Sitting… – column

Ernst was a knowledge from a distant past. Nowadays he would be called slightly autistic. But then he lived with one Triumph T150 Trident in a messy room afterwards.

He was obsessively busy developing that British three-cylinder technically to perfection. And did it take time? All his time went into that. Ernst was a man who was completely focused on something, a man with a single track mind. The Triumph was in fact his only topic of conversation until after the third beer. He always fell over after the third lager.

And then Magritte came into his life

Ernst turned his attention for the full 110% on his found new love and disappeared from view. Now I met him again. He had hardly changed in twenty years. We greeted each other and I asked how he was. He was doing well. He started talking about the latest modifications to his Trident. That was as usual. But his social skills had improved. He even asked what kind of bike I was riding these days. He invited me to catch up with him at home. He lived five minutes away. Those five minutes were filled with stories about his Trident.

His house turned out to be no longer a cave, but a neat apartment on the ground floor. Everything in his house was neat and clean. As proof of his far-reaching socialization, a few paintings hung on the walls and net curtains hung on the windows. The plants in the windowsill turned out to be plastic. The living room was emphatically the stage for evolving towards technical perfection Triumph. The three-cylinder was not next to an IKEA piece of furniture, but next to a small lathe and milling machine.

The conversation continued over a strong cup of coffee. About the T150. I made a cautious comment that the time he no longer had time for Triumph apparently was over. That was true. “I had a motorcycle accident. Fortunately not on the Triumph. I was pretty bummed about it for a while. And Margritte didn't mind hanging out with a patient.”

He looked thoughtfully ahead. “We each decided to go our separate ways. I recovered and went back to my Triumph.” At my comment that I was happy to see how neatly he apparently had his life back in order, Ernst nodded with satisfaction.

“I have learned a lot. I have become more social. Would you like some more coffee?" We talked about the Triumph. “You know women are like T150s. They constantly demand all love, care and respect. But I don't think you can ever really rely on them. But dealing with motorcycles is less complicated. And I have no bad memories of my time with Margritte. I learned a lot from her. Like things in the household. Cleaning and stuff.”

The apartment did indeed look like a ring toss. "And you know what's the most important thing I've learned?" I didn't know… With the look of a satisfied man in the eye, Ernst explained to me what was the most important thing he had learned: “Peating while sitting. That keeps the toilet much cleaner.”

No matter what happens in his future, Ernst will remain true to it Triumph project. But if ever a new love comes into his life, it will hit a man with social skills who keeps his toilet perfectly clean. What else does a woman want except the impossible? And those plastic plants? "That's what I learned from Margritte: a house without green is a house without a soul." Ernst is doing well. Fortunately.