Vignettes #49

One of the many acquaintances I had from my cinema days was a fellow I knew by the name of Peter. About my age, maybe a few years younger, he was a film buff, too, and also shared my interest in American literature. So we usually had a jolly chat every time we met.

I did notice that he often emphasized all the big and little mishaps in his life, although he always appeared to be good-humoured. It was either the flooding of his apartment, a bad job, a supervisor who was constantly going after him, or generally his notion that most people didn't like him, although I could hardly ever understand that last point. I also found out that some friends knew him by the name of Peter, while others insisted that his name was Josef. Obviously he had 2 categories of friends he'd distinguish by the name they called him.

I hadn't seen him for a few years, when he did turn up again at my cinema. We started chatting, and he came up with lauding my life. He said I was such a lucky fellow with a beautiful girlfriend, a cinema of my very own and so many good friends.

This made me a bit uncomfortable so I tried to change the subject and asked him how he was doing, since I haven't seem him for such a long time. With a big smile on his face he replied: "Well, I came by, since today's a very special day: it's the first anniversary of my suicide attempt!"