Why?

It´s Friday again, Matuschek is sitting in his taxi, listening to the radio, WDR 3; they always broadcast classical music at this time, that´s just the atmosphere he needs for reading and waiting.
He has just been at the Aral shop, they have the best coffee machine of the world, sometimes he drives 30.000 feet just for this coffee, he finished the ‘’ Mirror’’, oh, what´s that, Aral sells the highlights of the paperbook sector, for example, Nick Hornby´s ‘’ High Fidelity ‘’, he always wanted to read that one, so he got a coffee from the coffee machine, bought the book rolled a cigarette and left.
Rob, from ‘’ High Fidelity ‘’ is just describing his teenage loves, a bit long-winded, though, as Matuschek hears a loud screaming; before he can look what is happening, the door opens and a beautiful -looking woman enters, or better flies into his taxi.
‘’ Get started ‘’
Matuschek cares much about good manners.
‘’ Good evening, my name is Matuschek, Igor Matuschek, where do you want to go ? ‘’
‘’ Oh boy, shut up, lock up the door and get started. ‘’
‘’ Äh, okay, but where to, beautiful woman ? ‘’
‘’ GET STARTED ‘’
Okay, the girl really seems to be frightened, let´s be generous today and ignore her last words; one can only turn right at this station but after 30 feet one has to decide: straight ahead or left. 
Matuschek starts and as he sees a furious man of medium age heading on his taxi he locks up the doors, Matuschek´s taxi has a central locking system.
‘’ Do you know him ?’’
‘’ Go on. ‘’
‘’ The traffic lights are red, we could take him with us. ‘’
‘’ Just go on. ‘’
‘’ Okay, the traffic lights turn green, I will go straight ahead.’’
‘’ Please ‘’
‘’ No problem, but where to ?’’
Before the beauty can answer, the well-trained man, about 30 years old, heads for the rail. Matuschek has a Peugeot, an estate car, with a rail, Matuschek sails, has several licenses for motorboats and BR´s, likes the rail very much, but always wanted to know what it is for, now he knows, for clinging at it.
The man looks through the sunshine roof and screams: ‘’ Get out. ‘, striking at the front passenger´s window at the same time. ‘’ Oh no, not that way ‘’, Matuschek thinks, ‘’ that´s dangerous, I´m driving at least 15 mph’’ and so he stops. Got it, the free-climber jumps off and steps back for 3 feet or so.
‘’ Go on ‘’
‘’ Very sporty, your friend ‘’
‘’ GO ‘’
‘’ Okay ‘’
Matuschek starts again thinking that there are really interesting situations in a taxi driver´s everyday´s life and that this episode is finished now, as the man clings at the rail again. This time he is not only screaming but also kicking at the door, which is, form a sporty point of view, a really good performance.
‘’ I have to stop once more ‘’
‘’ NOOOO ‘’
‘’ Yes, I just can´t wait until he falls off, we are not at the movies ‘’
Matuschek looks through the sunshine roof, the young man really seems to be excited, turns on the warning flashers and stops the car. He gets out discovering that all doors have been opened by that. Matuschek is just standing on the street, the furious man is standing 3 feet away luckily not trying to open the front passenger´s door. Matuschek looks back to get to know who is standing behing him, a normal car with two girls ignorantly watching the scene, and behind them, by a lucky coincidence, a police car with two officers just leaving their car. The policemen take up the personal data of all of us and stay as long as Matuschek is out of sight with the young woman.
That was two hours ago, Matuschek has again been sitting at the same place for 30 minutes, a quiet day today, but then he suddenly listens to a nice revue in the radio, he didn´t get the name of the cabaret artist, but it is really good, like:
An underground station, an older worker in his working clothes with a cap and a woman, about 40 years old, wearing cotton all over, Birkenstock sandals, a linen bag from the whole food shop, ascetic, a health freak, waiting for the underground, smoking is forbidden at the station.
The worker is smoking.
Woman: ‘’ Hey, you, smoking is forbidden at the station. ‘’
Worker: ‘’ - ‘’
Woman: ‘’ Hey, you, smoking is forbidden here ! ‘’
Worker: ‘’ - ‘’
Woman: ‘’ Smoking is unhealthy. ‘’
The worker is silent and continues smoking.
Woman: ‘’ Smoking passively makes one ill. ‘’
Worker: ‘’ - ‘’
Woman: ‘’ Hey, I don´t want to become ill, you are not allowed to smoke here. ‘’
Worker: ‘’ - ‘’
Woman: ‘’ Hello, you are not allowed to smoke here, I want to live, live, live. ‘’
Worker: ‘’ Why ?’’
Matuschek laughs, the door of his taxi is opened, and a young man gets in with a cigarette in his hand.
Man: ‘’ Am I allowed to smoke here ? ‘’
Matuschek: ‘’ Nooooo, I wanna live, live, live ‘’
Man: ‘’ Okay, i can put it out. ‘’
Matuschek: ‘’ Please, please, please. ‘’
The passenger left, Matuschek is standing at Aral, a coffee in his hand, smoking.

© 1999 by ulrich prietz

Two bottles of wine

‘’ South Station ‘’
‘’ Five - Zero - Eight ‘’
‘’ Do you make a supply ride ? ‘’
‘’ Yes ‘’
‘’ Eight - Twentythree - Eightynine, Schmied, Roberta Street 7’’
‘’ Got it ‘’
Not until now, Matushek realised that he has not seen the mobile phone for the whole evening, he opened the glove compartment, looked into the side compartment, digged through the pile of blocks and handkerchiefs. Ismail has probably taken it with him, that happens every four or five weeks.
Matushek looked for his phonecard in his wallet, a relict of the days in India, luckily there was a telephone box around.
‘’ Yes please ‘’
‘’ Good evening, what would you like to have ? ‘’
‘’ Pardon ? ‘’
‘’ You ordered a supply ride. ‘’
‘’ I, ah, yes, yes, two packets of cigarettes, HB and ... two bottles of wine ... ‘’
‘’ A certain wine ? ‘’
‘’ Yes, red wine. ‘’
‘’ Dry, mellow, Italian, expensive, cheap ? ‘’
‘’ Yes, not Italian, but dry. ‘’
‘’ What about French ? ‘’
‘’ French ? French is always good, yes, two bottles, please.’’
‘’ Okay, it will take about 10 minutes. ‘’
The next petrol station was ELF, two to three minutes. French is always good, spoken by a very nice - though drunk - female voice, Matushek thought. The purchase was without difficulties, there was a dry Bordeaux at an adequate price.
Wrapped up in a plastic bag, a look at the city map, Roberta Street, ah, there it was, only three minutes. A small street just with apartments, where to park , will it take longer, do I obstruct traffic, there is room to park, not exactly in front of the entrance, but not too far away as well. Matushek parked the car and went to number seven, the plastic bag in his hands, what was her name, Schmied, Schmitt with ‘’i’’ and ‘’tt’’ as it could be found out at the doorbells, there were no other Schmieds at the other four doorbells.
The heavy wooden door, probably made of oak, the house was built about 1920-1930, could be easily opened after the sound of the buzzer, relying on the arrangement of the bells Schmitt was living on the third floor. Having made the first couple of stairs, Matushek hears the sound of down-coming steps, heavy, unsecure, not female at all, and then he suddenly saw ‘’ him ‘’ coming down the stairs, about 45 years old, fat, unkempt not at all fitting to the voice on the phone.
The exchange - plastic bag against money - was fast and with hardly any words, but to the satisfaction of both. Down the few stairs, Matushek was sitting in his car again, driving into the night.

© 1999 by ulrich prietz