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vrijdag 16 november 2007

Dirty old man

Hammy and I live in an apartment building which is eleven stories high and has four entrances. The only people we see on a more or less regular basis are our neighbors right next to us. It’s an elderly couple. The woman is of the talkative nosey kind, but very friendly. Her husband is also a kind man, albeit a bit difficult to understand. Every time he talks to me I only get half of what he’s saying. His mental faculties aren’t what they used to be. He tends to forget things. In the last five years he’s asked me at least ten times where I come from (I’m not originally from Brussels). When I first moved in, I was living with a friend of mine. I’m sure he thought we were gay. About a year later my buddy moved out and my girlfriend moved in. It took him two years to understand that she’s living with me now.

His favorite subject, by far, is sex. At some point in our limited conversations he brings up some story about some woman he once knew or about girls he’s seen. In general I have no clue what he’s talking about, except that it has something to do with sex. I’m guessing he doesn’t get any nowadays, so whenever he gets the chance to reminisce, he does. That’s all fine by me. In general, our conversations only last five minutes or so, and if it makes the man happy …

They have this little lapdog he takes out twice a day. Yesterday evening when I got home, he was just getting back inside. And then he told me something, which has led me to believe he’s starting to imagine things. He said that he saw a naked woman leave my apartment, carrying a bag. Just to make sure I heard right, I asked “a naked woman”. “Yeah, an American lady, wearing nothing but a nightgown.” At first I thought he was talking about Hammy. When I leave for work in the morning she usually stands at the door wearing a bathrobe, while I wait for the elevator. Sometimes my neighbor sees this if letting out the dog coincides with my morning ritual. But then, he said, the ‘American’ was a sturdy woman. Hammy is quite skinny and petite. On top of that, he ‘saw’ her at 2 or 3 o’clock in the afternoon. With a bag of some sort.

He knows I have a girlfriend, or at least he should know. He knows what she looks like. And now he believes that another woman, an exotic foreigner even, was in my apartment. I’m pretty sure Hammy isn’t a lesbian, nor is she bisexual. So, let’s assume the American was never there. In his head she was though. What probably happened, is this: he has seen Hammy in her bathrobe, his brain isn’t working at top speed anymore and he’s frustrated about being old and a lack of sex. If you mix these elements with wishful thinking, you get a story he would like to believe. Maybe, he thinks I’m living the life he never could. I’m young, educated, for all he knows I’ve got a trendy job where I meet hot chicks all the time. The morals of us youngsters nowadays aren’t the same as those that he grew up in. Everything goes now, especially since we’ve had the sexual revolution of the seventies. All chicks dig other chicks. It’s only natural that we men get to share in the fun. So now I’m living with two women, who’re both exclusively into me, and each other. Yeah. He’s too old to jack off, but that thought alone probably makes him smile inside. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t have access to internet. With the images he could be seeing there, he could imagine a whole new world for himself.

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