ON PLANET ‘HAPPY’

14.02.05


So we decided to fly up to planet Happy . How did it stick to my mind that the aforementioned planet was on number 256 (instead of 205)? After such persistence, it’s not strange that we found ourselves outside a taxi agency, somewhere on Liossion Street. Panayiota had a hard time. It’s not easy to slide on the slope with Nicholas: you have to avoid the buses, the dug and narrow pavements and you also have to have your mind on numbers, in case you find yourself completely elsewhere.

At some point, we finally reach this ostensibly known stellar sign of the city, which is overtaken by night, without suspecting that, although we arrive late, it’s still very early. Why didn’t anyone tell us that the Mikro would appear after eleven at night and not at 21:30 as was written on the ticket? No problem (in the beginning, at least). We were watching Gousgounis’ face on the video-screen announce the ‘good old’ Greek film festival. I saw it once. I saw it twice. I had a drink too. A small quantity. Not much stuff. How could I imagine that I would desperately need to pee? I could do nothing about that of course. I stood in the front line to hold the bar (a regular one, not the prison one). The toilets were upstairs at the back. So I decided to forget about it. I got up to dance, move, struggling for good, in order to forget struggling for bad. I sat down again only for five minutes. I was standing for almost two hours.

I wasn’t excited. I found that the new songs were far too mediocre; songs of the drawer, as I call them. They are included in the category of songs that you preserve in case of an emergency when your company presses you to make an album right on the spot. At first, the band was dispirited. Afterwards, something seemed to strike them and they started bouncing all over the place alone. I was bouncing too so as not to lose my spirits. Every now and then I smiled at Panayiota. I really believe that when your expectations are proved wrong and you wind up with boredom instead of having fun, surpassing the mediocrity of the moment and making it great or at least memorable is something that is in your hands no matter what. Well, I had done it: laughing at the whole thing, which was to laugh at anyway. When I was tired, I finally sat on my chair (for the five minutes to which I referred before) and observed everyone and everything. I thought that the concert would be over. I wanted to scream: ‘All right now. It’s time to go home. Don’t you think?’.

Nah. It was time for planet Happy again and again. Hello. And if we’re up to it, hello again. And see you. And see you again.’. Same old stuff.

‘Mercy guys! When am I going to reach the magic loo?’
The concert is over (at last). When the time for freedom comes, Diamantis comes out of the crowd. Yes, Diamantis! (Not the snake. It was someone else. Unknown.) He was in the mood for talking.
‘C’mon’, Diamantis, now that we found you, do you happen to know where exactly are the toilets?’
‘You can’t go there. They’re upstairs. Be patients. Take a cab and rush home.’
‘What are you talking about, Diamantis! The situation is serious here. We’ll go and go again. We won’t take a cab anyway. We have a car.’
‘And where do you live?’
I look at Panayiota. (‘What is that fellow asking now?’)
‘Do you need help?’
‘No; well, yes. Sit here and keep an eye on the coats and the wheelchair.’
We go upstairs. We reach the top of the stairs. A fat 45-year-old lady comes out of the toilet right on time.
‘Can you give me a hand?’
‘Yes, darling.’
‘Take care. There’s another step inside.’
‘Wow. How big!’
I’m about to ask: ‘Who are you? The mother of the members of Mikro?’
She catches me first. She doesn’t ask questions. She explains herself.
‘Don’t close the door. We’ve seen other birdies and we know about that stuff.’
‘You’ve never seen one like mine.’ (She provoked me. Didn’t she?)
‘What do you suggest me? That I sit there looking?’
‘Do what you want. I have to pee.’
At some point, the lady loses it and disappears.
After relaxing from our serious and urgent task, we go down the stairs with the help of some other volunteer this time. We wear our coats and get ready to go outside. No word on Diamantis. We forgot him completely; not intentionally but out of forgetfulness. Suddenly, I have a flash.
‘Want to go and talk to John-John?’
‘Let’s do it.’

We didn’t found John. We found Nikos. A great guy (he seems to be). Very friendly and smart, which is exactly what I was not since I uttered my stupid words without even realizing.‘You were very good after the middle of the concert.