At the Blue Monkey by Walter Serner

Author:Walter Serner
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-939663-66-5

THE ART OF LIVING

Schülle was forlorn. He was head-over-heels in love with his newest girl, Sima, but she wasn’t exhibiting the least bit of understanding for his high-flown plans—and if the latter remained unexecuted, the requisite pecuniary basis for enduring love of any kind would prove impossible to secure.

What to do? As noted, Schülle was forlorn.

“A sporting fellow, Dr. Kandismayer, ain’t he?” Schülle submitted cautiously, for the thousandth time, while performing a mighty turkey trot on the dance floor at Kullmann’s.

“Him? Pfff!” Sima sniffed dismissively, flashing her majestic knees. “You jealous, or something? Now, now …”

Schülle—his left thumb lodged in Sima’s right palm, his fingers delicately spread over this cozy burrow—groaned a little. Is she that naïve—or crafty? he mused gloomily, before abandoning himself to a death-defying jitterbug.

“My, Schüllikins, you’re dancing up a storm …” And Sima showed him a little more while tenderly rubbing his neck with her left forearm.

Schülle’s despair mounted. He remembered that he only had ten marks left, and not the slightest prospect …

A little later, as Sima gave herself over to a foxtrot in the arms of the librettist Steiner (an erstwhile arbiter of billiard matches), Schülle, sitting idle, attentively followed the movements of Dr. Kandismayer, who’d fastened his reddish eyes on her and was trying to get her to look at him—contriving to make noises with a saucer and, alternatively, crossing and uncrossing his legs aggressively (in evidence of the intense passion he was experiencing, one presumes).

Abruptly, Schülle struck upon one of those decisions that had so often brought success and diversion. To wit, he enlisted his commanding knowledge of the female heart and, in order to get his plans moving, resolved to play jealous so Sima would cheat on him.

He gruffly marched her way, shoved aside the chatty librettist, and hissed: “If you so much as dare to flirt again with that Kandismayer, then … Then, it’s …”

“What? You made it big now? Or maybe just enough for a buzz—that it?” Sima’s whole body was twisting in irony.

It took Schülle considerable effort to respond appropriately: “Shut up! We’re going! Got it?!”

Sima darted an infinitely short and petty look his way, headed straight for Dr. Kandismayer, and started an animated conversation.

Quite delighted, Schülle took off for a little café across the street. After half an hour, he placed a call—for Herr Doktor Kandismayer, who finally made it to the receiver ten minutes later.

“Hans Vogel speaking. If you want Miss Sima, who’s likely caught your fancy, you may turn to me in full confidence.”

“I may what?” asked Dr. Kandismayer. Even though he’d understood every word, he was extremely touched.

Schülle repeated what he’d said verbatim, adding in a slower voice: “I’ll wait for half an hour at the café across the street. Just a couple minutes. You won’t regret it.”

Emboldened and, more still, now quite curious, Dr. Kandismayer hastened to the café across the way and took a seat in the corner to wait.

Coming from behind, Schülle sat down next to him suddenly; he didn’t say a thing.

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