Karma drama library palaver

I’m sat on one of the internet computers in Uppsala library with my 30 minute timer quickly winding down. Every day I’m here and every time the same girl is always here at the same time wanting to use the computers. In the beginning it was just me, then one day she shows up out of the blue and I end up asking her for some Swedish translation. She’s got black curly hair, really looks like my friend Emily and I find this very disturbing. Her dress is none descript: Jeans, a hoody and I was able to discern nothing from her appearance. After this she is constantly around wearing skirts, ties, make up and looking very alternative. We seem to make eye contact all the time and she hovers around me sometimes pretending to look at the books behind me, waiting for me to initiate conversation. I have no fear or problem talking to anyone but for some reason I don’t speak to her again and this causes a really strange and awkward chemistry to exist between us where we purposefully avoid each other because it feels so weird to be near each other and not to speak.

I’m already quite edgy because I’m doing a runner from paying the rent and today of all days the only free computer is next to me and she’s had to sit there. I catch her sneaking looks at my screen and I do the same to her. Why is she here? Should I propose a fight club style system? Splitting the days of the week at the library up between us so we never have to meet and can both enjoy our internet release in peace? Have things really gotten this far?

I turn in the direction of the ticket machine, give it a preliminary scan and then back to my screen.
Half a second.
Pause.
Did I just see what I think I just saw?
Na, my evil brain would like me to think that.
I’d better check anyway though, paranoia can spread like *.
Turn to the machine
And very, very quickly back to my screen.
Freeze
Heart increases 5 fold.
There at the ticket machine for 15 minute internet access is my landlord, the one I planned never to have to see again for blatant reasons. He looks like he’s muttering to himself, keeps his head down and assumes a chair while waiting for his turn.
Am I in an episode of a soap opera here or a bad film with a sickeningly moral and just ending?

My brain defrosts slightly and starts to formulate plans.
‘Maybe he won’t see you?’ my brain says
“My hair amounts to a mass of big, curly red hair. I’m one of the least discreet people in this entire city, you fucking idiot” I silently reply. He should really pull his head out of his arse and pay attention when we’re staring in the mirror
‘You’re wearing a hoody’ comes the second attempt
“Better”

I pull the hood over myself.
Damn, the sheer bulk of it still can’t be contained and some of it is hanging out of the front.
“What now!?”
‘The string! The string!’ he shouts
Yes, the string! I tug the string tight around me, obscuring part of my face in the process. Bonus.

‘You know…there are 4 computers for the drop in, 2 of which are on the other side of the bench. There’s a fifty/fifty chance that he may be sat completely out of view and then we can make our escape.’
“Nice work brain. Let’s sit it out, ride the odds and hope our ticket doesn’t get marked”

I began to feel like the United States of Am*rica and the girl sat next to me was Pakistan. Earlier my propaganda ministry had vilified this individual as a grave threat to my security and well being. Even after all my cold-shouldered sanctions she had still managed to secretly develop internet capabilities in an attempt to undermine our cold, hard monopoly of it. It was fine for me alone to have this power, but for it to fall into anyone else’s hands it would surely lead to misuse. However, now that my landlord, Iraq, had showed up, proving to be an even greater threat, I really needed her on side and for us to instantly pretend that things were fine between us…that they had always been fine. It didn’t matter anymore that she had been training up young beggar children in the ways of logging on. My intelligence sources had uncovered one of her sinister plots: A terrorist cell was to flood the library, infiltrating all the remaining internet computers then open up page after page of Al-Jazeera streaming video in an attempt to crash the entire network and prevent my access.

I wanted to turn to her for assistance, I wanted to tell her that we were now on the same team and we just had to pool our resources and get away from this money hungry despot, but it was pointless. All I could hope for was that she wouldn’t leave my side.
Movement 2 computers to my right. One person’s time had expired, another’s about to begin. But who could it be? Make or break.
The USA, Pakistan and Iraq now side by side by side.

‘Are you getting a slight sense of de ja vu?’ questions my brain
“no, don’t be ridicul….oh…oh…actually shrrit!”

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Manchester – Rusholme -, the spring of 2005. I’ve met a girl who I’m having a really intense relationship with.
“I can’t pay my rent” she says one day
‘Run away and move in with me!’ comes my gleeful suggestion.
In the dead of night we sneak away across the park. She really hates her housemates. Wouldn’t it be funny if we left them a little note we decide?
A piece of paper folded in half. The outside reads, “Rent money” and the inside reads “Screw you guys, I’m going home!”
My computer speakers are broken because I spilt water on them, let’s borrow the Cod player and bring it back later.
We think this is hilarious and go on to live a life of poverty heavily tinged with crime, excitement and adventure. (The girl is still my girlfriend now and who I went to Sweden to be with)

Manchester – Rusholme – December 2005.
Together we are sat in an internet café with me currently at the controls.
“Let’s go, I really wanna go” Leylla says
‘Paid £1 you know, need my money’s worth’
“I really, really want to go. Let’s leave” whilst tugging at my shirt.
I turn round to see Leylla’s scared face and there’s some grinning guy asking me if she is my girlfriend. This is the guy who lived in the house in Rusholme. This is the guy whose cd player we borrowed but never actually bothered to return because we still needed it. Oh dear

“Thank you brain. Why couldn’t you have ceased up and then us had this revelation afterwards, when we were safe”
My brain has freaked me out immensely now. Is there some protective Karma force going round dishing out just desserts and placing landlords and runaways together?

‘Didn’t we bump into Leylla’s landlord 2 days before she left the country as well?’
Oh shit…even the timings to the day seem to be fitting together here.

I don’t believe in God, I’m not a lost idiot, but I do believe there is a guiding force out there that creates a balance to level everything off. There has to be so that not one thing can over run the planet. You have Fire, then you have water. You have politicians, you have sniper rifles. I was pretty sure I’d paid my debt by not stealing the camera. I didn’t deserve to be caught, did I?

In my peripheral vision a figure is looming over my right shoulder. It looms and then it hangs
‘It’s fine’ my brain soothes.
‘Worst case scenario we can knock him down and then flee. We’re the ones with the adrenaline.’
Even though this was perfectly true I still wanted to avoid any confrontation.
There’s a tap on my shoulder….
I look round.
Who the fuck is this guy ?
He says something in Swedish. I know I can respond by saying I can’t speak Swedish in Swedish but what if he starts talking English? The landlord will hear me.
Just then Pakistan intervenes beautifully and exchanges places.

Lucky escape.
“Maybe we are gonna get away with this matter Mr. Matter”
Some time passes.
‘Wait, isn’t Leylla supposed to be arriving any minute to meet us?’
NO! Any second Leylla is due and if she doesn’t clock Iraq and comes straight to me it’s all over. This is even worse than before. I don’t wanna have to face an awkward confrontation with my own girlfriend watching. The tension builds and builds, I am just staring at the screen now, trying to make my brain stop thinking until it’s all over.

I hear the scrape of a chair, he’s gone! Operation camouflage? Success!