A Sketch by Jean-Pierre Martinez
A café. The landlord is behind the bar, wiping glasses. A woman arrives, not exuding joy. Without looking at him, she sits at the counter. The landlord observes her discreetly for a moment.
Landlord – Madam… What can I get you?
Her – Do you have arsenic?
Landlord – Is it for takeaway or to consume on-site?
Her – I’m still undecided…
Landlord – Have a coffee in the meantime. With a little calvados, it’ll cheer you up. The calvados is for me.
Her – Calvados? At this hour?
Landlord – Calvados has been known since antiquity for its anti-depressive virtues. I prescribe it to my customers every day, and no one has committed suicide so far.
Her – That’s kind, but I’ll stick with the coffee. I work at the hospital, just across the street.
He prepares her coffee.
Landlord – A nurse… It must not be fun every day…
Her – Surgeon.
Landlord – Ah… Sorry, Doctor…
Her – It pays a bit better, but it’s not necessarily more enjoyable.
Landlord – I can imagine…
Her – And that’s just talking about my job. Thankfully, I work day and night. Not having a private life has its advantages, you know… when you have a crappy life…
He hands her a newspaper.
Landlord – Take a look at your horoscope, it might predict a temporary improvement.
She glances at the newspaper.
Her (reading) – “You will give your heart to a stranger”…
She puts the newspaper back on the counter.
Landlord – That’s good news, isn’t it?
Her – It depends.
Landlord – You shouldn’t give your heart to just anyone, that’s for sure.
Her – And especially, it’s better to give it while you’re alive.
Landlord – I’m not sure I follow…
Her – “You will give your heart to a stranger”… Look, it’s not in the love section, it’s in the health section…
Landlord – It must be a mistake…
Her – I have a patient waiting for a heart transplant. We just need a healthy donor. Preferably dead.
Landlord – I see…
Her – We can do nothing but wait… Someone will have to die so that another can live.
Landlord – It’s fate…
Her – An accident can happen so quickly. After all, it might be me. Since it’s in my horoscope.
He places the coffee in front of her.
Landlord – You really are an optimistic, it seems…
Her – I never had a child; it would be my last chance to give life…
Landlord – Are you really sure you don’t want that calvados?
Her – Never during work hours… If a donor comes in, and I have to operate in an hour…
Landlord – If you’re the donor, there won’t be anyone left to perform the operation.
Her – In the case of heart transplants, it’s the donors who are lacking, not the surgeons. Such operations remain exceptional. I know some who would be willing to kill to perform their first transplant.
Landlord – Well, then I’ll drink that calvados, and I’ll offer you the coffee.
Her – You’re a strange café owner. That’s not how you’re going to make a fortune.
The landlord pours himself a calvados and drinks it in one gulp.
Landlord – I gave up the idea of getting rich a long time ago. And I don’t offer coffee to just anyone, you know…
Her – Why me? II can’t say I’m pleasant company…
Landlord – I’ve always been wary of overly friendly people. I have my preferences, that’s all. There are some who I like, and others, not so much.
Her – So, I’m lucky, then…
Landlord – Well, we don’t know each other… Maybe I’m your handsome stranger…
Her – Who knows… Well, I have to go…
Landlord – Another life to save?
Her – No, but I parked in a “disabled” spot.
Landlord – With your medical symbol on the windshield, you can park anywhere without getting fined, right? Just for that, I would have liked to study medicine.
Her – Thanks for the coffee…
Landlord – Be careful crossing the street.
Her – We’ve only just met, and you’re already a mother to me. If I’m still single in ten years, remind me to marry you.
Landlord – Alas… who would want to marry their mother? (She exits.) That’s the tragedy of my life…
Black.
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A sketch from the collection Open Hearts
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)
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