At Mc Donald’s

Time as come to get some food after i have rested on top of the hot air puffs. Is there anything more healthy and fun than eating in a fast food?

Very crowded. There’s only one place free, in front of a girl i’ve never seen before, but with a very familiar face, she so common. She looks like a little mouse, she wears a bordeaux sweather, glasses, straight hair tied in a small pony tail. Insignificant. I’d like to have a chat with her: we are both alone, consuming a fast meal in a whatever place. The dynamics of these restaurants is always the same: you sit down with people you have never met, it’s normal, and you hardly never say hello to each other. Right next to us there are two women: the one next to the girl, bleached blond, with a heavy tan, heavy makeup, a lot of jewellery, keeps complaining: she doesn’t really say anything particular, it’s the way she talks that sounds tormented, as if she has no choise than to be content. She sends her friend, the one sitting next to me (but are they really friends?), to get something to eat (i can’t stand the ones that sit down before having the food, in such crowded places): “whatever you want... ahhhh... i don’t care... (sigh)”. When the friend comes back the blond woman askes “how much do i owe you.... ahhh... (many sighs)”. 8€: eight euro??! For a piece of simple pizza and half a liter of water??! (here i get suspicious about their friendship). The blond woman doesn’t seem to care: she’s too busy sighing. In the mean time the little mouse has finished her meal. She stands up. Shock! She’s wearing a pair of pants with very low waist, with a gaudy buckle, i can see her underpants, lace underpants, the sweather is very short and she has all her belly sticking out. From the way she moves i can tell she’s also wearing high heels, and it’s obvious she’s not used to it. With that face of first in school, always in church, never had a boyfriend, those clothes really don’t suit her. It has been like seeing half body of a human and the other half of a horse: a mythologyc monster. What i mean is that we should be a bit more carefull of what we wear: not everybody looks good with anything on! A bit more of taste! And sense of reality! (the blond woman keeps on sighing). In the mean time i’m taking pictures inside the place, and people, respecting the same rules of the subway, pretend i’m not there. Once, i was in the metro, i was sad, i was crying, and i found myself an objective pointing at me: i would have liked to get up and smash it on his nose. Instead i just pretended nothing was happening and turned my head, so he couldn’t get my face. Now i find myself on the other side and i go around taking pictures to anything and anybody. At the beginning i’d feel a bit ashamed, but then i’ve noticed that nobody really pays attention to what i do. At the most they feel flattered. Ahhh vanity.... (now i’m the one who sighes).