The latenight carsnack

WARNING: This text contains cursewords such as 'asshole' and 'whore'. One night Catja is driving home. When she suddely stops at a crossing, a drunkard comes her way. 

16.02 hours
A front door. Paris, France.

Catja closes the door behind her. She walks towards her car, which is a few steps ahead. Holding a bouquet of flowers she keeps a heavy pace. She's thinking about how the bikeriding really works. The reason for the flowers is very simple, because it is march the 24rd: her mothers birthday. Today is her ninetieth birthday. Catja is standing in  front of her small Fiat. She lays yellow daffodils, which are glistening in the sun, on top of her car to look for her keys. After going through her pockets for a long time she finally finds them. She takes the right key, puts it in the keyhole, opens the door and gets the bouquet. After sitting down, she shuts the cardoor and drives of.

19.00 hours
In front of an appartment building. Paris, France

'Ow man! Can't you hurry up, it's seven o'clock already!' Marco is waiting in front of his car, waiting for his brother Alex. 'Now it's one past seven, goddammit! If you don't hurry up now, i'm leaving.' Alex runs out and jumps inside the vehicle. 'Well? We're leaving?' Alex says giggling. 'Débile,' Marco says laughing. Marco also jumps inside the car and starts it. 'Alexander,' Marco starts off in a strict manner. 'You had promised not to call me Alexander...' 'Yeah-yeah-yeah...Whatever. Listen,' he starts over, one, you don't eat in my convertible. Two, you don't press anything, not even the radio. And most important three, you don't drink and don't snort coke! No alcohol, no drugs.' Alex looks at Marco with a sad face. 'I'm serious!' 'Aaahhh...'Alex whines. 'Can I at least drink beer?' he begs. 'Oké, beer's allright. But no Grolsch okay! Heineken.' Alex laughs. 'Now it's five past seven, are we going already?' 'Yes, what were my rules?' No eating, no pressing anything, no Grolsch.' Marco nods content, 'That's my boy,' and pets his head. 'The hair, the hair. Watch the hair.'

21.23 hours
In a festive room. Paris, France

'Non, je dois vraiment partir,' Catja says. She has here coat and all, standing at the exit ready to leave. 'No, I really have to go,' she repeats. 'Allright, too bad. I guess i'll see you Saturday.' 'Yes, that's right.' The woman walks down the street. Why did she have to wear those heels? Ow yeah, that's right, to shut up that Kim. Hah! Did you see that face? Catja chuckles. Where did she leave that car? Catja stops walking and looks around. Ow, ofcourse. How stupid, I left it in the parking garage.

21.30 hours
A jumping nightclub. Paris, France.

Hey honey, do you wanna come with me?' The filthy guy yells to the girl. The guy gets his face slapped by the girl, who walks off angry. 'Hahahah...' his brother laughs. 'Nice try.' Marco gives Alex a pat on the back and walks towards a girl. 'Connard,' Alex mumbles and sadly walks towards the bar. 'Asshole.' 'One beer please, Heineken.' The bartender nods, and continues his to work. Within seconds Alex has a beer in front of him.

21.50 hours
At the bar of the nightclub. Paris, France.

'I would lllllllike......another beer pleasssse...' Alex says drunk. 'Can't do that,  you already had ten. I'm cutting you off,' the bartender says cocky. 'What did you just say?' Alex asks angrily. 'What did you just say? Ta mère elle est une put! Your mum's a whore!' 'Security,' the bartender yells into his walkietalkie. 'Yeah, that's right call those assholes. You filthy dog, I'm going to kick your ass!' Alex tries to go over the bar and tries to hit the man, while lying on top of the bar. 'Security, security!' Four enormous men make their way through the crowd and when they reach the crime scene, events start to speed up. One man grabs the drunk by his feet, causing his head to hit the ground. The second man grabs his arms, but Alex manages to get away causing man number three and four to step in. The two geezers both jump the drunk guy and take him in a headlock. The former two men grab the boozehound and take him outside.

‘Écoute! Ne jamais venir ici encore une fois! Jamais! Compris?’
'Listen to me! Don't you ever come back here. Ever! Understand?' one of the guys says. Alex nods. 'Compris.'
‘Et maintenant, fous l’camp!’ ‘And scram, right now!’
‘D’accord.Allright.’ And Alex runs off.

22.00 hours
A dark lonesome road. Paris, France.

The radio's on and Catja is singing along. 'Pokerface, p-p-p-pok-k-k-kerface...' she cheers loudly. 'She's midewaldi lalala....' The cars stops in front of the lights. 'Pokerfa-eeeece... ma-ma-ma-ma-ma...' Catja turns down the radio, in the distance she sees a man shuffling down the road in a drunk fashion. Damn, Catja thinks, now it's starting to rain aswell. She presses a button and the wipers start to go from left to right. The boozehound starts to shuffle toward the crossing, but suddenly stops there. He looks towards Catja. Click, all doors are locked. The drunk walks towards her. Catja's heart starts racing and she starts making a whole scenario of what could happen. The man's blunt face comes closer and closer. It suddenly stopped raining. Click, the wipers stopped.

He's going to kill me.
He's going to break the window and kill me.
No, maybe not Catja, maybe...
He might grap a gun.
The man leeps on top of the car.
You see, he's going to smash the window.

Catja's stares in front of her in total look of terror on her face. O God, o god, help, help. But then out of nothing, the man sticks out his tongue and demonstratively starts to lick the frontwindow like he's cleaning it. Catja's bloodpressure starts to drop, but unable to laugh she just looks at the window with a mixture of surprise and fear. While the man continues to lick Catja starts looking around for help. On the left there's an Arab bakery, on the right just darkened houses. There not a soul around. The horn? A long a loud honking of the horn follows. But the carlicker doesn't give in. Catja hits the gas, but the completely wasted man keeps on licking. She moves the car forward a little, and backs it up a little. The man stops licking. It worked, Catja thinks triumphantly. He gets off of the car and shuffles away again. The light turn green. From a distance a car comes Catja's way while honking. Sorry, Catja gestures in the rearview mirror. Sorry.

22.00 hours
A dark, unlit street. Paris,France.

Make a left here, or was it a right? Alex roams through the deserted part of Paris. He remembers his grandpa's wise words; when you're lost, always make a left. Or was it right? Left it is. Hungry, it doesn't get any worse than this. It starts to rain. The boozer sees a Maroccan, Arab bakery. Mmm, Maroccan bread. He runs towards it, but then he sees what it costs. Merde! Dammit! With disappointment he walks towards the crossing. The water suddenly stoppes pouring down. Then he sees a giant french bread with ham, cheese, tomato, cucumber, lettuce, a bit of mayo and as a cherry on top: bacon. He throws a hungry look at the french bread. Calmly he approaches it. French bread, french bread, french bread. Alex jumps on top of the sandwich and starts licking off the mayo. Mmm mayo. The french bread is cheering him on. Eat me, eat me, he yells at the hungry man. Come on, eat me, the delicious sandwich continues. Alex is really enjoying this. Suddenly the french bread starts to move. Stop moving you stupid bread, Alex thinks annoyed. The bread starts moving again, back and forth. Allright, allright, I'm going,' Alex thinks. He gets of it and continues to walk.

22.16 uur.
Outside, in front of a beautiful house. Paris, France.

Catja gets out of the car and rummages her key out of her coatpocket. Walks towards the front door of her house. It's silent when she walks in, deadsilent. She locks the door behind her and walks inside the house. Turns on the light, grabs the phone, and dials a number. 'Mum, you'll never believe what just happened to me.'

Sources: www.todio.nl