Hooray, I escaped the clutches of the doctors; nothing is wrong with me, they have forgotten nothing in me and I feel really well. The new hip fits, doesn't cause any problems and the running already works quite well. I have even grown almost 2 cm taller, now with two artificial hips, a giant of 1.71 m. Well, I still need a walking stick at the moment, but it can serve me well at the supermarket checkout. And already I come again on stupid thoughts.
As always I sit in the cafe of our supermarket, drink my morning coffee and think about what I'll bring together today. Actually, I would have enough to write from my time in the hospital, especially from the REHA, but there follows a story of its own.
Now I lounge on the chair and watch the hustle and bustle in the cash area of the supermarket. Christine handles her clientele with routine friendliness, Julia's men like to queue up in front of her and wait a little, because Julia is very pretty and looks at every customer as intensively as if he were the one she would have been waiting for.
And lo and behold, cashier 3 is occupied by Diana.
When she sees me, she gives me this typical false sales assistant's smile, which reaches the corners of her mouth but not the eyes. In addition, this morning she seems more nervous and more driving than usual and again and again she looks at me for a moment. Strange.
I would like to describe her a little.
Diana is about 1,6o m tall, has tight thighs, a crisp butt, light pads around her hips and a cute bosom, which she conceals through her blouse and the Edeka waistcoat. She has an interesting, pretty face and half-length, black hair, which she has usually formed into a hairstyle worth looking at. She looks calm and introverted and it takes time to bring her to a real smile.
But she has a defect. And what a defect.
When she is standing, she constantly pulls her blouse and waistcoat down, as if they were sliding up by themselves. That gets annoying after 5 minutes. Now she is already doing it sitting down.
And secondly, when she walks, she moves her hand over her left ass cheek with every step. When she bends over, she uses it to support herself on the half of her butt. One would like to be her left hand for a day.
She also got her nickname from the plucking of blouses. "The plucked chicken, the wife of the tap ", because her husband likes to pick one, as I know from our own restaurant. She herself was never with me in the restaurant, because where I live, it is not fitting that a woman goes alone, that is without husband, or if, then only in a herd with other women into an economy. Otherwise she has a bad reputation away.
And then chew this permanent gum. These grinding jaws strongly remind me of a grazing cattle.
Diana comes to the cafe and gets her daily latte macchiato. A habitual person, like me with my pot of coffee.
Break for breakfast.
Immediately she wiggles behind in the lounge, as always and then she has disappeared for the next half hour.
But hoppla! What is that?
She approaches me and looks at me shyly.
"May I sit with you for a moment?" is her question.
Oh, we are so familiar? Well, why not?
"Of course, with pleasure', I reply and adjust a chair for her.
I close my tablet computer and look at her expectantly.
"What can I do for you?"
"Well, uh, mmh, I don't know how to say it," she answers hesitantly.
"So, out with the language. I don't bite, or not often and certainly not at all as pretty girls as you.
Diana turns red and looks around in embarrassment. Some of her colleagues already give us curious looks. They know me and are now wondering what I have to do with Mrs. T..
Diana takes a deep breath.
"I just wanted to ask if the scooter out there belongs to you. You know, that ship in the parking lot."
My helmet is on the chair next to me and since my Beverly 500 is the only two-wheeler in the parking lot, the question seems obligatory to me.
What does she want?????
"Yes, that's mine, why?"
Diana's face changes from red to violet and she kneads her hands embarrassed.
"Lady Di, now talk already. You make me all fidgety!"
"Oh, Arne, may I say Arne?"
"Yes, yes, yes, what can I do for you?" I urge. I damn well want to hear the right question from her.
"Can I ride with you?"
Finally! That and nothing else I wanted to hear from her.
"Of course, of course. When?"
"Like now, when? So simple?"
"Yes, it is so simple!"
"Oh! When would you have time?"
"How about Sunday. On Saturdays you have to work. And what does your husband say? You are married, aren't you?"
Diana looks at me sadly. It burrows in her.
"Or don't you want to tell me? You don't have to."
Then it breaks out of her.
"Yes, you should know. He has abandoned me because I cannot have children. All that counts up here is that a woman can have and create children. He has looked for another one and I can see where I am staying. I am thirty-one now. Is my life over? Was that?"
There are tears in her beautiful eyes and a sting runs through my heart. I give her a handkerchief and take her hand.
No matter if her colleagues see it and what they think.
"Hey, you're young and pretty," I say to her, "Why should your life be over? If it's all right, I'll pick you up on Sunday morning and then we'll take a day trip to Switzerland."
Diana sniffs and wipes the tears out of her eyes.
"Agreed. I'm looking forward to it. Helmet and so on I have myself, you do not have to get."
I still hold her hand and she looks around embarrassed. But she doesn't pull it back, but squeezes it tighter.
"Now stay seated a little longer until you are calmer again", I mean, "you know that there is nothing worse than curious colleagues."
Diana nods and we talk about trifles for some time until she has to go back to her cash register.
"Then until Sunday, I'm looking forward to it."
To my surprise she gives me a farewell kiss on the cheek, which gives her a poisonous side glance from Julia and makes her blush again.
