The Bonaerense will save us from the coronavirus
Many years ago, at the end of a riffrecital, Pappo told the audience, “Be careful; today is Saturday and the Blues are hungry.” Maybe things have changed and the glorious Bonaerense will save us from the coronavirus…
I live in a club. El Hindu, opposite Route 202, Don Torcuato, north ofBuenos Aires . Today I needed to buy fruits, water, wine, milk. And I went to pick them up at the Chinese supermarket that’s across the road, next to the gas station. On the beach there were two policemen standing next to a Fiorino. The driver moved his arms drawing excuses that seemed to bore the officers. Twenty minutes later, when I left the super with 5 liters of water, a can of peaches, milk, wine and so on, the van and the cops were still there.
Without remembering Pappo’s message I approached
“ Good morning, officers. I would like to know how I do the procedure so that I can bring food to my mother, who is disabled.” “Documents.” “Whose documents, my mother’s? I don’t have them.” “Carlos, call the duty officer. We got an NN breaking the quarantine, no gloves and no chin. What do we do?” “But if on TV they say that it is not necessary to use…” “Gentleman, I’m not talking to you. Stay still and be quiet.” “Copy mobile” “And what’s the homeless doing?” “He wants to go to Vicente Lopez.” “I’m not homeless.” “I’m tired of it. I order you to stay still.” “Copy that. Take him to the facility or let him go.” “Get on the patrol car. “ “But he said that… All I did was ask them how to do the procedure…”.
“ I thought it was blindness…”
One of the policemen (I find it very difficult to say which one) approached me from behind to persuade me to get on the patrol car faster. The shopping bosa got tangled between his legs, hit the car socket and the wine bottle broke. “But what does he do? Are you crazy? You want me to prosecute you for damage to police property? You don’t care about anyone… Get on, I’m tired of it.” And there I went, with the shopping bag, in cane.
I looked inside the patrol car and felt the same horror as when I was five years old I was taken to the ghost train. The rear seat had been replaced by a loose board with dubious halo. Inside everything was stained and dusty. And nothing, nothing, was healthy or had its original shape. An acid smell, like an old stove, made me tear. As the two agents got up, the seats shook and the car staggered.
And here’s how “La Bonaerense” plans to defeat the coronavirus
The companion pulled a sprayer out of the glove box, with a pink liquid and moistened his hands. Then, without looking, he pointed his beak back and triggered several times. “No more gel alcohol, but kerosene is much better. This really kills everything.”
I walked in to the police station tearing, with an irritated face and a disgusting smell of kerosene. After signing a document that I couldn’t read, I was told I could leave. But that they, by kindness, were going to take me home. “Thank you very much, I prefer to walk.” “Look at it, man; it sucks. That way he doesn’t even get to the corner… That’s it. Now fulfill your obligation and stay at home… He saw everything went fast. Here the only thing to regret is the tintillo (remember that it breaks me
Técnico Mecánico egresado del colegio Otto Krausse.
Ingeniero de Vuelo egresado de la 7 Brigada Aérea de Morón.
Tercer año de Filosofìa en la UBA.
Diversos cursos y talleres literarios, entre los que se destacan el Taller de Guión dictado por José Martinez Suarez, y de Literatura Policial de Vicente Batistta, de Corrector Literario de Ernesto Sábato, y de Construcción Literaria de Clara de Simone.
Primer Premio Cuento Breve Fundación Andreani.
Primer Premio Narrativa Municipalidad de Vicente López.
Primer Premio Poesía Juegos Florales Municipalidad de San Isidro.
Segundo Premio Poesía Municipalidad de San Martín.
Segundo Premio Cuento Club de Leones.
Tercer Premio Cuento Municipal Provincia de Córdoba.
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