to the junkyard to get some (s)crap iron for reinforcement. For a small job like this it doesn't make sense to buy new. And we did get what we came for, and it was almost free, it's only that we got dirty, not the clothes, the hands. I was disgusted at the thought of touching the steering with them, but somehow drove the 150m to the slauterhouse's north gate. Dad worked there, all the doormen knew him, and so did this one. To the point where he greeted us with „ey, boss, is this your son or daughter?“. I fired back a „I'm not the bearded woman, I'm her sister“. He spewed more shit, but we just washed our hands and drove off. Of course, by the next day half the factory knew how I looked.
Don't remember whether I passed any exams in the september term, I'd say none.
Around this time the builder's warranty on the new Dom, now rebranded „Dom Mladosti“ (Youth* home) should have expired, which it did, perhaps a month or two later, but even then the ban on smoking in carpeted spaces remained, which meant that if you light one, you're suddenly limited to the space where you were, because it was alternating between carpet and marble every ten meters. Though, nowadays I can't remember where the carpeted spaces were, as it's now marble everywhere except in the big hall, where carpet must be for the accoustics (which is still weird, carries well the amplified sound, but theatrical shows are a no-go, can't understand half the lines). The beer was completely absent, so we didn't feel like going there, c'mon, the whole point of the Dom was the cheap beer, it was just a bit above the cost price. There was no waiter, you just walk to the bar, pay and get a bottle and take it for a walk. The bottle you return or leave it anywhere and the boys pick it up later. This current setup felt somehow sterilized, we weren't at home anymore.
And then a concert of Tomaž Domicelj happened, which we didn't see for some two-three years, let's go. It wasn't in the great hall but some side stage, maybe the extension of the big [one], its rear walls could be folded to extend the space, or the extra space could be used like this. His standard show, one guy with long hair, a poncho of something silky and with a complicated pattern, possibly embroidered, thick glasses and electric guitar, no matter that we know him as one of the accoustic wave of six years ago. Or maybe he did the accustic for the first hour. The highlight of the evening was he proclaimed his eternal love for zrenjaninsko beer (which, truth be told, was not what it used to be, for three years now), said that what he uses for playing the slide, what he dons on his left pinky finger, was made of a neck of an old bottle of zrenjaninsko, the old type with long neck, such as were circulated until early seventies. And then, while on the subject, he pulled out a bottle of it from the guitar case, opened it and took a long swig. Said „no, no, there's still no beer in this house, they got this for me from the hotel, but I was forgiven because I'm here at work while you all came just to have fun“. And our mouths watered.
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* and the old one was also Youth Home but a different youth. We have three words for this: omladina - the young folks, mladost - the youth as a period of life and the youth as a collective name for the young people, and omladinac/omladinka, a member of that population.
28-II-2021 - 31-X-2025