This weekend was my uncle's birthday party, he's my fathers older brother, and he turned 60. In fact, it was a surprise party organised by my aunt. I went to pick up my 91 year old grandfather in his retirement home. He never thought that his youngest granddaughter would have to drive with him.
Family gatherings are usually not that fun, but they are an obligate matter. It is for this reason that I had drunk too much cheap champagne.
Back home, before going to bed, I made a cup of tea in the kitchen to cure my headache. Mihai, my Romanian friend, and roommate was still up. He smiled at me when he saw me closing my eyes by the excess light in the kitchen.
He told me that he went to rent a car earlier that day. He stopped by before to ask which were the necessary papers, money etc.. When he came back to get the car he handed in his papers and ID. The guy in the rental shop said that he was sorry but that they don't rent cars to Romanians. I asked Mihai whether he was angry or not, but he said that he just felt humiliated. I would have been angry in his place, as a matter a fact I was getting angry and wanted to write a letter. But Mihai said that it wouldn't help, and that he was used to such things. The only thing he's is going to do is write a short note that said: Please make a notice on your show window that you don't rent cars to Romanians, so you could spare them the humiliation of entering and trying to rent a car.
I said that I would be more aggressive in such circumstances. But he said: "Mica, what can I do? I can shit in a bag and throw it in the store, but that wouldn't help me."
We started laughing. In a strange way our conversation ended with a bizarre subject: farting.
The last sentence I remember him saying before going to sleep was: "Imagine Mica, The aesthetics of farting."
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