Armenia (interlude)

Armenia is a city not on the maps of any guidebooks. Except as a transit point. At the busterminal there´s a little old man, wrinkly and brown, with his lips sucked into his mouth due to the lack of teeths. He´s got an old-fashioned hearing aid clipped behind his right ear, a black leather cap and watery eyes that he dabs with a napkin.

He gets some soup and bread at the the near-by restaurant in exchange for stacking up the plastic furniture after closing time. We´re on a row of seats, looking at the TV showing “Fools Gold”; a bad excuse for getting Matthew Mcconaugheys shirt off as many times as possible in two hours.

But the wrinkly old man seems to like it, he´s standing beside us, hands locked behind his back, looking at the teve, looking over at us, smiling. We smile back. He especially seem intrested in M&A, but not in that dirty old man fashion. He just seem lonely, and the smiles exchanged are just human contact.

He takes his time with the furniture. Stapling some chairs, then coming over to us and the movie, then going back over to row up the tables. He takes his job seriously.

But as the restaurant pulls down their protective gate of corrugated tin, there´s not much left for him to do, so he takes his yellow little bike and walks off with a smile and a wave; we smile and wave back, wondering what kind of reality he´s off to.

He didn´t even get to see Mcconaughey and Kate Hudson finally getting married with a bun in the oven.


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