10-I-2000.
On sixth, made this shot of Brlja and Rick. They're both quite tall and this was a measuring off. The guy on the left is Larry. This was the sideroom, not connected to the rest of the office, unless we count the common hall, which we shared with those court typists and perhaps one more company, and the in-house network. Apart from Rick and me, the other guy in the room was Ted, a good guy with, perhaps, some psychological trouble which he managed to overcome with some training, and sometimes Martha.
On that day I finally finished that app inventory of 09-X-1999., and then it saw no use at all. That is, just looking at the code I recalled what I was doing there and what was its purpose, that was enough of a reminder. Of the aftermath I remember nothing, whether its results were ever used.
For a while there was some fat, spectacled guy, a report writer. Don't know what happened between him and Ford, but one day he just came from the main office all fuming and bitching. That's the last we saw of him, don't remember whether he got fired or quit.
In the evening, Zero organized a dinner in Corsette, a village nearby, in the local pizzeria. Around the table were all five of us, Greg, Larry, Brlja and perhaps two more guys from the office. The star of the evening was our lithuanian Ozzie, Marcus Marvinskis, whose accent and special choice of vowels to use instead of regular ones (if anything in english can be called regular). He told, at length, of how they play cricket for hours - there's no set time, it's played until some score is achieved - and then get drunk on beer and go wild. Involves taking shirts off, lots of mud, getting dirty as a pig.
The bar had its display of various banknotes, and there was some promise of extra beer or whatever for anyone who brings one that isn't there already. Brlja was disappointed to see that it already displayed dinars, but at least he got a t-shirt on the house. Well, advertising it is.
His funny moment was when he was picking a pizza for himself. He didn't quite manage to make his way through the menu, so stuff was explained to him, and he flatly refused one, because „I don't like white garlic“. The point here is that onion and garlic and leek are all onions in serbian, named, respectively, crni luk (black onion), beli luk (white) and praziluk.
He was likewise food-conservative the other day when Greg took him and me to a sushi bar and ordered his favorite, sushi with a raw quail egg on top. He does that with any victim he catches. Said one of his friends claimed it was better than sex. I ate it, as if for a bet - not bad at all, but definitely not on my list of things comparable to sex. Brlja, however, flatly refused to try that, went for a few bites of something less risky, that he could at least recognize, and commented it with „aw bro gimme something concrete“. „Something concrete“ in serbian usually means meat, preferrably pork, as young as possible.
Today, went with Go to get her into the local community college. Don't really remember how we got there, because I had no car. Perhaps I tried to drive the old Poozhoe a bit, but generally didn't feel safe driving it, with a bent semiaxle and wobbly steering it was more trouble than it was worth. The enrollment cost 1800$ (which I at least have documented via bank download, the paperwork being long gone).
Brlja is here, driven around by Ted, don't know where he sleeps. He did spend a couple of nights at Greg's, one perhaps at us. He left on 12th. With this photo it says he's leaving, under that date, which sounds about right. Sounds but not necessarily is, as the tiny Seiko has no calendar, the times on the files are of download from camera to disk, not snapshot.
Mentions: 09-X-1999., Allan Robin (Ford), Gorana Sredljević (Go), Goran Staković (Brlja), Greg Reubenthal, Larry Artois, Poozhoe, Rick Netter, Zero Distance (Zero), in serbian
12-XI-2017 - 25-III-2026