Brainstorming session

Even though I've been retired for over two years, my former employer - a global pharmaceutical company - has invited me for a brainstorming session. It will take place in a local bar, not in the office building where I've worked for so many years. When I arrive I recognize a lot of my former colleagues, of whom A serves as the sole bartender. What surprises me is that no-one is ordering any drinks. No-one seems to recognize me either.

When the session starts it appears that not only am I unable to participate, I'm also unable to hear what's being said. Not that it matters much, because within minutes the brainstorming session morphs into a meeting of the Council of Leiden, the Dutch city where I live. Subjects being discussed are bicycle routes, parking regulations, construction permits, etc. And though I can hear what's being said, I can't talk back. Well, I can talk back, but nobody hears me.

After the meeting, when people start to mingle, the situation normalizes and I am able to participate in any discussion. I recognize and greet H, a former concert promoter with whom I used to be in regular contact. He tells me he has become a member of the Council, and contributes to important decisions, of which he is very proud. He's wearing triangular glasses set in a yellow frame, his hair has greyed, and he looks much older than he should.

I also run into R, who was in the same class as me when I started my studies at Leiden University in 1976. I ask him what he's doing here, but he doesn't reply and drifts off.

What I learn during the course of the evening is that this bar mixes drinks from leftover medicines, which may explain why no-one is drinking. Still, everyone's holding their empty glasses. When I look closer I see some powder at the bottom of every glass.

Later I discover that when I lean against the wall and lift my feet I don't drop to the floor. Excited, I shout that I have conquered gravity, but no-one is interested. The lights of the bar are lowered, and one by one the people start to leave.

Popular posts from this blog

Holiday in Paris

It's the 1960s. My parents are still alive and live in the sleepy village where I grew up, not far from Rotterdam. Nevertheless, I'm not a kid; I'm the adult I am today. Which means I’m older than my parents while still being their son. I feel I'm here in the past to make certain observations, though I have no idea what or who to observe. My parents have decided to use their tiny VW Beetle to go on a short holiday to Paris, and they wanted me to go with them. My mother invited several neighbors and friends, while my father invited his cousins from Rotterdam. Everyone is allowed to bring their spouses. When departure time arrives, it's quite the crowd that gathers around the VW. Even though the car is small on the outside, it is huge on the inside. Everyone fits in easily, and there's ample room for the luggage that everyone brought along. But people brought more than just luggage. It was feared that the French would have peculiar culinary tastes, so everyone
Read more

Two cartons of orange juice about to burst

It's the early 1960s. I am sitting on the floor in the living room of the house where I spent the first nine years of my life. But I'm not a child, I'm an adult: the person that is dreaming this dream. So how did I end up in the past, surrounded by my childhood toys? When I look around, I notice that my (adult) twin cousins are in the room as well. They have turned into statues, resembling the Anubis statues of ancient Egypt. In their stone-like hands, both cousins hold a carton of orange juice. Puzzled, I approach one of them to have a look at the orange juice. When I get close, the carton becomes transparent, as does the orange juice. I can see thousands of small creatures swimming inside the carton. Roughly half of them are from our planet's prehistory; the other half is of alien origin. The carton of my other cousin is similarly full of creatures, but they are different from the ones in the other carton. The two cartons are counterparts: male vs. female, positive vs
Read more