Chapter 4 third chapter

do not speak do not tell me because it hurts me No Doubt, from Dont Speak (Tragic Kingdom, 1996) Walking into MIU, Mulder asked me how this morning was going. "Not bad. We can even laugh." "That's all right. How is Carmen feeling now?" Mulder is my ex-girlfriend. We were together in 1988, 1989.Mulder was a model who realized—years after her agent—that she couldn't make it.She then gave up modeling career, but also gave up dieting.Her waistline got bigger, her cups doubled in size, and Mulder started working in the hotel and restaurant industry. When MIU was recruiting a secretary, I convinced Frank to give her a chance. Mulder was proactive and not stupid, but it was her bra size that turned the MIU decision, and even Frank noticed it.Mulder got the job.

Mulder and I would still have secret trysts during the first few years of our relationship with Carmen, but then she wanted to end it.She thought Carmen was too good.Now, we still sometimes kiss each other because of the old friendship, and after the Christmas party last year, we were behind the curtains in the corner of the office, and things got a little out of hand, (not the British people imagine), but we stopped there .Later, she even started berating me for being unfaithful, which she never did when we were together. (For example) She once spilled a glass of rosé on Sharon's white dress because she was too intimate when she greeted me at Piersvoag.Basically I do agree with Mulder's argument that it's time for me to stop being unfaithful.According to Mulder, I'm now risking the best love of my life.After experimenting and confirming, I came to the conclusion: We drink, we get drunk, and then everything goes back to normal.I am still a fear of loneliness.

Mulder was devastated when he heard that Carmen had breast cancer. "It's fine. They gave her a bunch of anti-nausea." "Where is she now?" "At home. Her mother's there too." At the same time, I turned on my computer and I didn't want to talk about cancer anymore. "Did Holland Casino call and agree with our estimates?" Frank shook his head. it is good.This gave me a chance to completely vent. "Fuck, call them! We're not waiting for someone to come to our door, are we? Call the bastard yourself! God, do I have to do everything in this fucking place?"

Frank ignored my bombardment. Meanwhile I open the email from Carmen ten minutes ago: Sender: Carmen Sent time: Tuesday, May 4, 1999 14:29 Recipient: Danny Subject: Baby—— Hi, baby I feel a little nauseous, but not too bad.I just wanted to say that I'm so glad you're going with me, that I won't be alone in my treatment. carmen p.s. i love you baby I got up immediately, without looking at Frank, and went straight to the bathroom.Once in the bathroom, the tears I had been trying to control all day poured out. A few minutes later I wiped away my tears, blew my nose, washed my face, looked in the mirror to see if I looked normal — pretended to flush the toilet, sighed again, and went back to the office.

Eight colleagues acted as if nothing had happened. after many years when i get old and lose my hair Will you still send me valentines, birthday wishes, wine when i was sixty-four Will you still need me, will you still support me? The Beatles, from When Im Sixty-Four (Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band, 1967) Carmen's mother answered the phone, "Hello?" "Hi, I'm Danny. How's Carmen?" "She threw up badly this morning and is now asleep." "Okay. I'll pick up Luna from daycare and drop by the supermarket. Do you want anything?"

"Oh, anything, ready-made food or something." "Do you think Carmen would want anything?" Carmen's mother laughed, "Another bucket?" Carmen's mother was an amiable person.She grew up in Jordan, working class in Amsterdam.She's still charismatic, let's be honest.I don't know Carmen's father.He ran away from home ten years ago, left his wife and family who had been married for 21 years, and only left a note on the small dining table in the kitchen.Carmen's mother was unwilling to be lonely, and made a new boyfriend Bob a month later. Carmen recognized that Bob was the master who helped their family decorate the house before.Carmen's mother was fifty-four, Bob sixty, and Carmen twenty-seven.Carmen's first words to him were: "What does your father do?" Now Bob the Builder is a thing of the past.A few months after he finished the building work on Carmen's mother's new house and made sure it was in perfect condition, Carmen's mother began to wonder if she really loved him enough.Bob is out.Now Carmen's mother lives alone again, in a beautifully converted house in Pumarende.Sometimes she brings her boyfriends home, but won't let them stay overnight, "my house won't need a makeover in ten years or so," she says in self-mocking.

In the supermarket near my home, I saw an old couple, probably in their eighties, walking slowly by the wine rack, arm in arm.The old man pointed to a special bottle of red wine with his cane, and his wife picked it up and put it in the shopping basket in her hand.He said something to her which I didn't hear.The old woman laughed shrilly and squeezed her husband's arm.I grabbed Luna's hand tightly, quickly looked away, and looked elsewhere. This old couple who are still in love makes me jealous.Carmen and I can never do this together again. all the things that seemed important at the time

It's all gone now Bruce Springsteen, from The River (The River, 1980) The anti-emetics had no effect, and for two full days Carmen had been very ill. Things got better from Thursday night onwards.Neither of us even cried all evening. Carmen returned to the advertising agency on Friday, and daily life continued.Before the next chemo, for about two weeks, we tried to act like everything was normal, even though we all knew we were faking it. The heavenly life is far away from us. Do you feel things you've never felt before Oasis, from Sunday Morning Call (Standing on the Shoulders of Giants, 2000)

"Hi, I'm Gilda. Are you two coming together? That's fine," said the therapist, shaking our hands for a long time.I could see that Gilda was one of those people who always liked to sit at a table, even when there were plenty of comfortable chairs in the room. "Yes, we think it's a good idea," Carmen replied. I don't think it's a good idea at all, I think it's even worse than chemo.Never in my life would I have thought of seeing a psychotherapist. Gilda's consultation room was a small room, about six square meters, with two low chairs—"low chairs are better for talking than high chairs"—a cushion, an old-fashioned lamp, and a long table with a flat vintage tape recorder on it.A Youku that looks like the first one I ever used.The first cassette I ever owned, I think, was Nick Lowe's "I Love the Sound of Breaking Glass."Oh yes, and "Spirit Killer" by the face-up chorus.

Gilda apologized for the small room, "Fortunately, I'll have a separate room soon, bigger and with windows to let the sunlight in, but for now we'll just have to make do with it. I don't have Coffee, I don't like coffee, I'd rather drink tea. Would you like sugar?" She poured tea, then went to the table and sat down in the low chair.Carmen sat on the other low chair and I sat on the cushion. "So." Gilda began talking in what seemed to me a form of duty-driven therapy. "Yes." Carmen said. "Then let's begin!" "OK."

To be honest, I didn't expect Carmen to enter the state so soon.I kept trying not to look impatient, afraid that Gilda would read my face and feel restless.But she was very polite. "Do you find it difficult to sit down with a therapist and talk about a disease that kills you? Have you ever wondered, now, in the prime of your life? " Hey!Stop here for a while!Gilda knew exactly what she was going to do.I was stunned and looked at Carmen.Yes, the tears came out again.I grabbed her hand tightly and began to stroke.During the weeks Carmen had cancer, I spent more time stroking her hand than in the past seven years combined.Gilda didn't say anything, and I looked at Carmen's hand, which was in mys, and it hurt. My wife had cancer and was probably going to die, and I wanted to cry, but I couldn't.I leaned toward Carmen, felt the therapist's eyes on my back, and knew she might have made a judgment: he didn't love her because he hadn't shed a single tear. "Come on, Carmen," said Gilda after a while. Carmen said that the past few weeks have been like falling from heaven to hell. Before that, everything was fine, the three of us, we were very happy, but suddenly, bang, bang, bang, it was over. "I think about it all the time now," she said to Gilda. It was news to me, but obviously I couldn't let Gilda see it.In my case, I can go hours without thinking about it.Most of the day, from the moment I walk into MIU in the morning, I don't think about it.I thought Carmen was the same as me.Take yesterday for example, yesterday evening was like the evening before cancer.Luna is asleep. "Would you like some tea?" Carmen was lying on the big couch with Elle magazine in her hand, and I was in front of the TV. Everything was fine.Of course, I try to avoid any awkward topics and only ask non-emotional questions. "A syrupy Waffle or a cake, baby?" "Would you like a shot of mineral water or a shot of wine?" "Shall we watch The Sopranos or a French pay-per-view movie?" "Have you noticed anything over the past few days that calms you down?" Gilda asked. Carmen thought for a while. "Maybe when you're playing with Luna, or putting her to bed?" I reminded, boldly trying to change my image in Gilda's eyes from a man who doesn't shed tears for his wife to a sympathetic, A loving companion. "No," Carmen said, shaking her head violently, "that always reminds me that I may never see my little one grow up." That box of tissues on Gilda's desk is overworked.God, how could I say such stupid things?My toes curled up in shame.Just hang out, Danny. “I do remember, though: last weekend, when I was working in the yard, it did calm down a bit,” Carmen said.Now it was Gilda's turn to make Carmen cry, but Gilda did it on purpose and I said the wrong thing. "But then you have to wonder, will you see these plants growing next year—" O Almighty Lord.Now that Carmen's floodgates are fully flung open, Gilda says what we didn't even dare to think about: Carmen might not have a year left.We agreed to chemotherapy and hid ourselves from thinking about that catastrophic scene. Now it's my turn.Gilda must have turned on me too. "And you, Dan, be honest, don't you wonder: What did I do wrong to be punished like this?" Shocked. Carmen, Frank, Mulder, Thomas, and Annie couldn't stir my emotions, while Gilda succeeded in my first session with me.She hit the nail on the head and hit the nail on the head.I didn't tell anyone or let anyone see it, but it's true.I don't think cancer hit me as hard as it hit Carmen, and Gilda spoke from my heart. I lowered my head, nodded, and felt my eyes wet.Why the hell am I doing this, letting Gilda hit my heart for the first time?Damn, I should be able to make a good image and make Gilda pretend to cry when she sees how much I love Carmen.Why now instead, when Gilda began to dig deep into my emotions, I broke down.Why is it now that I lose control and want to cry?I'm sure Gilda will think I'm a selfish bastard pretending to sympathize with my wife's situation.With my head down and the tissue Carmen handed me in my hand, I burst into tears. "Are you feeling guilty because you feel like it's been unfair to you as well?" Gilda asked. "Yes—a little—" I sniffled, deeply ashamed of myself.In the past few weeks, a voice in my head has been telling me that I read Simonton's bad books, go to the doctor every time to discuss diagnosis and treatment, and accompany Carmen to chemotherapy twice, these are nothing at all.The woman with the thinning hair wasn't there for the second chemotherapy session—on vacation?cured?give up?died? —so her husband wasn't there either.The boy was wearing the Gatsby hat again, but his girlfriend wasn't with him.It was as if none of the things I was doing could compare to my endless, impure motives for self-gratification and pleasure.Like a pedophile trying to suppress himself for many years and still feel guilty about having dirty thoughts about children. "You don't need this, Danny, it's even more unfair to you than it is to me," Carmen interrupted suddenly. It took me a while to understand what she was saying, and I looked at her in surprise. "Yes," Carmen went on, "you're healthy, you never wanted to be, but now you're sitting with a wife who's been crying and grieving, and—" she sniffled, and waited a moment, "— —she's about to go bald." I know she means it.She really thought it was unfair to me.for me. The situation couldn't get any crazier than this.Two weeks after cancer, I realized two things: 1.Cancer wife is full of guilt because she made this happen to her husband. 2.The wife has cancer, and the husband is filled with guilt because he feels too pitiful for himself. Then we wailed for a while, very tenderly, and we both hugged each other. "Very well," said Gilda. She said next time we would do Simonton's meditation practice. "I think that would be good for you. That kind of practice teaches you to use your brain to fight cancer." Carmen nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world. "We're going to use visualization to help," Gilda continued. I wisely keep my mouth shut. "The visualization method will also help you feel better and calm down." "Yes, it should be very suitable for me." Carmen nodded. I nodded too, although I didn't think Carmen was very calm as she threw Simonton's book in the living room. "If you do these exercises, I'll record them and you can take the tapes home," Gilda said, pointing to the tape recorder, "and then next week, you can do them at home." "That, uh—sounds good," Carmen said. "The other thing I want you two to do is draw"—she said "both"—"draw what you think of a tumor in your breast."—I've heard over the years that clients most Empty briefing, most boring marketing, now to settle the ledger - "You can join in, Dan, just imagine the tumor in Carmen's breast" - just - "Then imagine how chemotherapy got into Carmen body to kill cancer cells" - Python!I was in the Monty Python comedy - "Then try to draw what comes to your mind -" - someone was talking bullshit and that's what I came up with. "Does this suit you, Carmen?" "Yes, I—I think so." "You too, Dan?" "Yes, that seems like a good idea." "Okay, then, next week!" "Yes, next week." She shook hands with both of us. "Goodbye, Carmen! Goodbye, Dan." "Goodbye," we shouted back. In the elevator, I took a quick, careful look at Carmen, who was laughing. Thankfully, she's still in her head. Seems kind of funny to me at the end of every suffering People can find reasons to believe Bruce Springsteen, from Reason to Believe (Nebraska, 1982) But I must admit that the conversation with Gilda was good for us. This gave me and Carmen a great idea to let each other know how we felt.This way I can tell Carmen: I don't want to go to Bloomingdales this summer, I want to shoot Dr. Walters in the left chest with a dart, and I feel good every time I go to MIU because it's a cancer-free place.Carmen also told me honestly that she really couldn't take it anymore, and she was terrified at the thought of needles for several days before the next chemotherapy. The topics that were originally taboo can now be discussed, such as the spread of cancer cells, chest removal and death, etc. Suddenly, a sentence that I once read in Dr. Simonton’s book flashed in my mind: Pessimistic thoughts are not important. It cannot help the condition get better.In his chapters of "Mental Power Can Affect Disease", "Health is in Your Hands" and "Scientific Research", he once again proves that you must have a cheerful mood to defeat cancer. But sometimes life is simple: if everything goes against us, and Simonton can easily, with American indifference, forget all the numbers, forget about survival rates, then Simonton is our friend.So, for the past few weeks, we've been telling anyone who will listen that Simonton's positive thinking, meditation training, and visualization approach to fighting cancer is scientifically proven (although, to be honest, I'm not telling Anyone about Gilda Let's Draw).If anyone were to be the champion of positive thinking, it would be Carmen. We were right, everyone said so. If anyone can stand up to it, it's Carmen. We tell everyone that the mind is stronger than the body.What am I talking about - more power than body!We will do it!We will bravely face the days ahead, and all those who love us will support us.Hallelujah, Simonton! Blonde, as if straight out of a fairy tale Bloem, from Even aan mijn moeder vragen (Vooral jong blijven, 1980) Now Carmen's hair is starting to fall out in clumps.When she woke up in the morning, there was hair all over the pillow.And since yesterday, she can pull a handful of hair from her head at once without feeling any pain. "Pay attention." When I came home in the evening, she held up her index finger and said seriously, "I've been practicing all day today—" She came over and stood in front of me with a blank expression and a look of fear on her face. She stared at me with wide eyes, bit her lips tightly, pretending not to scream, and then pulled a handful of hair from her head with both hands.A new episode of her bean repertoire. "Well, isn't it?" she said, laughing out loud. At night, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror with her head down, taking a picture and saying: "It's really rare now, isn't it?" "Well, but there's still a lot left." "No, it won't be long. Look at this," she said, and pulled a lock of hair from the top of her head.I saw a patch of one centimeter without a single hair. "Yes, you can only see it when you part your hair, and it's okay—" She was hardly listening. "I don't think I can keep going. I'm scared that in the future I'll go back to work, or be in a bar, and people will see it." She was very angry and she was crying again.Mr. Bean has left our house. "What do you want?" I asked. The moment I've been dreading for weeks is coming. "Shall we just shave?" she said hesitantly. "Do you want me to do this?" I said, looking at her in the mirror. Hold back.do i really think so "Can you—do you want to do this?" she asked nervously, almost awkwardly. I don't know how I did it, but I smiled and nodded. "Of course I would do it for you." She looked at herself in the mirror again, and after a while, she said, "That's it." "Okay," I said, and pulled out the electric shaver from the cupboard next to the mirror. "What do you want to do?" she asked uncertainly. "First the razor, then the scissors?" "Yeah, I guess that's the best way, no? It's smooth and I don't want to have itchy scalp after putting on a wig." I picked up a white handkerchief and spread it on her shoulders, while she was still looking at herself in the mirror.I looked at her like a professional hairdresser.Where exactly should I start, can anyone tell me?Anyway, start from the back so she doesn't see the first bare scalp directly when I take the razor.Yes, from the back. "Here we go, honey." I took a deep breath, turned on the electric knife, and shaved off a section about four centimeters wide, starting from the nape of her neck.At the same time, I kissed her on the cheek.She saw her long hair falling on the handkerchief in the mirror, covered her mouth with her hand, and cried.I choked up, but my hands didn't stop, and I kissed her every time I pushed the knife.We didn't say anything. Ten minutes later, Carmen was bald. You can hide yourself and lick your wounds wasted summer in vain prayers Bruce Springsteen, from Thunder Road (Born To Run, 1975) "Ah - the damn thing is tickling and totally driving me crazy!" I looked up from the music magazine. Our backyard is very hot.The high fence built by the neighbors on one side blocked the wind, only the small pond at the end of the garden near the Amsterdam forest, sometimes the wind blows, but we almost never go there.Going there, it feels like being in the depths of the forest, very unnatural.Sometimes Luna and I go there to feed the ducks, other times we barely walk over there.We had very big parasols in the garden, but even I got hot without a wig, let alone Carmen. The spiked wig, that's what Carmen has called her wig since yesterday.She has been wearing it for a week, and the weather was about 17 degrees and rainy, which is not suitable for going to the beach, but it is acceptable to her.Since yesterday, the temperature has risen above 20 degrees, and she can't bear it anymore. "Can't you take it off?" "No, Mulder may bring Luna back anytime." Luna stayed overnight at Mulder's house last night, and today she wants to go to the zoo.When Mulder and I offered to take her, I couldn't ask for more.Another chemo session on Tuesday, Carmen just felt better over the weekend, and I was utterly exhausted.Taking care of Carmen and Luna full-time for three days, and taking a little time to go to MIU to deal with work during the period, exhausted me.Thanks to Mulder, I slept in this morning, and now I have so much energy that I even want to go to the dance party at the beach music bar in the afternoon.So far, I haven't told Carmen about my bad idea. "Huh? Isn't this your house? Everyone has to get used to the fact that you're bald," I said.Then I said as unintentionally as possible, "By the way, Mulder won't be here very long, she wants to go to the dance at the beach music bar this afternoon. In Bloomingdale's, you know. Again this afternoon it has started." "I don't even want to think about it," Carmen said unemotionally. "I don't want you either. I don't want to be home alone with Luna." "No, I have no plans to go, honey." I lied.Hold. "Okay, just to let you know." She looked at the fashion magazine in her hand without looking up. "Yes—didn't I say there was no such plan?" silence. "Oh, damn it!" she exclaimed, scratching at the wig with her fingers. "God, Ka, take that damn thing down!" "No! I don't want to look funny. Remember that." You must know it yourself, I thought. A few minutes later the doorbell rang.I got up and went to open the door. "She's a pain in the ass," Mulder said.She strokes Luna's hair.The little girl fell asleep in her pram. Mulder stayed for another hour or so.She was going home, changed into her hippest outfit, was already excited at the thought of going to the beach music bar, and Carmen chatted and laughed with her.I laughed too. "Frank and a few others from MIU are going too," Mulder said. "We'll have a good time at home too," Carmen said. I didn't do anything, I didn't do anything just stay here I look out the window from time to time i fidget I look into the distance pick up beer play the flute De Dijk, from Bloedend hart (De Dijk, 1982) "Now?" I asked. On the bed lay a pair of scissors, a box of thick gel bandages, like a pizza box, a few loose bandages that had been cut.There is also a young, naked, bald woman with one beautiful and healthy breast and the other full of blisters, wounds, burnt skin in various colors, yellow, pink, purple, red , Fuchsia.The black line drawn five weeks ago for radiation therapy is still visible through this volcanic scene. Carmen tilted her head to look at the part of the breast that hadn't been bandaged yet. The bandage had gel on one side to keep the burned skin from sticking to the bandage the next time the bandage was changed.She cupped the bandaged breast with one hand and pointed to the bandage with the other. "I remember that the nurse seemed to stick it here. If the sticking position is wrong, the bandage will wrinkle." "Okay, how long do you want to cut?" "Oh, about five centimeters, I think?" After Carmen had undergone four rounds of chemotherapy, Dr. Schetema seemed somewhat elated.The cancer cells in Carmen's blood showed signs of shrinking, and the tumors in her breasts shrunk slightly.Shetema even used the word "surgery" in conversation. "But first, we need to make sure that the tumor in the breast is smaller, otherwise there is a risk that the operation could seep into the skin. That would only make things worse," she said.She had consulted with the radiologist at Anthony Van Ravenhoek Hospital, who also agreed with Schetma: radiation therapy.For seven weeks we went to Anthony van Ravenhoek Hospital every day.Then discuss how to proceed next. The first four weeks of radiation therapy were a walk in the park compared to the problems after each chemo session, but after twenty sessions, Carmen's skin began to peel off, just as the radiation therapist had predicted. "Do you think I need to cut it longer?" "Well—no, this will do—" Carmen said nervously. "Stop! Stop!" I inadvertently touched her sore, burning breast skin and she freaked out.I put the scissors down, and, biting the tip of my tongue between my lips, I carefully removed one piece of bandage, then took the other and pressed it gently against the breast without pressure.Then put another piece on the side.everything will be fine.The breasts are now tightly packed. Carmen inspects my handiwork. "That's right," she nodded, "very good, thank you." I wipe the sweat off my forehead, put the protective film and leftover bandages back in the box, and throw the trash in the bathroom trash can.When I got back, Carmen was asleep, tired from the radiation treatment. The alarm clock on the bedside table showed that it was half past eight, and it was still bright outside.At eight o'clock last night, she went to bed a quarter of an hour after Luna went to bed.I went to bed with her but by midnight I was still awake. I walked over gently and kissed her forehead.Whisper "Good night, baby" in her ear. I went downstairs and got a bottle of beer from the fridge.However, in fact, I would rather have a glass of rosé wine.I put the beer back, opened a bottle of rosé, and grabbed a bag of pancakes from the pantry.I check for text messages.There is one, from Ramon. Ramon was Frank's assistant accountant when I met Frank at Bonneville.Frank has too much style and Ramon has too little style.He was as solid as a brick house, and you felt only poor or effeminate in his presence.Ramon was certainly not a effeminate man.He's proud of his body and, it has to be admitted, he does.It made him overconfident, and sometimes he could get aggressive if he was in a bad mood or if someone accidentally bumped into him (or his car or his beer).Ramon isn't actually a true friend like Frank and Thomas are, but we're of the same type. Ramon is very fond of clubs like Bastille, Jup Feast Bar and Surprise Bar.I only know one other person who is as disturbed as he is, and that is myself.Another thing we have in common is that Ramon is as open to women as I am.We are a see-all-take-all approach and don't let responsibility get in the way.Ramon and I think temperance is just a virtue for people who always come up empty handed.The last thing we have in common is that we both come from the South: I'm from Brad and Ramon is from Chile.When he was nine years old, his father fled to the Netherlands with his family.Ramon's father was a schoolteacher, too smart for the Pinochet regime.The family settled down southeast of Amsterdam.At that time, he knew friends who were drug dealers and drug addicts. Because he didn't want to become that kind of person in the future, he worked hard to study and went to college, and after graduation he was determined to break out of the world.Ten years later, Ramón, not Frank, was appointed head of the Bonneville advertising agency.Frank couldn't deal with suddenly having a good-looking jerk like Ramon as his boss, so he quit.Since then, as long as Ramon is around, he has been showing off MIU marketing strategy company, and there is no end to it like a commercial.Ramon says he has no idea what Frank (or anyone on the planet) is thinking. Are we still going to Leidseplein on Friday?he wants to know. I replied to him: nonsense, of course go! Since Carmen started chemo, I've given up my weekly evening football game at Wardle Park, and I've stopped drinking at the pub after get off work, but there's nothing stopping me from going wild on Friday nights. But it's only Tuesday, and I don't have the energy.I turn on the TV and Yourin is doing a rerun of "Brother" that aired earlier tonight.I've seen it, we always turn on the TV at seven these days.Gotta do something. RTL is showing a movie Thomas would love to see starring Jean-Claude Van Damme.I texted him and asked if he was watching. SBS6 is broadcasting the FA Cup match between Everton and Southampton.I watched for a while.Garbage game.There is a French film on the French pay station, nothing to watch.Watching MTV again, man, it's playing R&B, and the sports news I want to watch doesn't come until 11:15 . I picked up the newspaper from the floor and read halfway through the supplementary article on Amsterdam's transport system.In the desk drawer is a copy of Harry Mullich's Discovery of Paradise, which I've been scrambling through for the last two months, reaching page 67.I opened the book in disgust, reached page 71, sighed, and put the book away.Ah, a text message!Thomas, who said he was actually watching that movie, asked how Carmen was doing. I replied that Carmen was already asleep because all the radiation had left her exhausted, and I was so bored that I was about to cry.Before sending, I deleted the sentence about me being bored.Because Thomas would lie on the sofa every night when he came home, and Anne couldn't understand why. I poured another glass of wine and switched on the teletext. 601 pages, not much news. 703 pages, nice weather this week.That's all it takes.Back to SBS, still 0-0.Look at the Amsterdam station, oh my god, it's so boring to have a woman counting all the roads in Amsterdam.At the same time, I turned on my computer and opened Outlook. I didn't click on the four emails about inflammatory breast cancer from the American chat group, but I opened the email from Anne first.How is Carmen today?This letter was left to be answered by Carmen herself tomorrow. Hakan sent Frank, Ramon, and me a group email saying he was going to Miami with us the last weekend in October. There was also a reply from Frank saying that we better book early and giving us the website of the hotel, saying that this hotel is very nice and run by the president of Diesel. Hakan.Turkey's second generation.Successful and promising.Motto: Dress well, make a good impression.What we have in common is our Bernieville background, and a strong interest in football and women.That's enough, between men, it's enough to make us very good friends. The next reply was Hakan's again.He heard that the hotel was outdated.I replied to them that I don't care at all which hotel I stay in, as long as I go.I missed the sports news because Carmen's mom called and asked how Carmen was.It was exactly a quarter to eleven.I don't want to sleep at all.I checked the Bol.com website, and the new song from Street Preacher is gone.I click order.A CD by Hawkeye Jerry with a song that Carmen really likes.purchase.You see, going out is much cheaper than staying at home.I poured another glass of rosé and took the pancakes away so I wouldn't eat the whole bag out of boredom. A quarter past eleven.法国收费台的色情片半个小时后开始。我拿起两本杂志翻阅，发现里面有段文学来自西门顿博士的《治愈之旅》。我看了一刻钟。发现卡门两本书都已经看过了。我将喝了四分之三的酒放回冰箱。清理桌子，打开洗碗机，铺好卢娜的小桌子，明早好用，走回起居室。今晚是意大利色情片，她们大都是长着真乳房的漂亮女孩，我不喜欢美国的色情明星做大的假乳房。我和卡门在这一点上达成绝对一致：宁愿要真的大乳房，下垂一点也没有关系。已经有好几个月我们放弃了我们俩一起对电视里乳房的科学分析。卡门无意看到法国收费台的色情片时，她会立刻换台。对卡门来说，色情片已经过时了。对我来说不是。我看了两个场景，自己解决了生理需求。大约十分钟以后，我躺在卡门身旁睡着了。 我承认，当我孤独难耐时 会去找她们寻求一些慰藉 Simon and Garfunkel,from The Boxer(Sound of Silence,1970) 卡门几乎不认识拉蒙。他们只在伯尼维的派对上见过几次。拉蒙对卡门的印象非常好。（“嘿，朋友，什么时候交换伴侣怎么样？”“别闹。我可不敢想像他们做爱的样子。”） 他从来没有来过我们家。我们总是在帕尔迪莫的莱登广场见面。 帕尔迪莫。早好几年，阿贾克斯的球员就带他们的女友去那儿了。谣传甚至威姆?琼克也曾经在这里得手。 在那我们聊伯尼维和MIU聊了半个小时，欣赏那些充满活力的年轻女孩，这样的女孩帕尔迪莫到处都是，然后我们去让我们这些三十几岁的肥胖男人更感自在的狩猎场所：巴士底。 在巴士底，人们意识到生活中没有什么比规律更重要，所以他们至少每刻钟就会弹奏一次安德雷?哈泽斯的曲子。顾客基本上是三十至四十岁离异的中年女子，从她们脸上的浓妆和日光浴晒出的古铜肤色，就能轻易分辨出来，而且也很容易勾搭上。 一进巴士底，我们就开始惯常行动了。我们看到吧台边有一小圈女人在喝鸡尾酒。拉蒙和一个系着莫斯奇诺腰带的女孩搭讪，我与另一个聊，她的上衣在卡门看来肯定是露得过多（我倒觉得适合她），她的屁股相对于她身上的裙子是太大了（这连我都看出来了）。然而在巴士底的环境里，这算不得低俗。我们闲聊调情，开始接吻。一个小时之后，我第三次问她名字，第二次问她是否住在阿姆斯特丹。我无法逃避我的魅力在减退这个事实。她提到，她有一个男朋友，她的女朋友们也在这。然后她开始说这里人多得出奇，去洗手间她都要排队等上十分钟，等到之后还要付钱。我的脑子里的抱怨声已经够多了。我问拉蒙他和他的同伴是否想和我一起去惊奇酒吧。他摇头，我耸耸肩，离开了巴士底。 惊奇酒吧是巴士底的前厅。来惊奇吧的女人比巴士底最起码要年轻十岁。那些刚和男朋友分手的女孩，还有那些心血来潮想放纵一下的女孩。她们一般都有伴，通常都是分手同病相怜者。她们一周通常会来两三次（三点以后会一起去冷静酒吧或珠普盛宴酒吧）。在这她们很快就会被殷勤的酒吧侍应盯上，她们适当花点钱——花钱的多少是来惊奇酒吧女性地位的象征——她们被允许把手提袋和外套放在吧台后面。酒吧侍应会免费招待女孩和她的朋友，每次她们来他就眨眼。极其实用的一种方法，因为这种女孩来的越多，来酒吧的男人就越多。很快这个女孩就爱上了来惊奇酒吧的某位男士。出于形式的缘故，这对情侣会继续来惊奇酒吧，但次数越来越少，最终他们会一起坐在位于阿尔梅勒的新家的沙发上。几年以后，他们离婚了，然后就轮到巴士底了。这就是莱顿广场聪明地重复使用顾客的方式。 我在惊奇酒吧待了十分钟。显然，即使是在惊奇吧，我看起来也像是一只发情的狒狒。女孩们不予理睬。那么，我应该去帕拉迪索跳舞自娱自乐吗？还是——哦，该死。 “卢斯岱卡德。”我对出租司机说。 出于羞愧，我没有让出租车司机在有妓女的那边让我下车，而是在运河的上游，假装去住宅区。当出租车开走看不见了以后，我横过马路，来回走了三次之后，我发现晚上这个时间还在上班的女人都是些次等品。最后我选了一个非洲女人，她穿着一件黑色睡衣，相对于她的丰乳来说睡衣显得太小了。她脱了衣服之后，双乳下垂了大概五厘米，但是是双乳，至少有两个，而且没有灼伤。 半个小时以后，我回到家，在客厅脱了衣服，轻声上楼爬上床。 “高兴吗？”卡门带着睡意问。 “嗯。聊天、跳舞。和拉蒙一起出去很好。” “嗯——”她的声音很温暖，“太好了。你应该好好放松。” 在黑暗中，我吻了她的脸颊。 “晚安，我的至爱。” “晚安，我最好的朋友。” 为什么男人都喜欢胸部 为什么如此感兴趣 说真的，不过就是胸部 每两个人就有一个人有 它们看起来都一样 它们是用来哺乳的 你的母亲也有 你肯定看过上万次 有什么大惊小怪的 Notting Hill(1999)