It's during the summer months, when public services open at 7 in the morning and close at 2 p.m. The night was sultry and now the sun has risen in the clear sky, threatening to scorch everything and everybody. Just think of what it it's going to be at noon? It is ten minutes to 7 a.m. In the office of the general registration of some great administrative institution, the clerk is getting ready his registers, waiting for the chimes of the clock in order to lift the window of the wicket where official correspondence as well as private petitions are handed in to him. While wiping his sweat, thinking of God knows what, he hears a few knocks on the small window. He consults his watch, which he had a few minutes before set by the official clock: five minutes to seven… He shrugs his shoulders, wipes his sweat again and goes on thinking… The knocks outside are over; but within moments they are resumed - louder and more insistent. The clerk consults his watch again: two minutes still to go before 7 o'clock. He shrugs, wipes his forehead and pursues his private thoughts… The violence of the knocks redoubles… The two minutes are eventually over: the clock reads 7 o'clock. The clerk draws back the bolt and lifts the shutter, with only the glass partition closed. He looks out. In front of the window there is a gentleman waiting; probably the one who had knocked. The clerk lifts the window too."Is that you who knocked?" "Yes.""Don't you know that the office opens at seven?" "I do."Saying this, the gentleman abruptly pushes his head deep inside; caught unawares by this movement, the clerk steps back and drops the window which falls like the blade of a guillotine on the gentleman's neck. The gentleman would like to draw out his head but cannot."Lift it! Up, sir!" the gentleman cries with bulging eyes.The clerk gently lifts the window; the gentleman withdraws. "What can I do for you?""I've got some registration business-"And the gentleman is again eager to ram his head in. but the clerk is not put wise to it and quickly drops the window which brushes the gentleman's nose."If you've got some transaction, please come in at the door!" the clerk shouts, pointing to the gentleman the way to enter the office.The gentleman listens, then leaves the window and soon darkens the door. He is neither young nor old; he seems rather weary and an expert eye would immediately realise that the man has not got his forty winks. He is all covered with sweat and dust; his gestures are as uncertain as his speech as the way he articulates his words. Emerging on the door-step, he holds his battered hat in one hand; he holds his nose with the other."You almost cut off my nose!... D'you know how badly you hurt me?""I'm sorry! But it's not my fault… Why did you ram your head in like that?""Never mind… Have you got a chair?""Here you are."The gentleman takes a seat close to the clerk's desk…"I'm dreadfully tired…"Saying this, the gentleman eyes long and wistfully a half-empty glass on the table, from which the clerk had drunk."Please sir, if you don't mind, have you got some water?""We have.""Is it cold?""So, so.""Don't you ice it?""We do.""Really? So you do ice it?""Naturally!""Is it flir… is it firl…? I mean…""Yes, we've got a filter.""My dear boy! Would you mind my begging a glass of water from you?… I'm awfully thirsty!"The clerk rings the bell; an office-boy comes up."A glass of water!" Then, after a pause, addressing the gentleman: "You said you had some business…""Yes, I've got some business…""Here, in our office?""Yes, in your office… Some business… Probably it's only now he's drawing it…""Draw what?""Water… for I see our friend is not hurrying to return…"The office-boy enters. The gentleman picks up the glass and drinks it at one gulp. Then, lifting kind and very thankful eyes to the office-boy, addresses him: "Thanks… If you don't mind… can you fetch me another glass?"The office-boy leaves. Having rifled all his pockets, the gentleman announces the clerk: "It's gone to hell! I've lost it!""What?""It doesn't matter what… The point is I have lost it!""So you had a petition…""No man, damn the petition. I mean my handkerchief… My dear, would you mind my asking you to lend me your handkerchief?… Just for a minute."Saying this, he picks the clerk's handkerchief from the table and before the man has the time at least for a protest, he wipes the water off his mouth."You seem to perspire very much, as I do."The clerk puts out his hand to retrieve his handkerchief; the gentleman draws back his hand, wipes his sweat again and then blows his nose; after that he returns the handkerchief to its place on the table."I'm a great one for seating too!"The clerk picks up his handkerchief and with a furious gesture removes it to the far end of his desk; then he sits down, picks up his pen and starts entering papers in his registers. The office-boy enters with another glass of water. The gentleman takes it from him and drinks it at a gulp; then, in a very sweet voice, pointing at the handkerchief: "If you don't mind…!"The clerk pretends not to hear him. The gentleman rises, crosses behind the desk to the opposite side, bends over and picks up the handkerchief. The clerk would ask it from him, but the gentleman has begun quicker than him, has already wiped his forehead and blown his nose; then, throwing the handkerchief back in its place: "Thank you!""Sir," the clerk begins to speak, "you said you had come on some business… Please… In this office we hardly have time for chatting… The government pays us for working… Please, what business is it?""Wait a little and I'll tell you… It's awfully hot!"He walks over to the button of the electric bell and presses it. The bell rings for a long time.The clerk, impatiently: "That's enough sir! What can I do for you?""If you don't mind, I'd like another glass of water… I'm dreadfully thirsty. Last night I painted the town red with a bunch of friends… And I didn't get forty winks either… You know…" After a pause: "Isn't it true you could guess I haven't slept?""And how!""For all the places we visited!"The office-boy returns. The gentleman speaks to him most politely: "My dear boy, if you don't mind, I'd like to beg you… for another glass of water…"The office-boy goes out. The gentleman delicately resumes the conversation with the clerk:"Are you extremely busy hereabouts?"The clerk: "Well, I couldn't say that it isn't there too much or very little… Just the ordinary thing."The office-boy brings in the glass. The gentleman gulps it down, then tells the office-boy: "Thank you!"Then, addressing the clerk: "If you don't mind, I'd make so bold as… your handkerchief…""Sir! The clerk shouts. "You must realise once for all that the government does not pay us for chatting; we've got business to do; what can I do for you? Nobody is allowed in here without some business. What's yours?""My what?""Well, your business?""I filed in a petition… I'd like to know what's happened to it. I want you to give me a registration number.""Weren't you given one when you had it registered it in?""No.""Why didn't you ask for one?""It wasn't me who brought it.""Who did, then?""I sent it through somebody.""When was it?""About two months ago…""Can't you remember the approximate date?""Well, I wonder.""How's that now? What's your name?""Nae Ionescu.""What were you asking in that petition?""I wasn't asking for anything.""What d'you mean?""It wasn't my petition.""Whose was it then?""It was of a friend of mine.""Which one?""A certain George Vasilescu.""What was he asking through it?""He didn't ask anything.""What d'you mean he didn't ask anything?""He didn't ask anything; the petition was not his.""Whose was it then?""It was the petition of an aunt of his… He knew I was coming to Bucharest and so asked me to take it myself.""What's the name of this Ghiţă's aunt?""I don't know.""And you don't know what she asked either…""Oh, yes, I think she was asking for…""What?""An old-age pension."Losing his nerve altogether, the clerk starts shouting: "Sir, this is the head office of State Monopolies! This is not the place for old-age pensions! Run over to the pensions office, that's where they take in petitions for old-age pensions!""Really? So there's a pensions office after all?"He walks over to the bell and presses the button; the bell rings for a very long time."That's enough sir!"The office-boy comes in."Now look here, my dear boy, if you don't mind, I'd like to trouble you for another glass of water."The office-boy goes out.The clerk scowls and, bursting with anger, he keeps his nose in the register:"So that's it! …At the pensions office therefore?"The office boy returns, the gentleman picks up the glass.Having allowed him to drink it at his ease, the clerk addresses the office-boy: "See him out!"On his way out, the gentleman, with sweet politeness:"Thanks a lot… I'm going… At the Pensions Office therefore, isn't it really?!"
by I. L. Caragiale (1852-1912)
