Filantropica Page #6

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Sleep tight...

Ah! Umm, just out of curiosity, did you have

time to look at my book?

Really?

You read it?

I had 4 readers in the world,

and one of them was Diana.

I was wasting my best years

in front of a typewriter...

...while somewhere there was a special

someone worth fighting for.

Someone up there loved me.

I had to do the impossible and get

some real money to take her out.

I couldn't afford to make

a fool of myself anymore.

A little respect, what the hell?

You'll throw away that paper tomorrow,

but this book will last you a lifetime.

I thought I'd sell about 100 copies.

After the first 2 hours,

I halved the price.

Even the beggars across the street

were doing better than I was.

-Are you in?

-In on what?

Get the f*** out of here.

-Do you have a problem with me?

-This isnt your turf, you bum.

This is the territory of Gigi Piedone.

-Do you work for Gigi Piedone?

-I don't know any...

I'm sorry, it's a public place and I

have every right to... Ahhh!

The writers' coffee shop.

A place I usually prefer to avoid.

I had to study the works of most

of these drunkards in high school.

They were the poets of

"The Golden Age"...

...who first saw the antagonistical contradictions

between the Russian Vodka and the Romanian Shpritz.

But, under the circumstances,

pride had to be set aside.

You must strike it while it's hot!

-Mr. Negreanu, if I may...

-Speak, I say you may.

-I've been an admired of your work for many years and...

-Ah, you want an autograph?

-No...

-I have no pen!

I'd like you to read a little something

and give me an honest opinion.

O, yes? I won't have any spare time

until after December 1st. But leave it here.

And if anyone else wants it,

it's 30.000 lei.

What?

You want to sell here, to the writers?

You know, we, the younger generation,

have a harder time...

You have a hard time!

That's preposterous!

I, with 17 volumes, tens of awards and texts

that are studied in schools even today...

...I have to drink and eat in this sh*t hole! And on credit,

since I can't pay, and neither can my friends...

And you little younger generation pricks

are complaining?

You have the nerve to ask great writers here

to pay you for your little fart of a brochure...

You know what I do with you, the 90s' writers?

Uh? This is what I do!

Up with the classics! Long live Eminescu!

Post-modernists to the toilet!

Sir... Sir, please

give me a vodka for a poem.

-What do you mean, I don't...

-Haven't you heard, I'm "the poet of the North Station"!

Come here, I won't bite.

-Then I'm "the writer of high school 22".

-I heard. You wrote a book, that's good.

Now give a vodka to a fellow writer.

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