Arnon Grunberg



At a sidewalk cafe of a pizzeria in Irvington (NY) a young woman was sharing a pizza with her lover or her father.
I started listening to the conversation and I reached the conclusion that it must have been her father.
She did the talking and he did the listening. Halfway the pizza he couldn’t take it anymore, he disappeared for several minutes.
The young woman complained that she had been to so many weddings this summer. “It’s not just the party, it’s the dinner, it’s the rehearsal dinner – do you know how expensive these gifts are? And the clothes? You cannot show up in the same clothes at these weddings. I’m broke. One more wedding and I cannot pay the rent anymore.”
“Yes,” the father said, “very annoying.” And he stared at the pizza.

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