(image taken from http://pascalcampion.blogspot.com/)
The cafe was the new hidden place in town, only known to the (very) cool people. Some young girls next to us were eating bad pasta but didn't seem to care. Huge plates of white tagliatelle with slices of raw zucchini went back to the waitress. They all seemed happy for this skinny moment, and continued sipping their glasses of wine. I drank some hazy apple juice and ordered extra crisps. (My coffee order I saved for later- always good to know you still owe yourself one, it makes it all more bearable).
My friend and I hadn't seen each other for a long time and we were now digging through facts and decencies. 'How are you?', 'How have you been?'. Tiring necessities - I thought. But then: forget your tiredness.
I had special plans for that evening. I was going to forget. I was going to forget that I was sticky glue to many things that were bad for me. Especially to male things.
On the next table a guy lit a cigarette. Above him on the wall there was a macro sign saying 'No Smoking'. We started to like the place and ordered beers. It was Thursday evening and things were nice- which can sometimes be difficult to accept.
After five beers and two more bags of crisps I decided to stop the frivolities.
'See, it is that I can't let go. I just can't. I'm worse than chewing gum'.
He looked at me and then said with a firm voice:
'What you never really got hold of, you can impossibly let go'.
It seemed I had to stay sticky for a while. Not that I minded.
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