In the garden of the hotel "Vojvodina" we finish our third beer, dipping the fries, staked on burned matches (the karafindl lacked toothpicks, it seems), into the ground pepper. Salt is already there, and the extra sulphur and phosphorus are good for you. Perhaps Sleš was with us that evening, perhaps it was T.T. with whom we went once to try for more beer and rakija (see Borsalino). And, amazingly, we weren't sitting at the riverside remote corner, but halfway between the entrance and the band, close to the dance stage (which wasn't elevated, just a part where they put no tables).
About T.T. we later heard that, by the end of the evening, he got so drunk that he got up, went out in a moderately straight line, slapping himself and muttering to himself „you drunk hungarchino, scram home“.
We want to hail the waiter for the fourth beer. Not in evidence anywhere. Had we walked without paying, one would materialize instantly, but we already paid so far. Well, if we did anything untoward... (... 20 words...) No waiter anywhere. Half the audience applauds her. (... 12 words...)
Mid month we went to Novi to schedule exams and see about buying some textbooks. The first we managed to do, the books we didn't find, didn't meet anybody... let's go home slowly. Went out to hitchhike, and got lucky quite early on, but the guy dropped us at Kać, after the intersection with the belgrade road. Just as well, this way anyone can see where we mean to go, before that crossing nobody knows whether we want to [go to] Zrenjanin or Belgrade.
And so we hitch, and an Opel is approaching, passing a combine harvester along the way, we raise our thumbs, but nope, off he goes. But... the harvester stops. What now, that thing won't go far and it'll take it half an hour to reach Kać. But okay, let's, not to insult the guy who stopped a fisix tons of hardware for our sake. So we climb up... it doesn't have a cabin but rather a whole terrace, can sit five up there, and it's high... the floor is at least two meters above the ground. And he drives, and keeps trying to talk to us, but the contraprion is too noisy, can't understand a word. Fifty meters further he stops again, picks a guy with a moped, chain fell off, so not to push it uphill. Kać is a couple of meters above this stretch of the road. He hoisted the moped up the chute where it ejects... guess wheat sacks, this machine also threshes.
Driving a harvester is screwy, the front is almost three meters wide, and the wheels there are fixed, it turns by swiveling the rear wheels. And he had to pull over to the shoulder at least three times, when being passed by bigger trucks. When we arrived at the village, he turned left to the cooperative, the guy with the moped disembarks, we also start going down, but the old man takes out his wallet and offers us money. The engine is idling, it's less noisy and we hear him, „I know how it is, I also have children going to school in Novi, here's for the bus“. I go on explaining that we actually hate busses, you're screwed to that seat, can't see a live soul around, we prefer hitching...“, but nope, he's not buying it, thinks we're too proud to confess that we don't have enough for the bus fare. Then I remembered we didn't find those books, and took out the money from [my] pocket, „it's not about the money, we just love to hitchhike“. That convinced him.
Then we got lucky and got home quickly. Then at some spetember day we hitched again after some exam, and got picked up by a van, along with yet another guy. Also an experienced hitchhiker, and we started exchanging hunters' tales. This one should count as well, this was the only time in the hundred cars I went through while studying that a van stops and takes three. But the guy had a better one than that, he hitchhiked a circus. A wagon stopped, he climbed in the back, and there was a monkey and a black guy. Said the black was funnier, a profi clown, knows hundred tricks. But when he heard that we hitchhiked a harvester, he passed the crown to us.
22-V-2021 - 31-X-2025