The King was sitting on his throne (I was sitting on the toilet) while he thoughtfully looked at the dispatches (latest news on the phone); nothing new. The last two hours had been fairly flat. Woke up at 6.18 (because half past six is just not as elegant), coffee drank on the balcony to watch the trees move in the dawn breeze, Some birds fly over the roof and some cars pass. I look at the cell phone again. No notifications. No emails. No messages. It seems that I will have to entertain myself somehow.
I finish the coffee in two large swallows and go into the shower.
I finally convinced myself that my shower is a magical portal. In particular, putting both feet on the white ceramic and bringing the water to the desired temperature is a combination of events that triggers in everyone I know and don’t, the desire and urge to contact me.
For hours and hours before the shower, no one gave a shit about me.
Within thirty seconds in the shower and I get eight messages, twenty matches on Tinder, five emails, sixteen job offers, three calls from Trump who wanted my opinion on dropping the mega bomb even knowing that I would not agree, photos of nude models who texted the wrong number by mere coincidence and a TNT courier in the middle of a stroke who decided to give up a giga-tv, PlayStation and Dolby System Surround model: “you can hear the aliens too” in front of the first house he sees, but because no one opened the door he has time to recover and returns to work.
I dry myself, put on comfortable homelessy clothes and make myself another coffee. The phone does not show any sign of life. I sit back outside and continue to observe the same panorama.
The mind wanders aimlessly. I lose track of time.
- To all units, robbery in progress at the Central Bank, the subject is armed and has taken hostages, about thirty customers of the bank. They are all inside, windows and doors barred. Confirm and go to the site. Extremely urgent.
- This is Unit 21, we got this. Units 24 and 19 coming soon. Do we know anything about the robber?
- Not yet, the on-site negotiator has already attempted a contact, but without success. We are sending all the available Units. Drive over distracted dogs and children, but be quick.
- This is Unit 21, expected arrival in three minutes. When in place we don’t even bother to brake, drive in the front door like a motherfucker missile, guns out the windows and kills whatever moves. I'm finally getting that medal that…
- Unit 21 you do not do a fucking anything. As soon as you arrive, pull the handbrake to make a scene for those of the TV, get out the car with a grunted snout, Die Hard type of thing, gun in hand and point it to a random spot on the building, it doesn’t matter. Drones take care of shit now.
In front of the bank it’s like Beirut in the golden days of the civil war.
A car parked against the wall rumbles softly, an open door, scraps of McDonald's inside and headlights on. On the window panes the red and blue reflections of the police cars. Everywhere agents in uniform and others in plain clothes, bulletproof vest and guns in hand. Some sniper on the roofs. In the air the buzz of at least ten police drones and at least a couple of unemployed hipsters who wants to be a photo blogger with the story of the week.
- Hi, I'm the Supreme-Commander-Badass-Negotiator, so I'm in charge of you and you're dumb because you fuck it. Make sense? Are there news from the crazy bastard on duty inside the bank? do we know something about him or her? Estimated age? Previous affiliations? Favourite position? Give me something otherwise I’ll look like an asshole on live TV.
- Mr. Negotiator at the moment we do not know much, but a passerby saw the car arrive that now stands against the bank wall at about 10km/h, stop carefully against the wall and an elderly gentleman with a cane and a backpack went down and entered the bank. He could be our man.
- You're telling me that an old man who pisses himself just to feel something warm once again and think of the old days of human contact has taken my bank, in my city, in my state, etc. etc? Are you saying that we mobilized half the police for Mr. Soon to Die who could die today because of the scare of the phone that I'll ring in a second?
- At the moment it looks like that Mr. Negotiator... What do you want us to do? I have those Special Forces scratching their balls in a van under the sun not to alarm those weak civilians... They will soon lose it and raid a random house with the excuse of doing training. I have ten snipers on the roofs that do not know what the hell to point at and about sixty agents looking for the snapshot of their life posted behind the cars. Give me a single signal and I begin the invasion.
- Alright, but first pass me the phone I want to hear if the old man has something to say.
- Yes, hi, good evening, Central Bank, how can I help you?
- uh .. yes, I'm the Supreme-Commander-Badass-Negotiator, you have taken hostages and robbed a bank, how do we go about this? Let everyone go immediately or I will send in a hundred armed psychopaths.
- Come on, relax. Here we are all fine. Air conditioning is on, we are all sitting in a circle doing some self-help shit, by the way some people have a shit life believe me.
- what the f...
- Anyway as I said, it’s all good here. They are all serene knowing that what is happening today will provide them with days of vacation and plenty of attention from friends and relatives. The wife of the older ones will have sex with them one more time. They will appear on TV. Not to mention the freelance bloggers who will offer millions of likes for an interview via text message. To be honest, perhaps the only thing missing is some food. Indeed, since we are here, immediately send twenty pizzas. Mixed tastes. No time to take orders. I am sure you will understand.
The Negotiator looks around stunned. The eyes of about a hundred already bored policemen look at him.
- Mr. Negotiator, what did he say? Do we have to go in with the dogs? Tell me something... Say the word and I send inside the armored vehicles and too bad for some hostages. However I'm going to explode YouTube…
- Everyone withdraw at least ten meters. Double the snipers. Special Forces out of the van and at the forefront with everything they have. From now on, let the dogs starve.
- But sir who says, it’s an old man we’re dealing with…
- Shut up! we are dealing with a professional. Evacuate the area. This is serious.
Writer wannabe, mojito and absinthe lover, one day I want to see the Earth from space.