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Sitting at the table of a café near my house, as I almost always do (not so much anymore), I arrive early and I have several newspapers at my disposal.
I have my coffee served and before I start drinking it, I look at an adjacent table and I meet Don Roque, an old man who also on Sundays and almost at the same time, does the same as me.
We greet each other with a simple nod of the head and immediately Don Roque says to me in Italian, which is always mixed with Spanish.
-Come va?
-Bene -I answer in the same lingo and smile at him.
I start to drink my coffee and I notice that he stands up and asks me:
-Will you allow me to sit down?
-Of course, -I answered him and he began to speak to me in a way that I understood as if he were a fellow member of a brotherhood and with the intention of revealing a secret.
-You know, I have been observing you for some time now, even though I am a few years older than you, you are a person who seems close to my time and I think we have things in common that have already disappeared. But I don't want to find out about your life, that is not my intention, I simply thought today about the mistake of being alive, at my age, almost ninety, and in good condition, although "retreaded".
I smiled and asked him what the mistake of being alive was, perhaps he was not happy with such a long life.
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-Of course I do, -he replied,- I'd have to be a fool if I wasn't, but these last few years something reminded me of the title of an old Italian movie.
-I know it, -I replied.
-Ahhh, that's nice, -he said and began his little story.
You see, I've always been a hard-working guy, I've had a simple but good life, a wife who is no longer with us and two barbarian children. I studied up to high school level and I started in a bank until I retired. But I see now and accumulate historical data for my long life that have made me recognize that living so many years is not good.
-How is that? -I asked.
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-I might add, -he replied,- that it is not good for you or for others. You know, I have no friends left except for one almost my age whom I have known for fifty years. He was a merchant in his working days and today he is a poor pensioner. His story that he told me a few days ago when I went to visit him because he is in a hospital made me rethink the last seventy years of our country. This man told me things that I heard but did not suffer and that did not make me happy, on the contrary, it disappointed me.
-What things, his illness or another family situation? -I asked with interest.
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He told me that he lives alone in a one-room apartment and that one of his sons pays regularly. He told me that he lives alone in a one-room apartment and that one of his sons pays regularly. Don't think he has enough, he does it with sacrifices, he told me and continued telling me my friend, I go to the supermarket, I buy a couple of tomatoes, I choose the smallest lettuce plant and a small onion. I make a salad, boil some noodles and put some oil, sometimes butter, and that's my daily meal.
-Just once a day, I asked him?
And he answered...
-Of course.
-No dessert? -I then insisted.
-No, sometimes the cheapest, oranges with juice, that's all.
I looked at him then the old man said to me as if to let him know that I was distressed by his situation and I said to him:
-But don't you have a pension?
-Of course I do, and it's not the minimum, -he answered.
Then I raised my shoulders and asked
-¿And?...
-But it's not enough, I take care of the expenses of the apartment, the electricity, water, gas, in short.
-Your other son, -I started to ask him and he interrupted me.
-He is unemployed, he was the foreman of a shoe factory, but the company went bankrupt and he was compensated. He lives from one racket to the next.
-Well, Don Roque, these are the stories of the day, unfortunately.
-No, no... no, -he answered me,- they are from the day of the last 70 years, we live from jump to jump and for those of us who live it "too much" they are not jumps, they are falls.
-I understand, -I said,- that's why I remembered the title of "the mistake of being alive".
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-I knew when I was an adult that all politicians talked about the welfare state, well, I think they got the word wrong, it's a state of malaise -he said while he sketched an affected and biting laugh, those that do not reflect an inner joy but rather a sadness.
He greeted me and extended his hand as if looking for a friend to affirm what he had said, I shook it and stood up, patting him on the shoulder, then he walked out with his cane, somewhat wobbly but confident.
I then thought of the men, the businessmen, the unionists, the politicians, those who rule justice and so many others who seem to form a brotherhood, where some of them have changed their principles to satisfy their youthful ideals, replacing them with others that are not just those and only serve for their own benefit.
I picked up the newspaper but did not leaf through it, I knew beforehand what they would say... the same as always and I thought of don Roque, how right I said to myself.
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