the jitters

thursday, may 9.

it all takes place at the usual hangout. i'm anticipating a catch-up with Professor FLQ, who's been snowbirding in florida since november. shortly after arriving, he -- who useth not computers -- launches us into a(nother) debate about technology. tell me, tvb, do you think facebook is good or bad? yada yada. i'm with the people who think Steve Jobs has contributed to the destruction of civilization. blah blah blah. people die because of the internet. etc. as i attempt to temper his rather black-and-white take on the world wide web, we are suddenly interrupted. hollering from the wobbly table in the corner is a middle-aged pot-bellied figure, whose sagging man-breasts are toppling out either side of his loose, white, sleeveless shirt, his nipples pointing towards the behemoth tattoos on his darkly tanned arms. his hair is electric; his eyes are alarming; his raspy laugh immediately sends chills up my spine and then right back down again. if you don't mind, i couldn't help overhearing what yous were talking about, and i wanted to put my two cents in. the monologue that ensues is, for the most part, unintelligible, and -- what's this! -- even the Professor can't get a word in edgewise. but the initial bit is perfectly clear: a tale about how, thanks to technology (there's the link!), the cops had hunted him down when he was (not so long ago) on the run, and how -- when he finally "let" them find him -- he flipped them the bird. at this point in the story, wearing a cheshire grin, he proceeds to recreate the moment for us, using one hand to crank the middle finger on the other hand slowly toward the sky. this is when i notice that his fingers are trembling. and that there's relatively fresh blood lining the edges of his raw digits. then, more raspy laughter.

after gingerly removing ourselves from the café, the Professor and i are unsure whether Luigi (he'd introduced himself) is under the influence of alcohol, narcotics or perhaps ptsd. meanwhile, my mind is wandering off, though maybe just down an offshoot of the day's technology path. i'm flashing back to a brief incident from shortly before Luigi's and the Professor's arrivals. when a thirty-something man -- whom i vaguely recognize from previous visits to the coffee shop but definitely have never spoken with -- sat at the table beside me and, just before leaving (roughly twenty minutes later), uttered, kind of under his breath: "did you finish your phd?"

and now back to translating...