A Day of Ordinary Madness

The telephone rings and a private number appears on the display. He is not a close relative, ergo the heart speeds up.

“Hi, I’m from the cultural association so and so, I’m contacting you about those articles you wrote.”

“Ah … um … look, it’s not that I’m really an expert on the subject, that is … I read something … I inquired …”

(God, who did he get me for? Oh my God, maybe he believes me more than I am, after all I just did some research, I read Wikipedia, oh my God, I’m absolutely not up to it … maybe I’ve written a lot of bullshit and he wants to disavow me.)

“We would like to meet you in person.”

(But what need is there? But isn’t what I write enough for you? What is this need that Muggles always have to see each other, to meet, to drink coffee together?)

“Er … but for what reason, sorry?”

“We do conferences.”

(Conferences ? ! Me? !) “You know … I would have a problem speaking in public …”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt! Don’t worry, we’re among friends! “

(But I can’t even among friends.) “I’m sorry, I’m very shy.”

Laughter: “Eheh, I’ll set up a confessional for you, okay?”

(Muggles don’t understand, they will never understand. And they laugh. And I have to pretend to have fun too.) “Ah … ah …”

“I’ll give you my number.”

(‘Fuck you giving it to me, I’ll never call you!)

“I am counting on it, eh, will you call me?”

“Uuugh …”

“So when will we meet?”

(But I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see anyone, I feel bad just answering the phone, I hate the phone, give me a shovel that I dig a hole and bury myself in it.)

“Ok, alright, I’ll call you.”

***

With my husband we go out to eat a sandwich. Suddenly, a group of his colleagues enter who have chosen just today to celebrate I don’t know what. I find them all lined up staring at us motionless and sly, it seems the court of the Inquisition, embarrassment explodes, I don’t know where to look anymore, I am pissed off, I say: “I’m going to get some air “and rocket out without saying goodbye to anyone, I eat the sandwich in the open, on a rain-soaked coffee table. My husband is forced to leave friends, to join me with a pitying and compassionate air. Outdoors it’s cold, the sauce freezes, the aubergines stop on my stomach, my self-esteem crumbles as I mull over what his friends over there will be thinking.

***

And finally, some tips.

Remember that others are afraid too, but they don’t make a big deal out of it.

Move slowly, do everything more calmly than normal. You will still appear a nutburger.

Don’t stand there while they stare at you, keep a newspaper to flip through (straight up!) or a cell phone to pretend to text from.

If you need to call someone, prepare the questions you want to ask them on a piece of paper.

If you blush and are a woman, you can always say that you have sweats. By making an effort, maybe you can look more than forty years old.

Occasionally let others feel embarrassed first. Why always and only you?