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tale 98
security Written by
Rainer: rainer.lehrer@yahoo.com Learn
languages (via Skype): Rainer: + 36 20 549 52 97 or + 36 20 334 79 74 |
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security He had just come from the factory,
eight hours of monotonous work next to the machine, three shifts, once from
six a.m. to two p.m., then from two p.m. to ten at night, and another shift
from ten to six in the morning. However, it was worth it, the bank
finally granted him the loan for his dream car. No Porsche, because of course
his wife and children also had to have seats in it. Nevertheless, they were
very sad when they learned that there would be no more summer vacation at the
lake for the next six years because otherwise the payment instalments could
not be paid. His car stood in the fenced
parking lot of the factory, even with security guards. At least that way he
could work quietly, knowing that no one would get to his car. When he arrived
at his gem, he went around to admire it and to make sure that no one had
scratched his darling while parking. Slowly he finished his cigarette, his
noble vehicle with enormous horsepower was supposed to stay clean. He also
always reminded his wife and children not to get in with dirty shoes. The key almost slipped into the
keyhole by itself and all doors opened automatically with a small movement.
The radio inside was tuned to his football station, "Always on the kick"
was the motto. If he had bought his kids a normal computer, he could now watch
the matches on the Internet. Why did one have a television? Unfortunately, he
had to follow the broadcasting times. His club had lost again, but in
the new car, the news sounded less shocking, he even whistled a little song
that was not sung at all during matches, but yelled. “Hey, you idiot! Why are you
walking across the street right now? Do you want me to wear down my brakes
and car rubbers?” The terrified pedestrian jumped back onto the sidewalk.
Didn't they know he had a new car? He felt that the whole world was looking
at him in his new car. The news on the radio reported that the government in
the neighbouring country wanted to change the constitution because of the
terrorist threat, but that this was actually directed against its own
citizens in order to prevent demonstrations. "We need that here
too!" - he thought to himself. “They also set cars in fire during demonstrations.
It's a joke of history that the very people, who caused the damage back then,
were now forming the government." Finally, he arrived at the block
of houses. Ten-story
concrete houses as far as the eye could see. He drove proudly through this
city jungle. Everyone had to cast an envious look at his acquisition. That was
the recompense for the daily humiliations in the factory. His head of
department had to take care of his sick old mother and had therefore only
been able to afford a used car. Well, that supervisor didn't like it when one
of his subordinate employees drove a better car. At every encounter, this
boss made him feel that it was precisely because of the new car that he was
in the hands of his superior. If he was fired, he would have to sell his
darling. Again no parking space! There were
actually twenty parking spaces for two hundred apartments. He had to park his
cleanly polished vehicle in the mud. And he couldn't afford a garage. He got
out and walked towards the ten-story house in which he lived. He had already
opened the door when it occurred to him that he had forgotten to turn off the
car lights. The battery would be dead by tomorrow, so he went back. But everything
was switched. Reassured, he moved back towards the front door. The elevator
didn't work, but why should he wonder? He, like many others, didn't pay the
ancillary costs for the maintenance of the house either. He lived on the
tenth floor. He had to use the stairs. When he got to the third floor, it
occurred to him that maybe he hadn't locked the doors. His feet quickly
carried him down. Driver's door, passenger door, rear passenger doors,
everything was fine! On the third attempt on the way to his apartment, he
reached the fifth floor, he turned back because the radio, the hood and the
trunk door had to be checked. When he finally got to the top, he did that
several times a day, maybe he was even fitter than the soccer players he supported,
the broadcasting of the soccer match had already started. He quickly switched
on the television, got a bottle of beer from the refrigerator and sat down on
the sofa to enjoy the action on the green lawn. A squeak of brakes awoke him. Had
someone hit his darling or was it being stolen? He jumped up, got to the
window, and searched the area for suspects. Not even the screaming of the
soccer reporter about a goal could lure him away from the window. He slept
very poorly that night, so he decided to go to the police immediately the
next morning to request a patrol for this part of the block of houses. He
also wrote a letter to the government that night demanding that the penalty
for car theft be increased. |
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