Being still on my own had started making me feel a bit unsocial, it was time to remedy that.
I went to the bar at the moment I also had to go, so I asked for the direction of the toilet first and then like a good gesture tried ordering a drink. The girl at the bar pointed me to a red door, next to a blue one. While ignoring the mismatch I landed on party favorite: vodka apple-juice and got served.
Took sometime at a table to collect my thoughts of today’s events, finished half my drink, and really had to go to the bathroom. Took note of my surroundings, left my table with all my crap. To get to the toilet I passed the old guy and the teenager, more teenagers had joined the two. It annoyed me somehow one was wearing a Nirvana T-shirt for his age.
To my surprise the blue toilet wasn’t the men’s. So I skipped to the next door swiftly, opened it and found all in order. All the plumbing was effortlessly built above ground and out of the walls. Like they made the extra effort to go all anti establishment in the toilet too. Even the electricity was neatly hammered into the walls. Never-the-less, I enjoyed the scenery while my Blatter shrunk.
Freshened up and back at the bar again, I ordered the same.
Sat back down and now I had a drink and a half on my uninhabited table. Very sad stuff. I realized I was just going to hang out here for a while. Particularly as this beats sitting in the lobby of the hotel, with the barman near, compiling my last efforts. You see, sadness is on several levels. Never just one. As it goes with happiness.
There are some encounters with a girl I met a couple of times around the bar, as I went back and forth the place for annoying questions about the area / whole of Budapest. But I show too much disinterest trying to play cool, while I really wasn’t, cool I mean. She was now sincerely disinterested.
I was getting unfocused and needed some new mission, went to the bar again and asked for a piece of pen and paper. I now got small but effective, paper. Happily started to write out some short notes for later as I still remember the order of things. Third note in: pen dies. It would literally write on anything else but on my little piece of paper. Here would be my last effort to maybe share stories that night with someone else but instead I opted to get a new pen of some people near me.
I needed to write, have purpose, create a situation wherein work had to for this plus pay a cab for me. And that worked out fine. The cab and bills at least, I don’t know if this piece of mine will entertain.
Fast-forward sixteen years.
The quality of my questions and actions that day were horrific of course, I mean I didn’t scare or insult anyone but basically asked everyone the same in the end. Like some bad reporter or someone insecure on a first date. I gave the stupid tourist in Budapest an updated status that nothing really had changed. We were still a nuisance in 2001, and I have helped keep that status.
Then again, this ‘method’ also causes more eventful, yet more time-consuming journeys. But best enjoyed alone, not to annoy the other. I would have nothing to write about anything if everything is going as planned, you have other people that write professionally about the sights and must see’s.
With those ill skills and the trust in the community, the transport system helped me get through and around there almost in warp speed and had lots of fun doing it. It’s my unsung hero of my so-so travels through Europe. A credit to every nation. Really. Honestly.
Still, I’m happy no-one really needs an internet connection to travel for fun or even to commute, but I’m sad it took me a decade to get my own to avoid many more Oktogons on the road. That sucked.