Paula says what she thinks. At least sometimes.
Mostly, she talks without thinking. Just as an idea hits her. Or just as her gut feeling tells her!
Once in two months, she is totally silent. No syllable will pass her lips.
The customers are used to it. They just point their fingers at the newspaper. The cigarettes. The love story. And the ’super sausage-roll’!
But whenever she is talking, she has to listen to hundreds of love stories!
Piecewise – between taking one-and-twenty and two euros. If it was an entire bottle of beer, sometimes she has to listen for five minutes or more!
And Susi will weep at Paula’s. Behind the kiosk. Because her Herbert, again, has been beating her. Drunk.
And Conny gets a free sausage sandwich and a cup of hot tea. Still, she cannot stop smoking weed. Poor sod!
For the ’Delicious FAZ Fuzzy’, Paula bends under the table to pick it up every other week.
For the filthy pages. He buys them for a friend. Not for himself. Sure! And the ’Beck’s Beer Drinker’ wants the Playboy under the PM magazine. The guy with the ’Sueddeutsche ’ also buys auto-motor-sport and ’My Horse’. And the ’Hanauer Anzeiger’ takes the ’Kicker’.
The ’BRIGITTE’s’ are all known to Paula by name. The same goes for the Gauloise Ladies!
Well, basically, they are all ok! Her customers!
Once in a while, you get a stinker. But Paula will form them into shape.
If necessary, she can get quite loud-voiced! For all to hear. Even those near-deaf elderlies. She has to find an outlet for everything. She does not care if it is appropriate. Or inappropriate.
The same goes for what annoys her about Sandra. Her stubborn daughter.
Or if something is wrong in the street where she lives. Or in the city. Or in Germany. Or in the impossible UE. Or elsewhere in the world.
But when all is said and done, the world at large is something she basically could not care less about. After all, there is enough happening in her own life that is less than perfect. But then, what is less than perfect in the world is even worse! On the front pages of her magazines, all you ever read is slaughter!
In former times, at least you got tits and bums. People could get upset about them. Including herself! But only if said accessories were bigger than her own outfit.: she really had quite a bit of material up front! And her rear could compete with a mare in heat. At least that is what Jürgen used to say. The rat. He just left. When she was carrying Sandra. Well – history.…
But other than that, they were more orderly at ’Honi’! In those Erfurt days. Not all had been bad – in the GDR.
And you had to admit that business was not so great here, either. Which was hardly a surprise! Nobody smoked these days: everybody wanted to live the healthy life. They all want to lie on their sofas and watch TV when they are a hundred. And then they want to go west without ever having woken up from their sofa dreams.
Luckily, there were still women around! They still smoked. Old and young ones. Including herself! They are the ones who you still could make money with.
But then, who is still drinking beer today in bright daylight? They are few and far between. The young ones have no time. And the retirees prefer to drink schnapps!
Yes, once in a while, she will offer them one on the house. But careful! They will easily get demanding …
To make up for it, her ’Super Sausage Rolls’ sometimes still sit there at night. That is really something she feels insulted by. But then, the only thing the young girls let behind their teeth is green salad. And raw cucumbers, unpeeled. The painted skeletons are the worst of them!
They no longer know what roast pork tastes like. Or knuckle of pork with sauerkraut. They are all into vagina. Or vegan. Whatever that is supposed to mean? You cannot expect her to really know about all that stuff, can you?
The other day, her Sandra also started in the same fashion!
Nothing she cooks at home is good enough! All is bad! And how she runs around! The girl is a true embarrassment: no end of iron rings on her face. And tattoos all over the place. Her Kevin looks even worse. And this hell of a shaved head! Truly venomous! Basically, Paula would prefer not to return home at all. All she ever does is have to get annoyed with those two ’tattoos ’!
What a blessing that she has her Helmut! Besides the kiosk, he really is the one true joy of her otherwise ’shitty ’ life. He really cares about her. You could not wish for more! And he has been doing so for years!
If it were not for him and the kiosk, she would really decide to shoot herself! Or take pills …
On Monday – Paula’s kiosk was –surprisingly – closed!
This has never happened before. The customers were angry and shook their heads.
Later, Susi told people that Paula had planned to do less kiosk work, anyway! And marry Helmut. All had been ordered already! Then last week she got the diagnosis: probably lung cancer!
Exactly – what you read in the ’Hanauer Anzeiger’ was also about Paula: Woman throws herself in front of train – one-hour delay of all early commuter traffic!
She had given the police the information about Conny. Of whom nothing but minced meat was left. Lately, she had been dreaming of her final appearance! One final appearance with flying colours! One where everyone would feel it! She had said that was her vengeance, punishment for the One Above. Paula had only laughed in her face and said that was mere rubbish!
She never believed Helmut about his lung cancer! Never in life, was what she had said: never in life did Helmut suffer from cancer …
On Thursday – it had reopened. The Kiosk!
God be praised! People were truly happy! Paula would never have dreamed to receive so much outspoken delight. And that Susi in the back was not going to cry, but instead was giggling, was also something she would not have thought. At long last, she had sent her drunkard Herbert on his way! Paula had bought champagne and toasted Susi’s courage!
And she had also toasted ’Minced-Meat Conny’ in hell!
They both had laughed so much that the guy who bought the Süddeutsche had pointed at his forehead. In fact, he had not even bought the newspaper. And the FAZ Fuzzy had left without his dirt, because Paula could not stop laughing. And neither could Susi!
Well, how was anybody supposed to understand women, said the ’Hanauer Anzeiger’ reader.
And then he started laughing himself. And so did Helmut behind him. He seemed to be quite amused …
Had Paula been right after all with her diagnosis? Was it all a lie and nothing was true anyway and life was basically rotten?
Perhaps that was it. Otherwise they would not all have laughed so much, would they?
(Translated by EG)
I took the picture from google