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Shortly after breakfast I leave my apartment, carrying two vas bags. Each bag tains three pairs of shoes that I have personally tested; the bag in my left hand also holds six evaluatios, each between two and two-and-a-half pages long. The summer m is warm and almost excessively bright. The swallows fly straight up the walls of the apartment houses and theher turn sideways over the roofs or soar on into the blue. Id like to stay right there and at least watch them, if I t imitate them. But I have an appoi. Im supposed to meet Habedank at ten. At Ebert Platz I take the number 7 train to Hollenstein, where the Weisshuhn Shoe Factory is located, not far from the station. Ill meet Habedank in the managers offid give him the shoes along with the reports. Well chat for about three quarters of an hour—first twenty minutes about the test shoes, and the rest of the time about electric trains. Then Habedank will hahree or four pairs of new shoes, and Ill go home. Ive known this routine for years, but I still get a little nervous every time. It goes bay particular ceit, which I sense a little more acutely during these expeditions than usual, when Im just at home. I ied this ceit from my mother. We both believe that its not worth looking at the world for aire lifetime. I used tle against the effects of this ceit, but not anymore. Naturally I have to make a special effort when Im with Habedank. He shouldnt notice my ceit at all. He thinks that Im aric train hobbyist just like he is, that to this day I read the same teical magazihat he does, primarily about early Trix and Fleisn products. He doesnt realize that Im just drawing on the same store of knowledge frozen from my childhood days, and all just for him, time after time. Its also possible that Habedank will tell me one of his tedious stories, which I listen to with perfunctory sympathy. Three weeks ago he took nearly ten mio tell me about the end of his vacation. On the whole trip from Italy to Germahought he was about to run out of gas. But then he made it bae without i. That was/is his eory. I sat still in front of his desk for ten minutes and laughed with delight when he reached the end and exclaimed: It turned out there was enough gas! Imagihere was enough gas! My ceit entails a nearly tinuous collision of humility and disgust. The two forces are of nearly equal strength. On one hand, I sense my humility admonishing: Its precisely the most idiotic stories of your fellow man that you should listen to! At the same time, however, my disgust taunts me: If you dont escape right away, youll drown in the vapors of your fellow man. Whats infuriating is that this stant colliding never allows either side to win. So the two forces just go on running the same collision course over and over. And those are my feelings as I find myself approag Habedanks office. I tell myself that Im prepared for anything and right away I have to laugh at myself. Habedank and Oppau, one of the firms buyers, succeeded in making the office a no-smoking zohats why Frau Fischedick, another buyer who still smokes, paces up and down outside the office, smoking and grinning. She holds up her arms and waves at me. I observe that Frau Fischedick wants to be in the office when I speak with Habedank. She puts out her cigarette and goes in shortly after I do.Habedank is sitting at his long black desk; when he sees me he stands up.
Ah there he is! Our master tester! he calls out.
My ceit triggers a hint of a smile. I walk across a soft gray carpet. The walls are lined with a series of i lighting fixtures. The window blinds are closed; the room is cast ily dimmed light. Herr Oppaus desk is on the left; Frau Fischedicks is on the right, in front of Habedanks. When he opens his jacket I catch sight of a hand-sized bloodstain on the chest of his shirt. I stare at Habedank; Habedank stares at me.
Unfortunately someoook a shot at me, says Habedank.
Who? I ask.
A fired tester.
Oh, I say.
Herr Habedank, Herr Habedank, says Frau Fischedick.
How do you like the bloodbath? asks Habedank and sinks bato his swivel armchair.
Dont believe a word he says! says Frau Fischedick.
Herr Habedank is one of the many people who have earned a natural death, says Herr Oppau.
Sav that last remark, I sit down in the visitors chair and place my evaluations on Habedanks table.
A felt-tip pen happeo leak in my shirt pocket, says Habedank.
I dont know what to say to that. Habedank leafs through the evaluations. I reato my bags and take out a pair of hand-stitched wingtip brogues as well as the cordovans, and explain at length why I sider them to be the best of the latest batch. Habedank, Oppau and Frau Fischedick listen to my report. I let myself believe that its a pleasure hearialk about shoes. Presumably its no act that I talk about shoes as if they were extensions of my own body. He who is forced to live as I do, without having seo this life, frequently escapes by wandering around and about and therefore places the highest value on shoes. I could say that my shoes are the best thing about me, but all I do is think that thought. My entary on the remaining shoes, which strike me as poorly cut, is short. Its always the same thing: the shoes are t<q>?</q>oo narrow, the seams are too stiff, the stitg is in the wrong places, what they gain in elegahey lose in fort. Habedank runs his fingers over the shoes as I describe them. For a moment I have the impression that my efforts are meaningful and important. I dont know any other work where one individuals sensations (a surrogate for those of others) play such a decisive role. After I finish my entary, Habedank opens his draulls out a checkbook. For every evaluation, the Weisshuhn Shoe pany pays me two hundred marks. That means that Habedank shoves a check for twelve hundred marks across his desk. Afterwards he reaches behind him and places four pairs of new shoes on the desktop. I tell by their form which cutters they e from. I stow the shoes in my vas bags. Now it only be a matter of seds before Habedank asks me to join him for a cup of coffee. Thealk about electric trains from the 1950s.
Unfortuhe firm has to eize, he says instead.
I dont know what to say to that, and wait for his sentence.
What I mean is, says Habedank, that iure Ill only be able to pay you fifty marks per walking unit, in other words for every pair of shoes.
That seems rather drastic, I say.
The situation has ged.
So suddenly?
Yes, says Habedank, we now have some pretty powerful petition. The luxury market is doing very well, and others have caught on.
Aha, I say.
To make up for that, youll be allowed to keep the shoes you test, says Habedank.
Now the office is quiet. Suddenly it dawns on me why Frau Fischedid Herr Oppau never left the room. They wao hear how Habedank would say this—no, they wao see how I would take the demotion. But theres nothing to see. I only wonder if Habedank is really trying to tell me I might as well give up the job. But then why did he hand me four new pairs of shoes? Evidently the firm still values my future work, though only at a quarter of the old price, if I ighe in-kind gift. But what am I supposed to do with all those new shoes? Ill have to either hoard them ive them away.
Im sorry, says Habedank, the pay redu wasnt my decision, Im just supposed to tell you.
I nod. The truth is, Im not really surprised. This is the kind of situation that has given rise to my sense of living without inner authorization. Ive experiehem frequently. I dont even have any desire to repeat the words Ive often thought following similar experiences, and which I could think again now. Misfortune is b. I wait to see if Habedank will ask me to join him for a cup of coffee in the cafeteria. But today there is no invitation—evidently because Habedank has some degree of sympathy for my situation. He sches a piece of cellophane and drops it on his desktop. The crumpled ball slowly crackles back open. Just when Id enjoy listening to the crag, I stand up and say to Habedank: Y<big>９9lｉｂ?</big>oull have the new evaluations in about three weeks.
A mier Im waiting for the train that will take me home. A disabled man is buying a of beer at a french fry stand. The man has no arms, only hands attached to his shoulders. Four steps away, two crows are trying to peck open a plastic bag full of garbage. Using his right shoulder-hand (or should I say hand-shoulder?), the disabled man presses the <u></u> against his ned opens it with his teeth. The ao open the plastic bag, immediately sending e peels, yogurt cartons and pizza boxes flying around the train platform. The public display of misery is disgusting, but it gives expression to my own horror as well. Is there a general dee or isnt there? I see several valid arguments on both sides. I stare at the trash and decide: there is a general dee. I await the day when all living things will fess their embarrassment. A mother with a stroller appears at the foot of the stairs leading up to the train platform. The child is gnawing on a balloon with his sharp little teeth. The teeth slide off the rubber and make a kind of gnashing creak—a sound I couldnt stand just a few years ago. Therain es humming along. The mother with the stroller waits for me to open the doors to the car for her. I dont know how it happehat Im no longer bothered by the sound of teeth rubbing against rubber. I see it as a sign of hope. Evidently some forms of opposition occasionally dissolve of their own accord. That could mean that Im getting closer to the day when I will live with inner authorization. I retract my finding and e to a new clusion: there is no general dee. I dont dare alert the mother to the potential fright that threatens her child should the balloon pop. An observation like that would have to be delivered both jokingly and admonishingly. But I t find the right words to elegantly bi and warning and at the same time ceal my own ay. Just last night in bed, shortly before falling asleep, I knew I had two train tickets left in my wallet; I now remove the sed one and i it into the ticket validator. How carefully we prepare the ground for major misfortune! Presumably Ill have to give up the job with Weisshuhn. The humiliation of w for onbbr></abbr>ly a quarter of the old honorarium is too much even for a tolerant man like me. Presumably I wont be meeting Habedank anymore. Ill put the four pairs of shoes he gave me through the usual paces ahem ba the mail, together with the evaluations. At Ebert Platz I get off the train with the iion of quickly vanishing into Gutleut Strasse, when suddenly I see Regine heading my way. She holds out her hand and kisses my cheek. Regine is only a little youhan I am. Im amazed at her youthfulness. She asks what Im doing these days and I give an evasive answer, which she notices right away.
You dont have to pretend with me, she says.
Fine, I say.
You still dont want to tell me what youre up to?
I just lost a job, I say.
Oh, says Regine.
百度搜索 The Shoe Tester of Frankfurt(Excerpt) 天涯 或 The Shoe Tester of Frankfurt(Excerpt) 天涯在线书库 即可找到本书最新章节.