UnBooks:The Sun Also Rises
He finished his drink. There he was. Ernest Hemingway was sat at the small table at the Café Select. A poule walked by and caught his eye. She walked over to sit at his table. She was really a very pretty girl, but when she smiled he noticed her dentures. He guessed that was why she didn't smile such a hell of a lot. The waiter came and Hemingway asked for two absinthes. The waiter went away.
"So what do you do?" the girl said.
"I'm a writer. I write." said Hemingway.
"Oh, how perfect!" said the girl. She was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, and she pulled it up over her face. She was really a very pretty girl when she didn't smile.
The waiter came back with the absinthe and two glasses on a tray. The girl lifted her absinthe and poured it into a little water in her glass. Hemingway watched as it went cloudy. The girl popped out her dentures and put them in the other glass.
"I was gonna drink that," Hemingway said.
"Oh Soh-ee," said the poule, and sipped her absinthe.
"What's your name?" Hemingway said.
"Delphine," said the girl, looking out down the Montmartre.
"Let's have another absinthe." said Hemingway.
"Ok, sure," said the girl.
The waiter came back with two absinthes on a tray and they drank the cloudy mixture.
"Let's have another absinthe." said Hemingway.
"Ok, sure," said the girl.
The waiter came back with two absinthes on a tray and they drank the cloudy mixture.
"Let's have another absinthe." said Hemingway.
"O-hic-k, sure," said the girl.
The waiter came back with two absinthes on a tray and they drank the cloudy mixture.
"Let's have another absinthe." said Hemingway.
"O..k.. shhure," said the girl.
The waiter came back with two absinthes on a tray and they drank the cloudy mixture.
"I'm a little tight," said Hemingway, "better get some breakfast."
"Uhhhh..." said the unconscious girl.
Hemingway lifted her in his arms and hailed a cab. The man stopped and Hemingway told him to drive over to the Café Select.
"But monsieur, we are at the Café Select." The chauffeur said.
"Is it a good café?" Hemingway said.
"The best."
"Well, ok."
The girl slumped closer to him on the backseat. She turned her face up to be kissed, but he said "No. Forget about that."
"Uhhhh?" the girl said.
"Will you get out, monsieur?" said the chauffeur.
"Is this the Café Select?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"How does one eat at the Café Select?"
"Very well, monsieur."
"Dammit! With a knife and fork?!"
"Oh, oui monsieur."
"Take us there then."
Twenty minutes later they pulled up at the Café Select. The Duchess of Cornwall, J. D. Salinger and The Sultan of Dubai were already there, and a couple of drinks ahead of him.
He'd have to do his best to catch up now, or risk being a couple of drinks behind them all night long. The Duchess, Camilla Parker-Bowles, waved to him on the way in.
"Where did you get her?" She said, nodding over to where the poule was slumped over a table in a puddle of her own sick.
"Picked her up in the Select." Hemingway said.
"She's perfectly darrrling," Camilla said. Hemingway smiled. He very really was very quite in love with her.
He made his way over to the bar and ordered eight bottles of wine and some scrambled eggs for breakfast. The band was playing. Jerry and The Sultan stood up for a dance. The Sultan really was a very good mover, and Jerry did his best to keep up.
Hemingway sat at the bar and drank a couple bottles of wine whilst Jerry and the Sultan twirled and danced on the wide floor. He looked over at Camilla whose face shone in the light that came in through the big front window from the Montmartre as she swayed her head slightly to the beat the nigger drummer was pounding out on the little kit. It was very hot. It was hot and sweat dripped off the roof and onto Hemingway's head. He took a long drink on his sixth bottle of wine when Jerry came over.
"Have a drink?" Jerry said.
"Sure."
Jerry bought a bottle of Cognac and the Sultan joined them for a few glasses.
"Have another?"
"Sure."
They all drank another glass of the Cognac. It was smooth and fiery, and hit the back of the throat.
"How's the book?" Hemingway asked Jerry.
"Writing's bad at the moment. too much machismo around. Can't focus. That and this damned heat."
"Have a drink?"
"Thanks."
"It is good to have the good things in life." said The Sultan.
"Yes that is good." said Hemingway. It really was very good.
Just then Camilla came over. She was drinking a dry Martini without the olive.
"Darling, leave with me." She begged, gripping hard to Hemingway's sleeve. Jerry and The Sultan had gone back down to the dancefloor for the slow dance, so they were alone at the bar.
"Get me out of here. Leave with me now." Camilla said.
"Sure." said Hemingway. He bought a bottle of wine for the drive. Outside, he hailed a cab and told the driver to go to his apartment.
"Do you love me so very much?" Camilla asked as they were driving.
"Yes." said Hemingway.
"But I'm marrying Charles," she said.
"I know."
"Oh, it's all so horrible."
"Couldn't we just get away? Go away, just you and me? Go bullfighting."
"No, it isn't possible."
"Yes."
"Oh, kiss me."
Hemingway kissed her.
"Oh, don't. You turn me all to jelly when you're here."
"Ok."
They got to the apartment.
"Come up for a drink?" said Hemingway.
"Sure." said Camilla. They kissed in the lobby.
"Don't. Oh, don't." She said.
They went up to the apartment and had a drink. They kissed and then Camilla said she had to go.
"I can't," she said, "Darling. I'm marrying Charles."
"Sure." said Hemingway.
Camilla left. Hemingway went over to the bed and sat down. The room span when he closed his eyes so he played Nintendo.
He looked over at the clock. It was 11am. He had been drinking for half an hour. He started sobbing silently.
He really very was really quite very was in love with Camilla.
After a while he stopped sobbing and sat up in bed.
Times like this, he thought, a man needs to go watch some bull-fighting.