My Trash Planet

I needed one hundred and nineteen matches to light the star that today illuminates My Trash Planet.

Sumimasen

すみません

“Are you from Japan?” asks the waiter when he hears me think in Japanese.

I shake my head, surprised that he could.

Sumimasen. I apologize in Japanese to My Trash Planet ...

He doesn’t understand me, he shrugs his shoulders, smiles and tries to empathize with me. I notice that he has one eye of each color. He serves me the << Most Amazing & Cool in all of Madrid >> Gin & Tonic, enthroned by the stars of Trip Advisor (4.9) and Google Reviews (4.8), as one more moron of the hundreds of customers that he daily sees.

I am sitting on the terrace of an attic of a hotel in Madrid and I see the mountain range drawn, still with snow.

I take a good sip of the Gin & Tonic. TBH, nothing extraordinary. The crux is suddenly in the waiter (I find his inner essence -that of the waiter- extremely attractive; in him lies an unusual element of this universe, a universe that in the minds of the clientele of this terrace, of Madrid, Spain, Europe and the world has been drawn as inconceivably large, when in reality this universe is as ridiculously small as an atom from another universe from trillions of other universes, now, BIG TIME, with an inconceivably giant space).

BOOOM!

I chew on a pepper berry as I scan the handsome, sparkling-eyed, mysterious scent waiter up and down, left to right, in every possible direction and angle and across.

The situation has become uncomfortable (he caught me several times spying on him) so I give up on understanding what is happening between us.

I look upset at the Moon. This sunset has me quite distracted (remembering what it took me to light it up) and I could swear that for a couple of hours repetitive flashes (green, red and blue) have been coming out of the Moon with evident logic, determination and effort that have finally caught my attention. Suddenly I realize that it must be the lovely Jeanette. She must be bored as hell.

Poor thing!

This is what the loneliness of the Moon brings. She has an innate clumsiness in certain tasks and an obsession that borders on the manic when trying to create life. Everything that Jeanette has tried to create sooner or later dies. The only thing she’s been good at is planting vineyards on the far side, the one you never see from here! Grape production is constant and she is always barefoot with her feet dirty from stepping on them. One thing is certain, the wine that she has obtained as a result of the solar winds and singing to the grapes with impeccable love and devotion is amazing ... I am sure that she is so pissed off for not inviting her to this nostalgic Gin & Tonic moment in which I find myself submerged. IN THE END, WHAT SHE IS LOOKING FOR IS FOR ME TO TELL HER MY RECIPES ON HOW TO SUCCESSFULLY START LIFE ON A PLANET.

I draw her on a napkin. (She is quite difficult to draw. She loves to orbit the Moon riding on an octopus)

I don’t know what the hell she is doing communicating with me with ridiculous games of light. They are barely noticeable by those who live here (except for owls, chinchillas and moths), but there is always a savvy human eye that sees it and begins to raise conspiracy theories that set fire to billions of <<thoughtful>> heads. And at this point of the movie, I wouldn’t risk fooling around. Things are turning out to be tremendously delicate...

“Juanjo, honey, look, look, do you see those lights on the Moon?” says a woman with very red lips.

“What lights?” answers the man who accompanies him, with shorts and white socks up to his knees.

“Yes, there are like little lights that blink, they are white and super bright”.

“On the moon, you say? Well, love, no matter how hard I try ... I don’t see anything at all.”

“Put your fucking glasses on!”

“No!”

The rest of the people start to get curious and watch too.

“Yes, damn it, take a good look” she insists.

“What nonsense. It will be a plane for sure!” he ridicules her.

No one except the red-lipped woman seems to see anything. Aware of her ridiculousness, she painfully withdraws from the battle.

“Well, they must be aliens then!”

Sometimes I am amazed at these little creatures, drunk on the << Most Amazing & Cool in all of Madrid >> Gin & Tonic. They laugh, I laugh, they suddenly look at me offended, we all laugh in unison, and we stop abruptly. The waiter hallucinates. The only thing that is worthwhile about this terrace is the waiter and the expression that we will all have on our faces when they charge us 29 Euros for each Gin & Tonic.

I have told Jeanette to please use whatsapp; which is the proper way to communicate in the timeline we are in, that using lights ends up with uploaded videos on YouTube with hilarious titles.

I look at the whatsapp: Jeanette. 729 unread messages. <<RSVP>> says the last one. Répondez s’il vous plaît.

Shit. It is going to be true that she tried to talk to me through the established channel.

I archive it. I don’t feel like talking.

Lilac sky, orange clouds. Venus shines so much that with the prominence it has it could start singing. Boom! What an explosion of color!

The entire terrace begins to murmur and look askance at a figure who has entered the scene and knows how to do it. I catch comments like: “Look, OMG she’s barefoot...“, “Ugh, what filthy feet ...“, “Smells like wine, cheap wine!“, “If she asks you for money do not give her a fucking euro, ok? We paid the mortgage yesterday and the life insurance is due tomorrow...“, “Juanjo, look, talking about aliens...”

I am curious. I turn to find Jeanette staring at me, visibly indignant, with her arms akimbo. The very diva blurts out to me:

“Olivier comes from Betelgeuse and you give him Amazon so he can have fun getting rich without blinking. And here I am with a stupid moon vineyard, watching over your planet protecting it from all the shit that comes from outside”.

I get a notification from YouTube of a new video that has been uploaded on a channel to which I am subscribed: “Strange lights on the Moon. Proof of an alien base?“.

It was uploaded 7 minutes ago. 76,123 views.

I sigh and reply to her with the biggest smile I have: “Come on Jeanette! Nobody knows how to make wine like you!”