This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .
15th April 2006
Today is just another day . Nothing to write about really. Yesterday was Good Friday.Nothing really happened yesterday either. The difference with yesterday was that I was aware of many other people not having to go to work .
Olga, lives directly next door to me. I noticed her mopping the landing as she kindly does on a regular basis. Otherwise this place would be a typical 'No man's land '.I mean the common areas of such shared accommodation often turn into a region that no one takes responsibility for ,and thus prone to look like something just inbetween a battle field. Olga is about forty years old, a refugee from Bosnia after that terrible war which resulted in the break up of what was Yugoslavia.
'Good morning Olga, no work today?'
' Good morning, no work , factory closed four days'Her English has improved over the years but I still talk to her in this pidgin English idiom that I have grown used to .
'You come for tea with me tonight Olga?'
'Maybe , you going nowhere?'
'No, I be in .You knock tonight.'I guess it sounds rather patronising , but I can't change this way of addressing her now. Olga has greying hair ,sharpish features and deep set green eyes , interrupted by very full lips and a well proportioned body. She often invites me for her traditional black coffee.It is very strong, full of sediment at the bottom of the cup and always served in tiny cups. When she first came to this building it must have been seven years ago.She used to wear very traditional Balkan clothing , a colourful head scarf and very baggy frocks and jumpers. Nowadays I see her in all types of western clothing and the scarf very rarely worn.
About four years ago Harry an old 'friend' of mine came over to see me, just as Olga was inviting me
for one of our regular coffee moments .He didn't believe that we have coffee together and nothing really happens.
'Wow! ' So that's what you get up to lately is it?'
' Yeah ' I nodded, I guess he realised that there was nothing going for me.'Shall we go then? , you should try her coffee it's really good.'We both went to her room.
'I'm Harry'. He introduced himself . Moments had
passed and the two were laughing and joking together as if acquainted over years. I noticed every so often reconnaissance palms from Harry sent out in all directions, touching Olga in the most neutral parts of her body. Harry joined me for coffee a few more times and eventually Olga and Harry were having an affair , leaving me to hear the 'ooohhhs!'and 'aaahhhs', the creaky bed and the occasional petty argument .
Harry gradually decreased the frequency of his visits until eventually he disappeared all together from Olga's life.
'Where is Harry ? ' she often remonstrated .'He does no love me....' I often gave her vague reassurances never stating the obvious , which she knew. Harry had returned to the security of his trusting wife and steered well clear of 93 Ploughman Road .
Something about Olga today made her more attractive than usual . She looked happy and sang to herself in her own language as she diligently mopped the landing.
At around 9.00pm Olga was knocking on my door. She entered with some home cooked biscuits all covered in sesame seeds. She was dressed in tight fitting white denim trousers and a blue T shirt as it was an exceptionally warm day after after the continuous coldness our spring has offered so far.We drank tea and ate her biscuits , talked about the weather , her work and the politics of our housing joint acommodat ion .i.e bemoaning the recent increase the landlord has announced. We continued with such trivia and I plucked the courage to attempt to be a little sexually more assertive. I had preset my CD player with some 'BeeGee'music which I remembered she had taken a liking to on a previous occasion.I gradually sent out feelers ,touching her shoulder then eventually her thigh . Olga laughed almost cynically and firmly clasped my wrist and moved it away . I persisted and then moved my lips close to hers and attempted to kiss her . Olga grabbed me by the shoulders almost like a mother preventing a baby from injury , held my shoulders at arms length,looked me sternly in the eyes and said: 'Simon ! stop it , you are friend and best neighbour , why you do this?' I giggled fatuously with embarrassment.I made one more tragic attempt of simultaneously stroking her breast and approaching her lips again . This time she dodged me and I almost headbutted the wall.
'Oh Simon ! NO....NO!' I felt like a disobedient canine.Olga then got up straightened herself,and with an air of dignity walked to the door .Smiling but firmly she told me .'Simon! , you are friend; friend only , do you understand?'As she proceeded to leave the room , I actually apologised for my behaviour , I don't know why because I was angry with her and myself , I felt that I deserved an apology really but that's what I did.
'OK , sorry .' again like a fool I heard myself.'Will you still invite me for coffee another day now?' I pleaded.
'Of course , but friends only OK!' She demanded .I felt as if she had me against the wall and that I had
to sign a legal document preventing me from ever doing such an audacious thing again,That I would have to make this concession before she let me go.
'Yes, only .....friends'. I failed. Olga left the room after one of my very rare moments of passion. I made another cup of tea. For an hour or so wallowed in my self pity ; how enjoyable self pity can be sometimes. I happily concede that the world will not feel sorry for me , I won't accept this :I will give my self the pleasure or duty of feeling sorry for myself.......After an hour and a bit, I reached for my bedside cabinet and grabbed a copy of 'The Dazzler' I looked at various naked bodies in contrived , self conscious postures.I then put it away , the presence of a real woman was still alive in my room , even the scent . I proceeded to pleasure myself with vivid images of my own creation ,...of what could have happened with Olga....
Today is just another day for me and Friday wasn't particularly 'Good',
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