further encounters

Things i've been up to lately: There was a night where i went on a ramble with the vague aim of finding the bearded sailor for whom i've promised to translate a book, but have not really yet made a start. I got waylayed however by a man outside a cafe when i asked him for a lighter. There are these cafe-bars which are open to the street and often have a sports game playing on a screen and a bunch of men lazily sipping beer or coffee and watching the world roll by uneventfully. Very much local places, where as a young, outside female i feel a little intimidated to enter. This man was quite friendly however, bought me a coke, and told me to hang around cos a friend of his who is an english teacher was going to pop along in a bit. Said friend materialised, to my surprise a woman, clutching a cat-carrier with mewing creature inside. I was quite delighted by this, but she seemed in a hurry to go and shoved the cat in the boot of her car and drove off.
The man was called Christophe. He assured me that he knew everyone in the town, and that if i ever had any problems i should come to him. He was about fourty maybe older, with a beer belly, wavy long black hair, an earring in one ear, and sensitive eyes which changed expression with almost frightening rapidity- one minute expressing a certain longing nostalia and sadness, the next fierce interest and illumination. He offered to buy me dinner, so i agreed, it would be a good opportunity to broaden my knowledge of the town, to get to know another place.
We went to a vietnamese restaurant. He knew the small oriental propieteress by name and was very familiar with her, while she was still somewhat reserved with him. He told me that half the year he works on ferries, and is away from home a lot. When he comes back to his empty flat it is often past ten o clock, and he's not in a mood to cook. The vietnamese restaurant is just around the corner and is the only place which stays open late and so this is where he eats on a regular basis. He told me he has his particular table- next to the fish-tank, and that i had taken his customary chair. "Six years i've been coming here. Always sitting in that chair. This is the first time i have company. It's nice" His eyes became soppy and i feared he might cry. He seemed to have a deep weariness, which he said was brought on by non-stop work. Now it was his hibernation period, his six months without travail. When i asked him what he planned to do with his endless spare time, he replied: sleep, i'm incredibly tired.