A Heathen between Two Mosques

How much fun we had today, the whole afternoon! My cheeks are still aching. I was muttering to myself as I walked past the Balıkpazarı. For months, actually not months but years, I'd locked myself up at home. For what reason? None! Sure, my income has shrunk, but whose hasn't? Nobody else became a recluse like me. Besides, I kept on spending money for all kinds of things. Could I not afford to go out once a month or at least every two months? Did I not waste money on the most unlikely things some nights while wandering alone in the city? No use trying to fool myself: In the end, it was the effect of what I had gone through—or perhaps failed to go through—with Nilgün. Add heartbreak to economic crisis, and what you're left with is TV and the four walls of home.

As I idled along the street, Öznur's remark kept eating at my mind. I hadn't noticed it until she said it. Apparently, the woman in the blue sweater at the next table was looking at me. What a pain, that Öznur! Constantly saying, "I won't let my friend be harassed!" I couldn't even say, "Shut up, she might hear you!" I could only steal a glance at the woman, just once. She was older than me, I was able to notice that much. And I remember the hugeness of her breasts. If I'd just happened to have come here to drink on my own (Me? Alone?), could something have happened between me and the woman in the blue sweater? Did it have to? Oh God, is there no middle road in this mind of mine? It dives into illusion just as quickly as it sinks into reality. If something had happened between us, we would have had to take a taxi home, and would I have had enough money left after paying the bill? Besides, who goes home at that hour? The sun hasn't even set. We'd have to go somewhere else first. And having had so much to drink already, would I be able to stay on my feet if I drank some more at the bar we would go to? No, no, this is totally absurd. I wouldn't drink so much in that case. I would take it easy. Maybe the woman's house is nearby. But then, will she invite me in?

I sense that the way I walk has changed. Not because I'm drunk. I am someone whom a woman has stared at for hours. That is, if my friends weren't pulling my leg . . . But had I fallen for it? I don't think so. I hardly uttered a word. Not even, "Stop it, she'll hear us." I listened to their jokes and smiled, and I tried to figure out what the woman was like from Öznur's expression. She didn't like her much. She kept saying, "No, she isn't your type." But what woman likes another woman anyway? I should have said, "Ah, Öznur, how would you know who is a good match for me or not?" Was Nilgün a good match? Or the ones before? They all left when the time came. Actually, you could say Nilgün never really came. She came once. That's all. I should have told them about Nilgün while we were talking about what we'd been up to. I would definitely have been tarred and feathered if I'd said, "She came over one night, we slept together; I felt guilty, I didn't call her." They must have seen Nilgün, from a distance. Selami, he definitely knows her. They must be children of the same neighborhood. God knows, Selami probably had a secret crush on her for years. But after hearing that she'd got married, he probably decided to try casting anchor elsewhere. And who knows how I ended up on Nilgün's shores...