Chapter 20 Part 3 Rotonda Café

Now, I often go to Nathonda, but I don't have the right to enter the lobby.The owner of the cafe, Papa Libion, only allows me to sit at the bar because I don't have a hat.But I already had a lot of artist friends, and I felt very uncomfortable not being allowed to be with them. One day Daddy Lippin said to me, "Hey, Gigi, why don't you get a hat so you can sit in the hall." Not being able to enter the lobby makes me sick to death!Number one, the restrooms are at the end of the hall, and second, I wanted to hang out with the painters and other artists of all kinds in the first hall.

There are politicians from around the globe, and they always look like they're plotting a revolution! In the second hall there are chess players, strange customers and noble ladies of Montparnasse. I want to get a closer look at them because each of them has a legend that makes me jealous!They already have amazing life experiences: Aisha, a radiant Creole, a popular model; Mihaile, a very beautiful dancer; Sylvia, a beautiful and plump woman, who one day she leaves for a holiday… …No one has seen her since in Montparnasse; Germane, the beautiful dancer with fiery eyes; Barclayte; Madot, etc.From appearance to personality, each of them is different!

I finally found a hat, and what a hat it was!Satin, Breton, or miller's... the most elegant: the silver caterpillar on the brim, the sort of caterpillar-like frieze that adorns Christmas trees. I made it into the shape of a marquise's three-cornered hat and put it on the head.Thankfully my ears were there so the hat didn't fall over my eyes.I must look like a marquis who has lost his wig!As for the shirts, I'd be naive if I thought I could get away with it. I found a big lace swatch catalog in the trash!So, I put one or a few lace patterns on the opening of the jacket every day.people say:

"Oh Gigi, your shirt is so beautiful!" I humbly lower my eyes and feel sorry for having such a beautiful thing!But I didn't dare to show off, and I trembled at the thought of someone looking closely, or some joking tugging on it. Now I understand that no one has ever been fooled by me.People in that era probably did good deeds every day, and no one ever made fun of my shirt and hat. I know the hat is funny, but I'm not at all embarrassed.I'd do it with my ass on my head just to be able to go to Ratonda! Because it was packed with a group of impressive people, I never get tired of watching it.I keep my eyes open for them: philistine women, models, curious middle-class women, politicians, artists of faith and energy, painters with a penchant for profiteering, and so on.

People from all over the world are there, and it can be said that they have all kinds of colors. Papa Lipion - that's what everyone calls the boss, he can't help laughing every time he sees me!Now, I have the right to walk straight into the inner hall, thanks to this hat that will never be forgotten!Ah!Everyone recognized me from afar! As for me, I feel like a duck to water.The painters accepted me.It's over, worry!I still often go hungry, but talking and laughing makes people forget about hunger.I have rediscovered my Burgundian optimism! Nothing would surprise me any more.I remember one time when Utrillo escaped from his home and went straight to his old place, Café Rotonda.

He sat down in front of me, chatting and drawing my portrait. I held my posture stiffly, like a stuffed animal!Ten minutes later, he put down the pencil and paper.I looked over, oh!Suddenly stunned!It was a beautiful country house, with a little garden!I can't even say a word! Now, when I think about it, I think I understand a lot.I am, and always will be, a purebred redneck, as my mother once said with despair: "You'll always have a lump of mud behind your heel." "You bastard! You're a bum now...and always a bum," she said, thinking she'd stab me. My mud, I don't dislike it.I think, if one day this mud is gone, my health will go with it.

Later, I did a lot of stupid things, and I felt that my health was leaving me day by day, but as long as I thought of my hometown, I was saved.At the end of the day, all it took was a few days of fresh air to go back home and I was able to find myself again. Luodongda, this precious land, going there is like going home, everyone is like a family.Papa Lipion was really a standout, and he loved these urchin artists. There have been quite a few strange scenes in this café. For example, when it was time to deliver the bread, all the hungry ghosts would be there. The bread delivery person put more than 20 large loaves of bread in rattan baskets by the bar counter, but the loaves were too long, with a full third sticking out: Oh!They don't show up for long.It's just a turn around--Papa Lipion always has to move away for a moment at a time like this--just a turn-around, and in the blink of an eye, all the loaves are shortened.

Then, as if nothing had happened, they all walked out the door, each with a piece of bread in his pocket.It's like this every time! Papa Lipion was furious, saying that he wanted revenge and wanted to call the police... The next day, it was the same again.That's nothing!At that time, you could go to any artist’s studio, and you could always find a lot of souvenirs from Rotonda: plates, forks, knives, plates... Many families started to set up like this!The dowry is provided by Papa Lipion! One day, the two smarties learned that the food storage was piled up next to the phone.Just one person climbs up the door panel and passes the package to the other.Finally one day, Papa Lipion felt that they had gone too far.

Just as the first climbed up on the door panel and turned his back to hand a pile of goodies to his accomplice, Papa Lipion sneaked up, grabbed the second man by the arm, and pulled him away, leaving the first He didn't turn his face away, and continued to pass sugar, coffee, and so on. At last he said: "There, old chap! That's it, oh, that's enough!" Father Lipion replied, "Of course, you can come down." Hearing his voice, the righting glasses on top (he is nearsighted!) was about to take a closer look, but in a panic, fell from above.His complexion was ashen, and that accomplice's complexion was no better than his.

Papa Lipion grabbed each of them by the ear and led them to the bar without saying a word.The scene was really tragic, and everyone anxiously waited for the next moment. Finally, Dad lost his temper: "Fuck you bastards! I want to show you some color." After venting his anger, he turned around and said loudly to the barman: "Give 'em two double sandwiches, two cups of coffee with cream. Eat! Bastard!" Two bad guys in their thirties with tears in their eyes.Really, to do this to such a good man! Why!The "little ones," as Papa Lipion said, he knew them and loved them!

No matter what they did, he never made a fuss.However, in the end it was always him who was right. One day a group of young painters invited him to a celebratory dinner because a friend had won his first big deal. Modigliani finally found a patron who offered him a good price for one of his paintings: several hundred francs.It was decided to spend the money and have a good meal. On the day of supper, Father Lipion and his jovial gang all came.Modigliani looked uncomfortable.In fact, from chairs, knives, wine glasses, plates to coffee table, Papa Lipion recognized that they were all his things! He stood up, said nothing, and left!Modigliani scolded his partner: "Idiot, you have to bring him here? I like him as much as you do, but I didn't invite him because of these things—all these tableware were taken from him!" Everyone looked at each other and felt very nervous.A few minutes passed, and everyone lost their appetite to eat!Finally, the door opened.All eyes turned this way, what did they see: Papa Lipion was back again, he looked struggling, with several bottles of wine in his arms! "The only wine here is not mine, so I went back to get it. Come on, let's eat, I'm as hungry as a wolf!" You must think this is a made-up story!But, I assure you, there is no exaggeration in this.You only have to ask the regulars who went to Rotonda in those days, and they can tell no differently than this.