Jumalik suuremeelsus
Tulen mina narkost. Näituse tänava kahendast majast. Suundun Vana Peeru tänava lõunakallast mööda Jott Liivi uulitsa manu. Mingist hoovist läbi. Nagu ainult Tartu tudengid seda teevad. Maja kuulub vist kah miskile teadusasutusele. Või vähemast selle esimese korrusel paikneb miski, mis vajab läikivat silti. Ma kunagi loen, et mis'se ütleb.
Vot. Ja siis selle ukse taga kellavad kaks mustas ülikonnas noormeest kolla-metalsete siltidega hõlmas. Edutult. Ei saa. Sisse. Mormoonid või jehoovatunnistajad. Kes iganes. Jõuan mina neist mööda, no peaaegu jõuan, kõnetab üks neist mind vene keelest. Ja täisesti automaatselt juhtub, et my first reaction to this is, "Piss off, you moron!" Which is the first thing I think of, not the first thing I say. The first thing I say is... nothing. I just go on without looking back, for I really don't want to have anything to do with some fanatical religious nutcase. Even if his friend then adresses me in Estonian about half a second later. At this point I am not really sure any more, what is more irritating, having a couple of religionfreaks speak at me when I am minding my own bloody business - strolling through somebodys front yard on a Friday afternoon - or having them do it in Russian just because of my hat. Well, you know the hat I am talking about, don't you? You pitiful little narrowminded... Estonians!
Anyways, I blow these bozos off without looking back or thinking twice and carry on. Out of this muddy hillside yard through a warn-out wooden gate, which I of course close neatly behind me, without making eyecontact to the young missionaries, sent by Him to cross paths with me on this beautiful glorious day, in order to do nothing else, but to save my soul from the eternal flames of Hell.
I blow them off, and carry on, down the Liivi street, past The Natoinal Archives building and on my way home through the passageway between the Archives and the Faculty of Mathematics building, and then around a small house what I belive to be an ex-printshop. Or whatever. And just as I am about to step off the Liivi street and around the corner of the Archives, The Man makes up His Allmighty Mind, that it wasn't really very nice of me to blow off his faithful servants Dumb and Dumber, and in the spirit of Divine Justice decides to level the playingfield a bit by blowing my hat off. Väga jumalik temast. Tõsise suurvaimu teguviis, mis ikka ilusti kätte näitab, et mäherduse kaalukategooria esindajaga tegu on! Mõtlen nüüd mina Vanamehe kiusliku tembu pääle mõnevõrra ärritununa, korjan oma kaabu Liivi tänava lombist üles, ja jätkan ökavett minema pühkides oma valitud rada pidi.
Läbi mata maja hoovi Vallikraavi tänava poole.
Vot. Ja siis selle ukse taga kellavad kaks mustas ülikonnas noormeest kolla-metalsete siltidega hõlmas. Edutult. Ei saa. Sisse. Mormoonid või jehoovatunnistajad. Kes iganes. Jõuan mina neist mööda, no peaaegu jõuan, kõnetab üks neist mind vene keelest. Ja täisesti automaatselt juhtub, et my first reaction to this is, "Piss off, you moron!" Which is the first thing I think of, not the first thing I say. The first thing I say is... nothing. I just go on without looking back, for I really don't want to have anything to do with some fanatical religious nutcase. Even if his friend then adresses me in Estonian about half a second later. At this point I am not really sure any more, what is more irritating, having a couple of religionfreaks speak at me when I am minding my own bloody business - strolling through somebodys front yard on a Friday afternoon - or having them do it in Russian just because of my hat. Well, you know the hat I am talking about, don't you? You pitiful little narrowminded... Estonians!
Anyways, I blow these bozos off without looking back or thinking twice and carry on. Out of this muddy hillside yard through a warn-out wooden gate, which I of course close neatly behind me, without making eyecontact to the young missionaries, sent by Him to cross paths with me on this beautiful glorious day, in order to do nothing else, but to save my soul from the eternal flames of Hell.
I blow them off, and carry on, down the Liivi street, past The Natoinal Archives building and on my way home through the passageway between the Archives and the Faculty of Mathematics building, and then around a small house what I belive to be an ex-printshop. Or whatever. And just as I am about to step off the Liivi street and around the corner of the Archives, The Man makes up His Allmighty Mind, that it wasn't really very nice of me to blow off his faithful servants Dumb and Dumber, and in the spirit of Divine Justice decides to level the playingfield a bit by blowing my hat off. Väga jumalik temast. Tõsise suurvaimu teguviis, mis ikka ilusti kätte näitab, et mäherduse kaalukategooria esindajaga tegu on! Mõtlen nüüd mina Vanamehe kiusliku tembu pääle mõnevõrra ärritununa, korjan oma kaabu Liivi tänava lombist üles, ja jätkan ökavett minema pühkides oma valitud rada pidi.
Läbi mata maja hoovi Vallikraavi tänava poole.
posted by tohmik at 16:52
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