Marguerite au téléphone.

This is priceless. Marguerite talks on the phone in such sincere mimicry of all the adults around her. Her pauses and cadence are really spot on. She has listened to many phone conversations, this girl. Here, she is calling friends, me and her cousins, Jules and Louise.



Translation:

You don't want to?

Umm, I don't believe so, because you know, I am in a taxi - I'll take it later - I'll come see you later.

Do you want to talk to Mimie (that's me)?

Yes, because you didn't speak to her earlier, so do you want to speak to her?

But yes, you can.

Yes, How is it going?

Eh, Yes. Me, I'm well. Goodbye. See you tomorrow Mimi.

Hello? Yes, I'm well. And you? Yes, I'm well, and you?

Bah, Yes!

Me, I'm in a taxi, I'm going on vacation.

I need to catch my train soon.

You don't think I've forgotten anything, do you?

I need to leave, so I'm going to be at the station soon, the Mr. is going to take me to the station because I need to leave.

See you tomorrow.

It was my cousins, Louise and Jules, my cousins. It was my friends who I called, who are going to come to our house soon.

30th and 8th Ave.

I told him my name was Emilie. He said, "John" in response. He owns a record shop - well, a closet full of records - on about 30th and 8th avenue. I walked past and had to go in, inquire and meet him. I asked if I could take his photo and he seemed pleased with the idea - just nodded slowly, looked at me straight in the eyes and then smiled with his. I asked him how much his records were: "up to $10" said the sign he pointed to. He was really easy going - I mean, he moved his head, arms and eyes like a sloth, but a sloth with total poise and self-esteem.



I asked him if he spent every day here and his head tilted vertically in accord once again. How many years? I tagged on. 40, the number came out of like a puff of gruff air. Pleased though. Then I asked him what his favorite record was. He guffawed a little, like my question was out of nowhere, but he didn't hesitate and pointed directly to this one:

NY. 42nd St.

It is a unanimous experience. In New York people beguile each other. Even after a subway ride is long over, traces of postures and gestures and get-ups and attitudinizing stick. Look at him. I've been thinking of him since. He looks as absorbed as if he were sitting on his own couch, sopping up his comic in total oblivion. The sunglasses, glasses and hat situation really held me.