The Romanian language for other people.

Motto: There's a 0.1 BTC prize for the first complete translation to English

of the Romanian text (87 words plus one letter)

along with an explanation of its entire subtext.

A young tigress is waiting in line at the bus station. Up on her high heels, eyes flashing blue far above the calvitious heads in the crowd, she appears somewhat out of place. A man passes the queue and in passing notices her. He's a good decade her senior, but well dressed and with a particular expression of disdain imprinted on his face. His eyes have a distinct glimmer that'd seem to suggest he's secretly laughing at anyone in front of them and everyone in general. Nevertheless, he turns around, and for a moment they face each other.

- Pisi, stai o tura ? he inquires with affable familiarity.

- Unde ?

- Am un loc aici, aproape.

- Haida.

He walks away, and she breaks out of the line and follows him. A couple of blocks up they turn into a hallway, and go inside. Some ottomans and low tables, a man behind a sort of a desk, a receptionist, a doorman maybe. His posture tightens as the two pass by his desk, but it's barely perceptible.

Up in a room on the second floor the two fuck for a while.

As he's putting his shirt back on, he turns to ask her, his bemusing expression a few accents stronger

- Cum stai cu banii ?

- Prost.

Her response is dry, plain, with no further indication. He fishes a roll out of his pocket, takes two bills off the top and places them on the armoire next to him. She blows him a burlesque kiss. He finishes dressing and leaves. She collects herself lazily, spends a while nude in the bathroom, eventually emerges. She dresses, watching herself in the mirror as she does it as if watching a stranger. Eventually she picks up the two bills, sticks them in her purse, takes out a stack of post-its, affixes one to the wooden surface and starts to write. She puts down her initial but stops suddenly, and doesn't continue. Instead, on a new line, she jots a string of numbers and with that she's out the door.

* * *

Phone ringing, close to a bed in which a pile of blond curls rests in disarray. A hand emerges from under the blanket and sucks the helpless receiver deep, deep under the downy depths.

- Hello, says the voice at the other end, a very professional young man. I am Mr ...'s assistant.

- Aham...

- Are you the lady that participated Monday morning at the event on Republicii 128b ?

- Yeah...

- Mr. ... would request the pleasure of your company at the Conference to be held tomorrow, Thursday the 16th, 5pm, in the Crystal Hall at the Intercontinental. This is a no press event, please do not break the embargo.

- Aha.

- Shall I confirm you then ?

- Alright.

- Do you need directions ?

- No.

- Okay, thank you very much.

And with that, the line clicks.

* * *

The gaze of the same man meets the gaze of the same woman in the lobby of the town's most pretentious hotel. He's with a bunch of people, but he leaves them and approaches her.

- Ma tii ? Her question is flat, neutral. He smiles warmly and nods.

- Unde ?

- Pai iti gasim ceva.

- Bine, da' mai spre Kogalniceanu asa.

- Mergi la scoala ?

- Da.

- Pentru ce ?

- Pentru ca sa sug pula de cetateni respectabili luata din drum.

- Bun, da' teoretic vorbind.

- Nu, ca rizi.

- De tine mai greu.

She's visibly flattered by the retort, she looks down coyly and then flashes at him.

- Afaceri.

He laughs heartily. She frowns. He smiles at her again.

- Bine pisi. Mergi pina la baie si-asteapta-m-acolo.

- La fete sau la baieti ?

- Pai dupa cum simti tu.

She ponders this a moment, but eventually

- Da' nu e clar.

- Ambiguitatea inseamna ca nu conteaza.

- A.

She stands up and heads towards the restrooms. He sits back in the chair and watches her go.

« The social lives of other people.

MPIF (F.MPIF) November 2014 Statement »

Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte

Thursday, 04 December, Year 6 d.Tr.