Wild Bitch Season (English), Rogger Dojh Archive


WILD BITCH SEASON 1 (English draft): Over You

A party while down in the slumps.

The time of the Cancer. I.e. the birthday of a Cancerine. That was the occasion.

The venue is Sofia, really close to Popa Sq. Actually the rendezvous is there too.

What was before that…

Wild Bitch Season
by Rogger Dojh

Support the online publication of Wild Bitch Season by donating 1 BGL!

      / |  '     \
     (  )         0          It was a dark and stormy night...
      \_/-, ,----'
         ====           //
        /  \-'~;    /~~~(O)
       /  __/~|   /       |
     =(  _____| (_________|

Over You (translation working draft)

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, as well as to real events and localities, is purely coincidental and unintended.


Today we’re having an RPG shooting practice. They delayed the departure by an hour, because something went wrong with the trucks. This is 4 years later – I am now 26 years old and serving the Republic of Bulgaria. I have 6 months and 3 weeks of my compulsory service left. Women are a rare thing in here and that’s why it’s really easy to recall past events in contrast to the monotonous backdrop of the army. So my hunger for emotions is looking to the past for food.

We’re leaving for the shooting. Till next time.


A party while down in the slumps.

The time of the Cancer. I.e. the birthday of a Cancerine. That was the occasion.

The venue is Sofia, really close to Popa Sq. Actually the rendezvous is there too.

What was before that… As if it was a perfectly dead season. For the first time that summer I had jumped into a pair of pants, put on a white shirt, used a razor, aftershave, etc. bullshit. These things kinda make me feel real.

‘Mum’, a really close friend of mine, had completed his army service about two months before that and was already on track for parties. So at the party I met with Mum, Ender, Patsaka (the infamous cowardly double-glazed camel [that wears a helmet]), Slav and one of the Identical Ones. It’s all the same which one. The Identical Ones looked too much alike at the time.

The name of the birthday chick was Annie. She must have been something like 19. The kid was decent but she was dating an ugly tall guy. How she could stand him in bed is totally beyond me; I could hardly stand him in the room. Anyway, it’s her business. Bottom line is Annie had a birthday and she was throwing a party.

During the party I got really drunk. Very pleasantly drunk, in fact, since I didn’t get sick; I just found it hard to keep my balance during my peak. In the meantime, I was looking around for an available chick, but somehow I didn’t like any. Ender was hitting it off with some luscious ho that he had brought along; I don’t remember what the rest were doing. Basically, most of the girls who had dropped in for the party had a turn around the living room. And since at some point we were sitting on the living room floor, singing “In the men’s bath”, the girls didn’t stick around too long. (I will attach the song’s lyrics at the end of the chapter.)

I was very drunk and sang a lot. Mainly Mum and I sang, indeed, since he was the one who had brought it in from the army.

Felt like I managed to cross every girl who visited the occupied territories. Only one had an intriguing reaction. Some piece – with braces on her teeth. I guess that’s why I was screwing with her – quite innocent, this one.

Perhaps she didn’t give an intriguing response at all – but it was just the booze doing its job. On me, that is. She was sober. So at some point while I was screaming my lungs out, singing “In the men’s bath” over and over, enjoying the keen attention of the wasted gang, the girl, surprisingly, joined in. The wasted gang, that is.

…(at this point some things had happened, which the alcohol has kinda erased from my brain)

Later on, some people were leaving. Maybe they were friends of mine. Or maybe I just happened to be in the hallway, while some total strangers were leaving the party. In any case that chick was there. Slav was trying to communicate with her. My intoxicated conscious disagreed with Slav talking to every available girl and then hitching with her (which he loved to do). So when whoever was leaving, left, I had the following conversation with her:

“Come here,” quietly uttered and accompanied by an inviting nod. My conscious, floating in blissful intoxication, was watching the events from aside.

“Why?” The girl was playing dumb. She had leaned against the opposite wall of the hallway – a meter and a half away from me.


The girl took an unsure step forward. I helped her come closer by pulling her in; then I started kissing her without any more talking. The kid didn’t mind – she started kissing me back.

That’s how, as far as I remember, I met Veronica.

The party went on. These were the moments of the most serious alcohol blackout. In any case we found ourselves in the living room again, lying on a couch, some other couples around us. I wasn’t too happy about them, cuz I wanted to have sex and they were in the way. There was sex though – somebody had put on this painfully disgusting porn with some fat whore on a plane. The fat whore was masturbating with something, which would better be left undescribed.

So, while I was sobering up and chit-chatting with Veronica, we dozed off.

Then, morning came.


Coffee, cigarette.

The girl doesn’t drink coffee and doesn’t smoke.

And I am sitting there, looking at her with a sober mind in the daylight; wondering whether I’m really attracted to that slightly skinny thing, sitting in some old chair like a lost puppy. We leave the apartment and somewhere around the NPC  (* National Palace of Culture), where we part, I’m trying to nail a date with her. Rather out of convention than anything else, cause I’m still absolutely indifferent.

In the end we set up a date – same day, in front of the NPC, around 6 pm. The date does not take place – when I call her, according to the arrangement, she backs out.

This is how the day ends. And this is where the romance begins, because I fall for her – since she cut me off – and I fall for her hard.

Actually there will be about a week until our next date. Till then the following things happen.


When Veronica turned me down again, what I did not do was to back the fuck up. Back then I wasn’t familiar with the advantages of that state. I took sofia.txt* (* sofia.txt – same as newyork.txt, but with address and phone data for Sofia.), ran a search of her phone number and her address popped up. Very silly I bought a single red rose and rushed to look for her somewhere in the unfamiliar corners of Sofia. Finally I was forced to get a cab, since I couldn’t possibly figure out my way around the weird neighborhoods I found myself in.

Naturally, the denotation of the buildings and entrances was so messed up, that I couldn’t possibly find where exactly Veronica lived. I found a phone booth instead and scrounged a phone call from someone who was talking at the moment.

“Hi, can I speak to Veronica please?” I said to her mother’s voice.

“Just a second,” the mother answered.

“Hello?” Veronica said when she got on the phone.

“Hi. It’s Dojh.”

“Hi,” Veronica replied, showing no excitement at all.

“Let’s meet.” I got right to the point. I was pretty fucked up, by the way. Too much adrenalin in the blood stream, and shit like that. There was a high chance that I would start talking crap, so I was trying to get it over with.

“I can’t.”


“We’re renovating now. They won’t let me go.”

“Come on, I’m standing here, right in front of your house; you just need to come down. It won’t take long.”

“I can’t… Yeah right, in front of my house. You don’t know where I live.”

“………..” I’m reciting confidently the exact address. “But I can’t figure out where your entrance is.”

“How did you find my address?!?!”

“It’s a secret. I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“Tell me! Tell me now!”

“No way. I wanna see you…”

… And so on. The conversation didn’t get any more interesting; in the end I just tossed the rose somewhere and went home.


Then Veronica left for the coast with her boyfriend Peter. She stayed there for a week and came back alone.

The 7 days Veronica was away were interesting and highly emotional for me. I hung out with Mimi & Co. (Co = Stokhi + some unidentified flock of fuckers who tagged along) – that wasn’t all that emotional – but I had fallen so hard for Veronica, and her absence almost made me orgasmic. Meaning, my imagination filled in the vacancy with a better version of her. It’s a weird state. You miss a woman, whom you know from one unfinished evening. In your head you go through one insane week with her and she gradually turns into the perfect girl for you. But this doesn’t make up for her absence… stuff like that.

The evening at Baba Yaga was great. Mimi & Co were drinking beer, one of them was riding around on a bicycle, the rest were chit-chatting, and I felt like drinking wine.

“Mimi, let’s drink wine.”

“I don’t wanna drink wine.”

“Stokhi, wine!”

“But I want beer.”

“Mimi, c’mon, let’s get some wine.”

“I don’t wanna drink wine.”

So, Dojh is sitting on the round stone curb around some tree, absently staring at the passers-by. Standing by him are Mimi & Co. Dojh is still whining for wine. Nobody wants wine.

And then comes a girl, whose name is Maria (*Do not confuse with Mimi), and with whom Dojh is only partially acquainted.

“Hey you!” Dojh calls out to the girl, since she is pleasantly contrasting to the indifference of Mimi & Co to his desire to drink wine.

“Hi,” the girl replies, perhaps not enjoying the encounter as much. Actually I’m not sure what she is thinking, we never talked about it.

“D’you wanna get some wine?” I ask, since obviously I can’t talk about anything else at that moment.

“Yep” she answers.

“How much cash do you have?” I ask filled with hope.

“5 bucks.”

“Me too. I suggest we get a bottle of red.”

“Let’s get some white. I don’t like red wine at all.”

“Hmmm. Ok then. White it is.”

A huge percentage of the female population doesn’t like red wine. They must have some aesthetic reasons for that; white wine seems more aristocratic, or what? Or maybe the taste buds belong to the secondary sexual characteristics… In any case this event was the beginning of the very pleasant domestic alcoholism, which continued throughout the whole summer. Every other night I guzzled a bottle of red wine, sometimes for the fun of it, sometimes because Veronica… Never mind.[B1]

So, a bottle of white wine was enough to get us deep into an interesting conversation. The second bottle was welcomed with love and understanding from both parties and at some point in the nightfall I realized that Mimi & Co had left. I even think they had said Goodbye. That didn’t really matter, since I was getting more and more intrigued by the chick, and at the same time I was crazy about Veronica. The alcohol was amplifying that feeling and slightly shifting its object (i.e. I missed Veronica terribly, but actually not necessarily Veronica…), so at some magnificent moment I asked the monumental, insanely stupid question:

“What would happen if I tried to kiss you?”

And that right in the heat of the conversation. Fucking adequate. God bless white wine.

“Why don’t you?” replied the girl appropriately.

Well, I tried. It actually worked. At some point we drew back, looked at each other with curiosity, and continued with the conversation.

I had skipped dinner. Perhaps that’s why I got so totally drunk from a single bottle of white wine. Actually, it might have been more than that; I didn’t pay attention to how much she drank and how much was left for me. In any case, at that time my folks were always ready to freak out, when I didn’t follow the assigned schedule, even though it should have been clear to them by then, that this was solely their problem. Therefore, when I didn’t even make an effort to call that I was going to be late, I had already got myself into trouble (yep, my folks stubbornly kept on making it my problem as well…) But my filial sentiments had temporarily stepped back due to the fortunate sequence of events and also the consumed spirits.

I came to my senses and jumped out of the bed at the chick’s apartment some time around 3 AM; I slipped into my pants and shirts and in a few minutes we were already walking around a nocturnal Sofia looking for sandwiches and a phone booth.

Here’s what my parents (who were still lurking awake next to the phone at home) had done: they had gone to Baba Yaga, called all my friends and found out the approximate address of the girl that I had left with. Thank God they hadn’t been able to actually find me.

In the morning the girl and I had a cup of conciliatory coffee and coke in front of her house (binding the contract that whatever happened will stay in the past with the break of dawn – I guess she also had her heart set on somebody. How we had ended up like that last night, one can only wonder). A bit later I had already run off somewhere.

And I was loveshocked. I was wondering when Veronica was going to come back from the coast.


The loony date was once again at 6 PM in front of the NPC.

The loony Veronica didn’t show up again.

I stood, waited, loitered, I hung around… She simply didn’t come.

So after 30 minutes I got on the tram, went home and, as I was getting off, my mom showed up at the window and started shouting down from the 3rd floor how some Veronica girl had called, and how she had said stuff about stuff… In short – she had forgotten what time the date was at.

Veronica showed up at our place 15 minutes later. The essential bottle of red wine was waiting on the floor, where we actually set up camp; and I really don’t remember what we were doing while we were consuming the wine. We must have been talking, I don’t think we tried to have sex; just your basic teenage BS; I was pretty uptight until the wine loosened me up.

Then Veronica decided to leave.

I saw her off pretty far away, walking, all the way to her place. I was cradling the bottle of wine (since we hadn’t finished it off…). I was very delightfully drunk and I have no idea how I managed to get back home – there were no buses at that time. Nor was there any cash for a cab. That was a very cashless summer. I don’t even know where I got dough for the wine. I probably pestered my dad for it…

Anyways, after I had convinced myself that the public transportation had betrayed me not running at 12 AM, I shrugged resignedly and set out on the way back humming “Night bird”. At home I threw myself on the bed and hibernated happily until morning.


Our next date was at my house again. The girl came with the agreement that she would stay over, so I bugged my parents for a double amount of food, poured the wine in the glasses and lit up a candle. I was trying to create a romantic atmosphere.

It turned out almost like in the movies – with the following exceptions: the main character didn’t know how to cook, so he relied on his parents for that; after dinner the guy and the girl went to bed together, but didn’t have sex; and there was no heart-breaking, semi-jazz music, to which actors usually assume terrifically erotic, genital-covering positions, expressing their immense love and tender raging passion. Argh.

I was actually pretty freaked out that I might have caught something from the affair at Baba Yaga – everything there happened without a condom – so I was waiting for the results from the HIV and syphilis tests to come out, and some other shit. I couldn’t use condoms anyway – every time I slipped on a condom, little Dojh shriveled sadly.

The night was educational – I got my first unconfirmed information about the existence of the G-spot – although it wasn’t mentioned with that name. I also made another discovery, which really made me fall for that girl – her natural scent, her breath, her hair – all these things smelled divine – even the taste of her mouth when we were kissing was wonderful.

After we fooled around in bed for a while, Veronica dozed off, and I just lay there half-awake. I couldn’t fall asleep until the morning when she left, since my bed was so damn narrow and there was always some part from my 197 cm that would stick out in the wrong direction.

I lay there in the night heat, the hours passing by in silence. That went on until the Sofia equivalent of the cockerel – the infernal yellow trams of death – sang with their battered wheels and announced to the whole world, that it’s time to get up. It’s 4 AM after all, they insisted, get up-get up, and hurry.


It just sucks to listen to somebody lying in your presence. This instantly puts every word they say to you under suspicion as well. That’s why when Veronica stated that she wasn’t seeing Peter anymore, I didn’t buy it even for a minute – a few times already she had told her mom on the phone that she was with Peter, when she was actually at my place.

I learned about her relationship with Peter right after she got back from the coast. At our first official date I mentioned that while she was away I had slept with another chick.

“Oh, don’t worry at all!” She replied joyfully. “I slept with a friend while I was at the coast, too.”

I didn’t mind – we were even.

But when Veronica started comparing Little Dojh to Little Peter, I started getting pissed off. And the loony girl really did do it.

We were sitting around at home one hot afternoon (some time before we actually fucked) and while we were hanging around in scanty clothing in the August heat, Veronica, out of nowhere, reached out, pulled out the elastic of my boxers and peeked in curiously.

“Oh,” she said. “I like it!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to react – it was a nice revelation. She saw my expression and decided to bring in some clarity:

“No, really! It’s big!”

Uh-oh!” I thought, “Was that a compliment?

“You should know,” Veronica kept talking, “that Peter’s thing is really small, like a baby carrot! When I slept with him for the first time and saw it, I couldn’t stop laughing!

Sweet mother of Jesus!” I continued my silent monologue. I was wondering whether I should laugh as well, or what?

I was already terribly jealous of Peter. And that was my biggest delusion – Veronica had already broken up with him. Moreover – she did it on a day that I thought they were on a date. Paranoia had its grip on me – there was nothing else I could think after Veronica refused to see me and after that same night the seen-serv in the IRC channel where she used to chat, showed that she had been there 5 minutes earlier with Peter’s ident and IP. And since I was a stupid jealous cunt, I could only think about stupid bullshit like that.

I behaved totally irrationally, but I didn’t realize it. Veronica wasn’t helping me either, with her sudden outpour of capriciousness, which she started generating, lingering in a particularly sour mood. I was being stubborn, she was being stubborn… Even after we slept together for the first time, things didn’t improve much.

The night we had sex was just a brutal crime on her part. The girl just straddled me, came and then went to sleep. I think she cried a little. She hadn’t had an orgasm in a long time. But it was fucked up how she fucked me and then fucked me over. Guess that’s why she cried. She was not so dumb as not to sense it. But she was a noteworthy Ariesse so her scruples lasted for about 5 minutes. And I, the glorious follower of Onan that I was, gave myself a wicked jerk-off and also dozed off. (* The events described in this paragraph are slightly different from that reality, which this entire story accidentally resembles, but my editor threatened that she would bite my head off if I described the episode as it really happened; she claims that aesthetical effect is much more important than truth.)


Ever since my birthday in April, that same year that I hooked up and broke up with Veronica, a nasty tendency was to be observed: under the influence of cashlessness and the lack of any sensible occupation, I had sunk into depression. I had disintegrated morally and didn’t feel like doing anything. My libido had kinda waned with all of that. Veronica on the other hand hit me like a shock catalyst – and just when I had started feeling like a bed bug (*Footnote: the male bed bug is the most sexually potent critter, known to science; within 24 hours it ejaculates an amount of semen, which exceeds its own weight multiple times; its penis is sharp and hard and penetrates the female bed bug’s body wherever it chances – so that it needn’t look for the specifically designed reproduction organs.) she decided that she had to leave for Rudartzi where her grandma lived.

It was terribly stupid for me to wanna fuck so much and have nowhere to direct all that energy. It was also fucking dumb for Veronica to hook up with some dude over there and sleep with him three times that same week, when I was flapping like a fish out of water back at home (it was a good thing that I wasn’t suspecting anything at the time, it was only later that I found out about those affairs…) But as they say – c’est la vie.

The very evening that Veronica left was pretty cool itself. Nothing remarkable happened really, but the dam where the bus dropped us off was really beautiful, the summer air was intoxicating, the lakes we snuck by were romantic, and the falling night added even more sensuality to the whole picture. The only drawback, which kinda disturbed me, was her refusal to let me walk her to the house. Now that I think about it, it could have something to do with her local lover.

After she came back from Rudartzi, Veronica started spending a lot of time at my place. She was chatting on my PC, or just lying around, or we simply talked. And I was acting aloof and was being stubborn for every small thing that I could think of. Not all the time, but just enough to create a tense and uncomfortable atmosphere.

Eventually we brought up the topic of our relationship. Again the action took place on a sunny summer afternoon, again we were sitting on my bed, wearing the minimum of clothing required for observing basic hygiene – a pair of boxers, lace panties, or something of the sort.

“Do you still keep that photo in your wallet?” I had enquired back then. It was about the photo of her mystical cherry-popper Nick. She had even called him from my phone once. During the conversation, which I’d listened to with a fake indifference, she got angry with him for not having paid her the due attention (when he met her on the street, he was with his current girlfriend and behaved aloofly[B2] etc., etc.). And that’s the reason that Veronica pointed out why she was so bitchy when she was talking to him… which didn’t stop me from throwing another fit of jealousy. To put it shortly – that photo was driving me nuts.

“Yeah, of course,” Veronica replied. “Don’t even think that I will get rid of it.”

“You will get rid of it.” I stated decidedly.

“No, I won’t.” Veronica let me in on her point of view.

“Oh, come on, you are dating me and you are sleeping with me, and you have this guy’s picture in your wallet!”

I guess Veronica was totally frustrated with my stupid insistence at this point. In any case she answered with the following:

“Nick is the only man that I have ever loved and will ever love. Even now I am in love with him.”

She kept talking, her breasts flashing in the sunlight, shining in through the blinds.

I wasn’t happy with that love confession. Wrong person – wrong place.

“Its time for you to leave,” I stated and then stood up.

Veronica automatically started getting dressed, but when she really had to go, she stopped and looked at me.

“I don’t wanna go,” she said.

“Nobody’s asking you,” I replied, making my words sound much too harsh.

“I don’t wanna go,” the girl repeated. We were standing very close to each other.

“Now what? You just said that Nick is the man of your life. What are you doing in my room then?”

“I don’t want to go, cuz I’ll miss a lot of things.”

“For example?”

“Well, your bed, your computer, your room…” Veronica started to enumerate. But since she missed mentioning me in the nostalgic list I got even more pissed and kept on insisting until she left.


From here on things, following the normal human logic, totally hit the fan. Veronica left for Samokov to visit her cousins, and I went on vegetating at home. After she came back, the agreement that we’re dating was still valid, but she was very cold. We rarely saw each other and we only slept together one more time, when we were at Mimi’s place. Even then Veronica was checking out some guy from the building across, who was walking around in his underwear; and she started going on about how sexy he was – of course I instantly got jealous and started acting like a total ass…

The romance had vanished from our relationship. The only thing I felt was a tense codependence and vague jealousy. I very much wanted to be with Veronica but at the same time I found her constantly irritating. She, on the other hand, had lost almost all interest in me and spent her time alone at home. Moreover, August was coming to an end, and the “Calculus I” exam retake was hanging over the horizon like the fecal cloud of putridity – in other words, the present and the foreseeable future were starting to distinct themselves as extraordinarily unpleasant.

As a finishing blow, Veronica and I caught a fungal infection, for which she decisively blamed me; she pronounced me a complete bastard, who had the nerve to sleep with her without a condom and in general put the last but one dot in the ellipsis, which would signify the end of our relationship.

The last dot was all mine – elated by the sensation of behaving as an uncontrollable ass, I made a delightful scene over the phone, declaring to Veronica that we are no longer together. Then I left for the coast.

Once I was there I decided that I was madly in love with her. I wrote two poems, but the curtain had already dropped, and there was no chance or point in trying to hook up with her again. Later in September we met in Sofia, strictly as friends, and that was that.

Again at NPC – we split both of us going our separate ways and leaving behind nothing but the Indian summer, Sofia pedestrians and the traffic jam.


After this whole affair, I lost track of Veronica and didn’t hear from her again until after I joined the military. She is with Nick at the moment – almost 2 years now. She’s still wearing braces and she’s still a hot and slender chick.

Me? I’m still in the army – I have 11 weeks left till furlough. Dramatic performances such as my relationship with Veronica can’t upset me at all – my only drama is called “military service”, and the only dream I crave – discharge.

My hookup with Veronica was exciting and, in many respects, worth the trouble. But the thing that came after I got back from the coast challenged even my wildest notions of reality. And it had a name – The Bitch in White!

Tags: ,

WILD BITCH SEASON 2 (English draft): Killing me softly

Meeting Nelly was quite a different thing.

Basically, the summer of 1999 when I dated and broke up with Veronica, sucked big ass. Towards the end of our relationship (i.e. a few days before September 1st) I had plummeted into a terrible depression – with a girlfriend with whom tings didn’t work, with a fungus infection all over my nuts, no cash, no job, a dumb major at SU (business administration – from all the “linguistics” majors, this is what they admitted me for eventually...), with a single hot room, to spread out my living space, no car (I assumed possession of the Blue Bird only after the trip to the coast)... Not a single substantial thing, actually.

Wild Bitch Season
by Rogger Dojh

Support the online publication of Wild Bitch Season by donating 1 BGL!

      / |  '     \
     (  )         0          It was a dark and stormy night...
      \_/-, ,----'
         ====           //
        /  \-'~;    /~~~(O)
       /  __/~|   /       |
     =(  _____| (_________|

Killing Me Softly (translation working draft)

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, as well as to real events and localities, is purely coincidental and unintended. OMG! Is it possible for something like that to be happening in the real world?!?

Intro. One year earlier.

Session Start: Sun Jul 19 17:15:57 1998

<Rogger Dojh> haya :)

<Nelly> hi

<Rogger Dojh> a/s/l?

<Nelly> 18/f/turnovo

<Nelly> you?

<Rogger Dojh> 22/m/sf :) (* sf == Sofia, the main city of Bulgaria)

<Nelly> working/studying?

<Rogger Dojh> i’m so damn bored, fucking hell

<Rogger Dojh> oh, i jus’ applied for university

<Nelly> what d’you apply for?

<Rogger Dojh> linguistics in su (* SU == Sofia University)

<Rogger Dojh> with german

<Nelly> ic

<Nelly> so, are you gonna get in?

<Rogger Dojh> god only knows

<Rogger Dojh> if not, i’ll be on the march in the fall

<Nelly> army service?

<Rogger Dojh> same

<Nelly> oh, that sucks :-(

<Rogger Dojh> i don’t give a fuck, really

<Rogger Dojh> i’m sick of sitting at home

<Rogger Dojh> well, when – if – i go there, i’ll probably change my mind …

<Nelly> well, at least you’re chatting

<Nelly> there’s none of that in the army

<Rogger Dojh> yep

<Nelly> yeah

<Rogger Dojh> what sign are you?

<Nelly> scorpio

<Nelly> you?

<Rogger Dojh> i’m aries


Meeting Nelly was quite a different thing.

Basically, the summer of 1999 when I dated and broke up with Veronica, sucked big ass. Towards the end of our relationship (i.e. a few days before September 1st) I had plummeted into a terrible depression – with a girlfriend with whom tings didn’t work, with a fungus infection all over my nuts, no cash, no job, a dumb major at SU (business administration – from all the “linguistics” majors, this is what they admitted me for eventually…), with a single hot room, to spread out my living space, no car (I assumed possession of the Blue Bird only after the trip to the coast)… Not a single substantial thing, actually.

Emotionally, I was completely and utterly capot.

Some time around August my dad offered me to go to the coast, without having to pay for accommodation – we have some close friends in Primorsko, who always have a room available for me and my family. But since I had nobody to go with, I didn’t feel like going anywhere. The lack of any urge for activity was keeping me home and my social contacts were brought down to zero. IRC wasn’t helping to improve my inner emotional climate either and in any respect I needed some social-shock therapy.

Two days before September 1st, I decided that I’m still going to the coast. That was one of those fortunate glimpses that have always dragged me out of the swamp and brought me back to life. At least throughout puberty and post-puberty. Later I became more desensitized I guess and didn’t get depressed as much.

An especially strong motive to live Sofia was the “Calculus I” make-up, expecting me around September 1st, blooming with joyful virtual smiles like a monkey’s ass. The choice was between going to the coast and taking for the exam. My dad managed to get me to sit down and study, really.

15 days. My spiritual rebirth. I went to Primorsko all by myself, found people to hang out with, discovered chalga (* Bulgarian redneck country-side music), baked my butt at the beach and came back eager for life, eyes shining with energy. True, got no girlfriend while at the coast, but still trying to be in love with Veronica and suffering from inadequate sentimentalities, I wasn’t pushing myself too hard.

Then the semester started and Nelly called me.


Venue: My office and Nelly’s place. (We had rented an apartment – Nelly, her sister and me. The central office of my company “studio e-design” was situated in the living room, and they were sleeping in the only other room).

Location: On the big wide bed in the corner of the office.

“Dojh, I should tell you something. But after that you’d want to break up with me.”

“I don’t think so. Shoot.”

“Well, we can’t sleep together.”

Dojh asks wisely:


“I can’t tell you. Don’t make me tell you. We just can’t sleep together.”

A short, heartbreaking pause.

“Like, never?”

“Yes. You probably don’t want to be with me anymore?”

Nelly is observing my reaction attentively, ready to pout at the first opportunity. My reaction is undetermined. Indeed, I expected anything, but this…

“Well, I don’t think this will change anything,” I say eventually. Do I think so? No. I’m thinking there’s something fishy about this. But what? AIDS? Pretenses? Some other STD? She’s pregnant? Cancer?

“Why, what’s the problem?” I inquire.

“I don’t wanna talk about. Forget it. I though you said it doesn’t change anything?”

“In any case I need to know why. Are you pregnant, or something?”

“Who, me?” Nelly bursts in overdone laughter. “No, I’m not.”


We’re lying in complete silence on the wide bed – carelessly. The building is away from the main streets and from the traffic noise. The room is quite cozy – white walls and floor tiles, few pieces of furniture (chairs, table, bed and desks for the computers), three PCs. Several computers in the same place have always given me a sense of comfort.

“Ok then, tell me what’s wrong? I just can’t imagine a reason. Unless the reason is him.”

(Him in the context of the above conversation is the Dick, Nelly’s ex (and seemingly present) boyfriend; she’s supposedly hooking up with me, but little Dick is also hanging around…)

“No no. No… I already said, I can’t tell you.”

The weather outside is shitty – cold and grey – the nasty snowless Sofia winter. That’s why the office room offers even more tangible sense of comfort, leaving the disgustness isolated outside.

“OK, don’t tell me if you don’t want to. But I think you’re just playing dumb here.”

“Am not!” Nelly rolls her eyes. “That’s just not something I feel like talking.”

“But if you have a problem we can try to deal with it together.”

“It’s not a problem that can be solved.”

“There ain’t such problems. Everything can be fixed, as long as you want it to.” Here I babble total nonsense and am completely aware of it. But sometimes I get overexcited, when I’m preaching.

“You’re talking just like Christo.”

“Who’s Christo?”

“I was telling you about him. He’s an Aries too, like you.”

“Great. Some guy to compare me with.”

“I’m not comparing anybody. But you’re talking just like him.”

“Ok then. Tell me now.” Here I unconsciously exploit the golden rule, that if you want a woman to do something for you, you can just let her insult you somehow. After that she will certainly feel guilty and will be ready to make her amends. She will even enjoy that. Actually at that very moment she will be positively happy since: a) she has behaved badly (yes, that makes the weasels happy); b) there is a chance she will feel uplifted from the redemption; and c) finally she will have a motive to do something that she wanted, but didn’t have the guts to do till now.


- My first time was awful. Abominable. Since then I can’t sleep with anybody.

My brain is clicking. Images are being projected on the inner side of my forehead – a box of condoms under Nelly’s bed; Nelly is hanging on Dick’s neck.

“Even with Dick? You haven’t had sex?”


“And what about those condoms under the bed?”

No answer. Obviously she doesn’t know what to say. It’s really dumb to be so directly caught in a lie.

“Well, Ok,” she says in the end. “But we haven’t slept together. We just tried to. And nothing turned out. Dick’s thing is too large.”

“It’s really huge,” she adds, seeing the expression of unconditional trust on my face.

“Well, how can you be so sure than it’s not gonna work with us?”

Nelly keeps quiet. In a bit I continue, in order to break the awkward pause.

“My first time was also awful. It could not have been so bad for you.”

“Why, what was your first time like? No way it was worse than mine.”

“Well, I was dating this chick,” I start off, “who had had her cherry popped at 13. At that time she was already 15. She looked older though, except that her tits were small. We met in a totally freaky way: Mum was supposed to call a friend – Patzaka (the same cowardly, flimsy camel from the Cancerine party) who was hooked to a very sucky phone service provider. They had mixed phone calls before too. And while he was calling, he interfered with the phone conversation of two unidentified chicks. He started messing with them, eventually he asked one of them, Siya, for her number. She refused to give it and hung up. The connection with the other chick was still up, though, and she gave him Siya’s number. Mum called Siya and they set up a date.

“On the date Mum was supposed to carry a walkman as a mark. He sat there and waited, with the walkman on. At some point a girl showed up and asked: “Are you Mum?” He looked at her, and since he couldn’t decide whether he liked her from that first moment, answered: “No, I’m not”. So Siya, being a nice and naive girl, confusedly turned around and started off. Mum jumped after her and said “Alright, It’s me. Hi.”

“In any case, Mum decided that it’s about time to introduce me to Siya’s two girlfriends. He took us to the ‘Yellow House’, where we sat, drank and chatted, and suddenly all three of them hopped up and went to the bathroom. Mum asked: ‘Which one do you like more?’ I, like a total ass, replied that I like the more talkative and noticeable one, which was a mistake. But I was a dumbass back then.

“Why was it a mistake?” Nelly asks.

“Well, the other one was quite petite and didn’t make much of an impression at first glance. But afterwards it turned out that she was way cooler. Even Mum was surprised at me then, but he didn’t say anything. So, when the three girls came back, Siya whispered something to Mum, then to Dessy; and suddenly I had a girlfriend. I’d never imagined that something like that could happen to me in real life.”

“Incredible.” Nelly chisels in sarcastically. She doesn’t like all these stories about other women. But I am dead set on getting payback for all the crap she has already told me about Christo and Dick.

Dessy and I slept together about two weeks later. It happened at a friend of hers. Everything was a set up, the purpose of the visit was known beforehand (actually, I didn’t know, but the three chicks I was with did) . Besides Dessy, there was the petite Cancerine (who I didn’t choose and made a mistake) and another one, whose apartment we were at. We had spaghetti, chatted a little bit while eating, suddenly Dessy в изблик на муза обясни, че спагетите са червеи в мензис, and shortly after that she straight out dragged me to the bedroom, and we started fucking.

“Only I was still a virgin and didn’t know exactly what I was supposed to do in that bedroom. All the more that Dessy wasn’t a pretty sight with her clothes off. It was just like in a porn film. She sat on me and started rocking back and forth, and it felt kinda gross. And outside the door, her girlfriends were peeking in but only saw a female leg dangling in the air. Little Dojh drooped from the whole thing and refused to get up again. I was really grossed out. As a result, I didn’t touch a woman for the next two years or so.”

“Good for you.”

“What, you’d be grossed out too if shit like that happened to you.”

“That’s nothing. My first time was really awful.”

I find that hard to imagine.”

“Ok, look.” Nelly’s tone passed into the storytelling specter, so I prepared to finally hear the reason why I couldn’t fuck her.

So she told me about how at some glorious moment Christo – her first and true love – rented a hotel room in Pleven, where he was from or where he studied, and for the first time committed sexual intercourse with her. Till then they had been in bed together only once, at her sister’s place in Studentski Grad in Sofia, where Christo showed her the power of oral love. In short, he exhibited virgin-pussy eater skills. Oh, how cool it was; she had never experienced that kind of pleasure ever before. First he read “Master and Margarita” to her, they just lying beside one another, then he started kissing and undressing her, and he was gradually moving south… Here Nelly gets too excited over the memory. She’s seeing slobbering tongues, I guess. Bleh.

Later on they didn’t see each other much, maybe once every two weeks, because they lived in different cities. Sometimes Christo went to see her in Turnovo, sometimes she went to Pleven.

That same night in the hotel room Christo suddenly decided that he’s finally gonna fuck the girl. He grabbed her and started screwing her. But Nelly, with her hyper-sensitive nervous system, couldn’t loosen up, maybe she wasn’t moist enough or something… And she was tight, that’s a fact… So while they where fucking, she felt a blinding pain and was going to pass out (and maybe she did, who knows), so she started crying, until it finally got into Christo’s thick cranium that he should discontinue the act.

1 hour passed.

Then Christo decided to give it another try.

Blood started gushing out. The girl was bleeding like a slaughtered pig and Christo freaked out, called the local Pirogov (* The emergency First Aid Service), threw Nelly into the hands of the carnivorous gynecologic hyenas and disappeared. Scared.

They’re pushing Nelly on a stretcher, the entire hospital staff around her (at 2 AM in a small town there’s nothing to do and one patient is like a God’s gift in the battle against boredom).

“In labor?” someone asks, filled with hope.

“No,” answers Nelly faintly.

“All right then, what’s wrong with you?”

Nelly, with her incredibly puritan understanding of the topic of sexuality, probably passed out again at that question. (Joke aside, it’s actually pretty embarrassing… What if mom and dad find out? Gosh…) Finally, she managed to explain to the amused nurses what exactly happened.

“We’ll stitch you up, don’t you worry. We’ll make you as good as new.”


It turned out that the girl had suffered certain lacerations. They patched her up and let her go. That was the ending to her defloration.

And, logically, following the shock from what happened, she couldn’t sleep with a guy again.

At least that’s what I thought. She thought the problem was the damage to the vagina. I really wasn’t sure about my deductions, but the condoms underneath her bed led me to believe that her frigidity was curable and all it would take was some more passion and romance to turn her on and make her forget all about defloration and stuff.

From that moment on I started working on it.


Nelly had two close friends – Milena and Camellia. Each one had a certain role in the soap opera that I was a part of, so here’s some short info.

3.1. Milena

Scorpio. Unlike Nelly she was a good-natured girl. She wasn’t that pretty but she won people over just with her personality. And, it’s important to note that she had lost her virginity precisely on one of the upper floors of 6 Samuil St. (Oh, what that 6 Samuil St. had witnessed…) Her first and at the time only boyfriend lived in USA and she really didn’t want to admit that he was too far away and that she should look for someone handy. I got on with her more or less, but she was first and foremost Nelly’s friend and during the soapy events she was on her side.

3.2. Camellia

Aries. She was slightly prettier than Milena, but she had a flabby ass. Actually, her ass had been famous for another quality – at the time she was the only girl I knew who practiced anal sex. As she had once explained to Nelly: “Well, it did hurt in the beginning, but then I got used to it.” She and her freak of a boyfriend had all kinds of such performances. He had her go and pee standing up together with him, or when she had her period they fucked in the bathroom so they don’t mess up the sheets. The last two seemed to me like total insanity.

Camellia didn’t like me much, but because of Nelly she put up with me. In that respect the feeling was mutual.

3.3. Dick

He can’t really be described as onе of Nelly’s girlfriends, but having in mind his striking resemblance to a female reproductive organ, we can still add him to this chapter. He was a loser with a disgusting thin moustache, posture of an upright piece of cheese and a slimily faltering smile on his face. He was constantly stepping on his overly long pant legs and was trailing like snot. I met him when I went to see Nelly and Vanya’s place for the first time – the plan was that me and The One We Never Talk About (* Person Zero. No other details needed. Another useless character. Best to just forget about him.) would set up the office of studio e-design in there.

It was a mid-winter day, right at the beginning of our acquaintance with Nelly. We got together a bit later – currently it was like me displaying certain curiosity to a strange good-looking girl, but I wasn’t trying to hit on her, nor seriously planned to.

So, The One and I are sitting in the living-room of the apartment some time in the evening, and Nelly and her sister are hanging around. There is another face in the room, but it’s somehow unnoticeable – flapped on the bed in the corner smirking like a moron. Doesn’t speak, doesn’t even make a sound. After a short reflection, I assumed that this is Vanya’s brother/cousin/boyfriend or something.

Nelly is hopping around playfully, teases me, talks gibberish and generally hangs mostly around me; I noticed that and was flattered. I asked her once or twice who that guy was, but didn’t get a straight answer. ”Just someone I know. Doesn’t matter. Let’s see now, how this lace will look on you if I clip it to your collar.”

But The One We Never Talk About, deprived of every bit of tact, goes on ticking: “Who’s that guy, what is he, who is he, what is he…” Finally Nelly had had enough and said: “My boyfriend.” After that it wasn’t so interesting anymore and we soon got up to leave.

And Dick, smeared like cum on wet sand, craning his scrawny neck, was watching.


Two weeks passed before The One We Never Talk About and I moved the equipment to the new office. During that time something was already cooking between me and Nelly.

Supposedly it was nothing, but we talked on the phone every morning, we spent our free time together, and I felt some semi-teasing, semi-serious tones creeping into our IRC chats. We went to the movies once (just before we hooked up actually) where I tried to hug her over the shoulders but she startled. I immediately retracted my limbs close to my body. (* “Close your eyes, fold your arms“… note: Prick the Goat (* a goat-like Muppet on an infant TV show that sings an infantile song.)). Another notable day was the one when she fed me tangerines – I was lying on her bed, she was sitting at the computer right next to me, and while we were chatting lazily, she was browsing the net and peeling tangerines, which I then ate. By then I had gone out of my mind completely; when I stood up to leave I actually wanted to go to the girl, who had her back turned to me and to the room, and slide my hands down her shoulders. I didn’t have the guts to do that so I just went away.

Everything started when I served her breakfast in bed. That happened a little bit before our final move in. The One We Never Talk About and I had gone to Nelly’s place the night before. We were parting in the hallway, making arrangements for the next day, carelessly laughing at senseless jokes. Silly talk was flowing uncontrollably. In a spur of frivolous originality Nelly declared:

“And tomorrow morning I want breakfast in bed!”

“No problem!” I said happily. “I’ll be here at 7:30”.

Nelly was laughing. She thought I was screwing with her. I laughed too, cuz I knew that in spite of what anybody thought there wasn’t any screwing. I also knew that the next morning I would have to get up at 6 am to go shopping for groceries.

Morning roosters on radio Viva with the morning radio joker Goro-The-Get-Up-And-Hurry; a leap in the Blue Bird, full throttle to the market at 43rd in Mladost – bought currant juice, a mix of nuts, 10 sorts of fruit and a red rose. That was for dessert (if the girl turned out to be herbivorous).

Somewhere around 7 am I rang the doorbell and Vanya, Nelly’s sister, opened the door.

When a man is stupid and doesn’t know shit about life, he does things, which destiny throws back in his face. That’s what happened – I didn’t offer Vanya any of the goods from the breakfast. As a result she came to hate me. Forever.

The breakfast smelled divine, a fresh aroma was wafting from the coffee; the tray was piled with colorful and bright things, and my teeth were clenching the red rose.

Nelly was sleeping.

“Mornin’,” I said through the rose petals. “Room service! Breakfast in bed!”

Nelly turned on her back and opened her eyes. Her face went through a wild period of mixed expressions, every single one a successor to shock and amazement except for surprise plus bedazzlement. Here eyes were blinking and the words refused to come out of her mouth.

She was acting strange, because she was probably not expecting breakfast at all. All the more a breakfast with a rose.

“Mornin’,” I repeated. “I hope you’ll like the food. I got mainly fruit and nuts, cuz I wasn’t sure what you eat for breakfast.”

“Oh, thanks,” she muttered finally. “I didn’t expect this at all…You shouldn’t have! And anyway, I can’t eat all of this by myself…”

“Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“Sure I will, a lot!” she asserted.

“I still can’t believe it!” she added a second later.

The morning we spent together was just lovely – we were both in a great mood, each of us highly intrigued by the other, and Nelly’s duckling yellow pajamas were stimulating the pleasure centers in my brain on a primary level. The rose also received a satisfactory amount of interest, which did not go unnoticed neither by me, nor by Vanya. She immediately jumped on me with spiteful remarks, starting off by calling me a giraffe. The weasel was just beginning with her vendetta; consequently she would become my enemy № 2 on the premises.

That particular event created quite a romantic and dramatic polarity – I got under Nelly’s skin and also got on her neglected sister’s nerves.

Later on that morning I drove Nelly to the university she was studying at, and then went home.


Nelly and I hooked up shortly after my PC got its new desk. We still hadn’t slept together, but we loved to just kiss or hold hands or to even only sit in the same room, each of us minding their business.

In the beginning everything was carefree and peaceful. But after the excitingly dramatic, full of deflorational revelations, I-can’t-sleep-with-you conversation on the bed at my office, certain mysticism shrouded our budding relationship. The motif of the forbidden fruit added a particular thrill to every kiss and every touch. Dick, on the other hand, was contributing to the overall tension with his unpredictable arrivals and departures. Subjected to such competition, I got so jealous that I tried to constantly stay close to Nelly. This mostly applied when she went home to her folks in Veliko Turnovo.

6 Samuil St. is an address in that very town.

6 Samuil St. is where I stayed when I visited Nelly in Turnovo for the first time. Some grumpy old lady was renting it out at a reasonable price. She insisted that we take our shoes off when we go into the rooms and gave us some knitted wool socks to wear.

Basically, the whole idea about me going to Turnovo popped up during a heartbreaking IRC chat that took place the previous night. Mum and Milady and some other friends had dropped by the office earlier that evening. After spending some time with them, I moved in front of the PC and logged on to see if Nelly was online (everyone protested violently against my self-expulsion, but futile…).

Nelly was there and while we were chatting I started as usually nagging on her to break up with Dick. I started getting frustrated and when I found out that Dick was also home in Turnovo, I decided that I couldn’t take it any longer and announced that I was coming for a visit.

Of course , Nelly opposed the idea.

Session Start: Fri Dec 24 23:41:55 1999

[00:48] <Nelly> I want you to embrace me and take me away

[00:49] <Nelly> somewhere far away

[00:49] <Rogger Dojh> you got it

[00:49] <Rogger Dojh> I’ll be in Turnovo tomorrow

[00:49] <Nelly> no, baby, don’t

[00:49] <Rogger Dojh> you can save me some trouble by telling me where you live

[00:49] <Rogger Dojh> or you can not do that

[00:49] <Rogger Dojh> well

[00:49] <Nelly> baby

[00:49] <Nelly> listen

[00:50] <Rogger Dojh> listen to what?

[00:50] <Nelly> there’s no way for you to come and for me to be able to spend even a little time with you

(She still didn’t know me well. She had no idea what I was capable of, once I got it into my head.)

[00:50] <Rogger Dojh> listen to that?

[00:50] <Nelly> I just can’t get out

[00:50] <Rogger Dojh> when there is a will, there is a way

[00:50] <Nelly> which is?

[00:51] <Rogger Dojh> you just pick up and leave

[00:51] <Rogger Dojh> meaning…

[00:52] <Rogger Dojh> ok

[00:52] <Rogger Dojh> do whatever you want

(Nelly is dropped, 5 minutes till she logs on again)

[00:57] <Rogger Dojh> re

[00:57] <Nelly> I got 13 more mins before my sister pushes me off the PC

[00:57] <Nelly> so cut to the chase

[00:58] <Rogger Dojh> as far as I get it

[00:58] <Nelly> [Rogger Dojh PING reply]: 1 sec

[00:58] <Rogger Dojh> you’re indifferent

[00:58] <Rogger Dojh> you’re just in love with me

[00:58] <Rogger Dojh> evidently that passes away

[00:58] <Rogger Dojh> how does that go…

[00:58] <Rogger Dojh> out of sight – out of mind

[00:58] <Nelly> bastard

[00:58] <Rogger Dojh> why should I cause you any trouble

[00:59] <Rogger Dojh> let me be always handy

[00:59] <Rogger Dojh> and as far as my feelings are concerned…

[00:59] <Rogger Dojh> who gives a shit

[00:59] <Nelly> I think that you are the only person after Christo, who I can love so unconditionally and devotedly

[01:00] <Rogger Dojh> are you going do it?

[01:00] <Rogger Dojh> because, as far as I understand, you want to stay with Dick

[01:00] <Nelly> when will I see you?

[01:00] <Rogger Dojh> tomorrow

[01:00] <Nelly> no, baby

[01:00] <Nelly> tomorrow I can’t

[01:01] <Rogger Dojh> then – when you come back, if you want to see me at all

[01:01] <Nelly> come tomorrow

[01:01] <Rogger Dojh> you can bring Dick to the date

[01:01] <Nelly> come tomorrow

[01:01] <Nelly> come tomorrow

[01:01] <Nelly> come tomorrow

[01:01] <Nelly> come tomorrow

[01:01] <Nelly> come tomorrow

[01:01] <Rogger Dojh> where can I find you!?

[01:01] <Nelly> come tomorrow

[01:01] <Nelly> tell me when you’re coming and I’ll wait for you

So this is how things turned round – at 1 after midnight it was clear that I would be traveling on the next day, around 6:30 AM. My friends were looking at me funny; but apparently they had started getting used to the fact that I had gone completely insane because that girl.

I borrowed some cash from Mum (the fact that I had a business mainly meant that I had to pay social security and prepaid taxes, and not that I was making money; I was a total newbie in the field and was completely spaced out…). So, the next morning, in the odious, filthy, ass-freezing winter, I showed up at the bus station and bought a ticket.

The ride was nice. I enjoyed the movie on the tiny bus-TV and watched the driver bravely top 80-90 mph. The bus itself intrigued me as well – until now I had never seen a vehicle with 11 gears.

I arrived, called Nelly, we met, found the place at 6 Samuil St., where I just threw my bags and after that we spent the whole day wandering around Turnovo. We ate at some pizza place and again argued over whether she should get rid of Dick or not. That night we went to some club at the fortress wall (* Veliko Turnovo was the third capital of Bulgaria (1187 – 1393) and therefore it has fortress walls) which was pretty cool. We could see the whole city from the panoramic window, as if we were at the cliffs in Sozopol – only we saw city lights instead of the sea. I liked the music they were playing at the club, had some drinks, talked lovey-dovey stuff… Since the girl had stayed by my side all day, I had managed to forget about Dick and I felt really good. Well, almost – from time to time she would startle and look uneasily at the entrance, in case an aborigine who knew her showed up.

As the night went on we got up and returned to 6. Samuil St.


6. Samuil St. was a converging point for many lines of events. Besides being a place I was renting and Milena’s place of defloration that was the address where Nelly used to pay the cable. That was also the address of the importer stamped on the covers of the CD-Rs I used to buy from Metro. I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that some brutal murder happened there or God knows what else.

The room I was renting was decently miserable – sad image of a bed, ancient furniture (agro-communistic type, dull and depressing colors, shabby rags – a real palace of the love pleasures, so ‘1984’). The only consolation was that in the dark all these details disappeared.

Nelly and I sat talking in the light for a while; I think we had some weird sandwiches I had prepared in Sofia for dinner. There was no music to listen to but that wasn’t a problem – I guess we were both totally into each other and were having too much fun just being together.

The cold did its job and at some point we got under the bed covers, holding each other and whispering sweet nothings. One word led to another, and pretty soon we ended up kissing in the sudden silence. My hormones hit me in the head with brutal force and as we were locked in the dark room, I didn’t find it all that impossible to sleep with her, no matter what explanations she gave me. I started undressing her, or rather unbuttoning parts of her clothes, taking the winter cold into consideration.

I will skip the erotic scene of purely sexual nature, to spare the reader certain phraseology such as: “My quivering manhood was about to penetrate her tepid tenderness but met the unexpected resistance of her untouched innocence”. Instead I will say, for clarity’s sake, that in spite of all my attempts I couldn’t fuck her. Not that I was devastated by that fact – it was enough that we spent 2-3 hours in bed, at almost zero sexual distance from each other.

Around 11:30 pm she left.  C’est la vie, I said to myself and fell asleep a happy man.


Three days later:

Session Start: Mon Dec 27 14:25:54 1999

[14:26] <Rogger Dojh> re

[14:26] <Nelly> you there?

[14:26] <Rogger Dojh> yep

[14:26] <Rogger Dojh> there was a blackout a few minutes ago

[14:26] <Rogger Dojh> it could happen again

[14:26] <Nelly> I hope not

[14:26] <Rogger Dojh> yep

[14:26] <Rogger Dojh> where did you and Dick go yesterday?

[14:26] <Nelly> is that some weird display of masochism?

[14:28] <Rogger Dojh> interesting question

[14:28] <Rogger Dojh> I hadn’t thought about that

[14:28] <Rogger Dojh> perhaps everything is some weird display of masochism?

[14:28] <Rogger Dojh> but I am not a masochist, I think

[14:28] [Nelly] PING

[Nelly PING reply]: 0 secs

[14:28] <Rogger Dojh> alright

[14:28] <Rogger Dojh> I think there’s no point in talking at all

[14:28] <Rogger Dojh> bye

[14:28] <Nelly> baby!

[14:28] <Nelly> ?

[14:29] <Nelly> what happened?

[14:29] <Nelly> Roggyyyyyyy!


After 6 Samuil St., which became something like a symbol of our relationship, came the night when Nelly slept at my place for the first time. It was actually then, when it turned out that she was not at all frigid. But I won’t go into details about that. The more interesting thing is that we had sex for almost 7 hours; and in the morning Dicky, who had in some way dig up my home phone number, called. Here’s what followed:

“It’s Dojh speaking,” I said picking up the phone. I had to reach over the naked girl for it, as the phone was on the floor next to the bed.

“Is Nelly there?” asked a velvety, drowned and perhaps slightly choked voice.

I was so surprised at that question (absolutely no one knew that she was at my place) that all I could say was this:

“Hold on” and handed her the receiver.

She took it with a confused expression on her face and said:


The person at the other end hung up.

“That was Dick!” she ascertained with a dramatic tremble in her voice and the magic of last night was suddenly ruined. Nelly rushed to find her cell phone and started dialing like mad. Finally Dick deigned to pick up. I don’t remember the conversation but in the end

Nelly announced she knew where he was going and started dressing.

“He’ll do something stupid!” she notified me hysterically. “You don’t know him. He really loves me. I must go to him. He’s completely capable of doing something stupid!!!”

Still young and foolish, I totally got into the part of the good friend; I even drove her to a certain point on her way to wherever. That probably happened, cuz, unlike Dick, I had already slept with her; and she promised not to do anything rash.

I felt completely self-assured after that night. Damn darn self-confidence! Damn phony promises! Damn naivete and striking lamerhood!

One thing’s for sure – that was the best fuck that I had had in my entire life until that day.


Our secret love nest was my place in Ivan Vazov. Still most of the time we spent together at the apartment we rented – residence for Nelly and Vanya and an office for me and The One We Never Talk About. I was basically living there – when I wasn’t working I preferred to stay with Nelly instead of my parents. I only went home to shower, to poop and accidentally grab a bite.

Most of my friends had already come to visit and see the new headquarters of studio e-design. The only exception was O-Gosh. One day he finally showed up. It was some time early in the evening. Nelly and I had gotten into this huge fight because of Dickys ever more frequent visits and the fact that she wasn’t breaking up with him.

(Here’s how the debate sounded, more or less:

“I’m coming back to Sofia tomorrow.” That’s Anliya, over the phone, from Turnovo.

“Will Dick be sleeping at your place?”

“Can you say anything at all without mentioning Dick?”

“When are you going to break up with him? I’ve gone completely insane already! I want to be with you and I want you to be only with me!

“I can’t, baby! Oh, how I wish I could!”

“So what’s the fucking problem?”

“I can’t leave him like that! He’s counting on me! He has no future in Turnovo, and he has nowhere to live in Sofia, and no one to rely on. It would be cruel for me to just kick him out of our place!”

“And isn’t it cruel for you to torture me like this?” I must admit with undeniable shame that I was a worthy opponent in the whole soap opera.

“I don’t want to torture you! But you have to understand!!”


“It is really hard for me! You must understand!”

“The only thing I understand is that you want to be with Dick and not with me. And I think that maybe it will be better that we don’t see each other anymore.”

“Baby, I love you!

Etc. etc. etc.)

The aggressiveness of the verbal messages was gradually increasing over time and the day O-Gosh’s came by, my jealousy reached the proportions needed for real actions.

When O-Gosh came to visit, Nelly had already gone hysterical. I had told her that I wanted to split up and right after that she had swallowed Uncle Xanax. I was in a terrible mood myself, I had not reached the break-up point yet, although the labor contractions were starting and our break-up was at the cervix of our relationship. Anyways, O-Gosh came to a horrible, depressing atmosphere, and as soon as he had arrived, I insisted that we left immediately for his house in Simeonovo. At least there I could get some sleep away from all my problems. So we got into the Blue Bird and set off for the suburbs in the foot of Vitosha Mountain.

We got to the gate of O-Gosh’s yard late in the evening. I was sitting there, benumbed (I really felt horrible, I was in shock, I still didn’t know how to control my feelings back then…) The headlights were shining in front of me, the engine was purring, and my brain was busy handling violent processes.

“I think I’ll be heading home” I said suddenly. “Well, at least I gave you a ride home.”

“Dude, you can stay if you want to, you know. I got a bottle of great rakia we could drink. ”

O-Gosh could see that I was out of space and was trying to cheer me up as best as he could.

He couldn’t.

“No, thanks. I don’t feel like doing anything. I just want to go home and pull the covers over my head and forget about anything.”

“I can leave you the bottle if you want.”

O-Gosh, God bless you for your good soul. And blessed is your true friendship!

The rakia was downed very purposefully that same night.

To give a certain closure to this chapter, I should mention that Nelly and I made up that same week. More than half of the rakia was still in the bottle, in order to mark a later noteworthy episode – THE PARTY AT NELLY’S – which I will tell you about in the chapter after the next.


As mentioned earlier, Nelly, Vanya and Dick were originally from Turnovo, and they often went home. In one of those particularly cold and disgusting weeks, when the freezing cold winter had its grip on Sofia and the dirty ice, crusty snow, and the overwhelmingly penetrating icy humidity were dominating the day, Nelly had gone home to her parents again and again I was spending an insane amount of time in front of the PC, chatting with her.

As the day of her return approached, I, being a nice guy, offered to pick her up from the bus station on arrival. Thought it was the right thing to do, especially considering the dreadful winter climate and the infernal public transport from hell, running around Sofia at that time.

Nelly, quite unexpectedly, refused. And that brought some very unpleasant thoughts to my mind.

“Well, then … why? What’s the problem?” I asked, while we were talking on the phone.

“Vanya said she’ll come pick me up. Don’t worry; I won’t break if I get on the bus.”

“Hey, I’m not letting you riding home on the bus in such lousy weather, ok?”

“Roggy, please! You don’t need to come there and get me!”

“You just tell me what time your bus comes in.”

“I don’t know! My dad is going to buy the ticket for me, I don’t know for what time exactly.”

“Smell the burning pants.” I thought.

“And is Dick coming to pick you up by any chance?” I gave my thoughts a vocal form.

Silence, then a stupid “Yes”.

“Then call him off.”

“I can’t! I told him, but he insisted!”

“I don’t care. What time are you coming?”

“I told you, I don’t know!”

So she never did tell me the exact hour of arrival. On the next day a quick scan through the bus companies resulted in 3:30 pm as a possibility. I decided to take a chance.

It was clear that Dick will be present for the heart-breaking encounter. I felt slightly insecure because of that and needed moral support. I called Milena, the only person close to Nelly

I had some positive feelings for, and talked her into coming with me. I went through Studentski Grad to pick her up and headed for the Central bus station.

I parked the Blue Bird in the side lane and Milena and I got out of the car.

Here is the cold, and the stinky fog that glues your nostrils shut; everything is blending into the ambiguity of the spunky-grayish colors… And at the corner of the bus station, a lonesome figure is standing like a worm with bones made of yoghurt; watching. I watch too, to find out why it is watching me, and realize – ha, it’s Dicky! Dick is watching how his loathsome nemesis, the Evil Tall One, is approaching. Oh, the horror Dick is going through at that moment of displeasure… And on top of everything the poor guy has been waiting at the bus station for an hour and a half, cuz Anliya told him she would be arriving at 2pm. But unfortunately the bus broke down.

Dick hates the Evil Tall One. Dick hates the cold. What malicious demon has brought these two evils together right now, and right here; to him?!

I wasn’t too thrilled to see him either. Though I had the advantage – as in time-space relation (I had with me somebody, whose good feelings were on my side), so in more general terms (I was fucking Nelly, whereas he could only lick her pussy due to sexually-dimensional incompatibility).

As if to make it worse on him, the bus arrived only 5 minutes after I had got there. And look, Dicky is dragging himself like snot brought to life through the bus station and approaches the bus. Nelly has either not seen me, or is pretending not to. She comes down from the bus, throws herself on Dick’s neck and gives him a kiss on the cheek. Touched by the whole scene, I come closer, accompanied by Milena, and say:

“My dearest, don’t I get a kiss too?”

Dick is staring at me like he just shit his pants, and Nelly’s eyes are throwing thunderbolts, incinerating me; not a girl, but a snake is rising there in front of me at that moment. Her whole being is sizzling with rage and resentment.

So that’s how I found out that I wouldn’t be getting a kiss. Eventually Dicky took Nelly’s bags, Milena helped a bit too, and I, taken out of balance, walked to the car and quite inadequately noted that since I was there anyway, I might as well give them a ride.

Nelly agreed. We put the bags in the trunk. Nelly and Milena got in the back seat. Dick started getting in the car, then suddenly jumped out and took off. Nelly opened the door and shouted:

“Dick, come here!”

Here, Dick stops but doesn’t return.

“Come here right now! Get in the car!”

And I am getting a brainache – my brain is hurting and running a fever out of pure horror. But wait, that’s only the beginning.

“GET IN!” Princess It’s-So-Nice-To-Be-With-Many-Guys gives an order.

Dicky starts getting in the front seat again, but I look at him and he pops right back out. He can’t stand sitting so close to the guy who is doing his girlfriend. I totally understand him. What I can’t understand is how come he still hasn’t smacked her (the Princess, that is) on the head.

“I will not sit in the front,” he takes a firm and manly stand, while tears are showing in his voice.

Finally Milena and Nelly make enough room in the back to squeeze in one worm extra.

He is sitting there and sobbing. I start the Blue Bird and drive off, but my eyes keep looking at the rearview mirror – Dick is actually crying! Water is running down his eyes, his pale cheeks are wet; his Dicky’s (oops, Adam’s) apple is spasmodically jumping up and down, and his face has cramped up – a man all around.

And so the four of us, like a big happy family, drove off on the icy road to Mladost. The whole scene boosted my adrenaline, which rushed by the gallon into my bloodstream. At one of the junctions we almost had an accident, which would have been my fault. But Fate favors the mad and those in love, and the Blue Bird was full of both. Thanks to that we got there safe and sound.

In Mladost we spent an hour or so, with me messing with Dick, while Nelly, Milena and Vanya watched the show from the sides. Then I got lost.

Now after that episode the coast is clear for the PARTY AT NELLY’S, which is happening some time in the next few weeks.


Subject: the Party at Nelly’s.

There was some reason for the party, but it has faded into the depths of the insignificant past. In any case I met up with Anelya the day before, brought her something (possibly a flower?) and when I found out that both her sister and Dick will be at the party, I decided not to go. I told her to have a good time and dragged myself to my parents’ place in Ivan Vazov.

Sitting at home in the evening. My PC is at Nelly’s. Sitting and feeling like crap – Nelly is with Dicky at the party. Typically my desire for liquor is growing proportionally to my bad mood, and there it is – O-Gosh’s monumental bottle of rakia, sloshing sweetly and boosting my self-assurance.

Some time around 10 pm I had drunk enough to not feel as bad about Nelly. On the other hand my need for social contacts took over me overwhelmingly. I didn’t want to sit alone in my room anymore, and that was it. The little kid stomped its foot, called a cab and, taking the only necessary luggage (i.e. the half-finished bottle), set off for Mladost.

The car stopped in front of the building. I paid the cabby with my last cash and got on the N-th floor. I rang the door bell and waited.

I could hear music, laughter and other signs of festivity coming from inside. I heard Dick’s voice and Nelly’s tinkling laughter. “I’ll get it”, she said. And she did.

“Oh! What are you doing here?” she greeted me with a moderately surprised cry.

“I love you too” I replied. “I’m coming to the party.”

“I thought you said you weren’t coming.”

“Thanks for the warm welcome. I’m here anyway . So where’s the party?”

In the meantime Dick tried to make his way into the hallway but was bluntly pushed out by Nelly. Perhaps her reaction was primarily caused by the predatory look I gave him.

“What’s that?” Anleiya inquired, squinting at the bottle of rakia.

“My booze,” I explained.

“You drank all that on your own?” Nelly picked up the pitch.

“Only half of it, and it wasn’t even today. Doesn’t matter anyway” I remarked and went into the living room, where Dick had appeared from.

“Yo, pigs!” I cheerfully greeted the group of Nelly’s classmates. They looked at me with dumb resentment.

“Hey everyone,” I added, hoping this message would be clearer to them.

“Hi”, someone mumbled. The looks of everyone else became heavy with hostility, and started dispersing in different directions.

That’s how the evening started.

The first scene of the party went on relatively peacefully. I was drinking quietly, aggravatedly watching Nelly, who didn’t leave Dick’s side. Vanya was sitting on a dresser, swaying her legs and squinting at me, her eyes filled with resentment. The others – they were living it up.

After a while I got tired of it all and intercepted Nelly in the hallway (which, given the dimensions of the tiny apartment, was also a kitchen). I was already quite frustrated, so I told her that her attentiveness towards Dick, compared to that towards me, was absolutely unacceptable. Unfortunately Sonya, some friend of hers from university, happened to be there too, and she all of a sudden took Dick’s side. Later on she even managed to have a one-on-one talk with me, going on about stuff that was none of her business whatsoever.

Then Sonya did the same with Nelly.

Finally, Nelly and I had the following conversation tête-à-tête:

“Do you like Sonya?” she asked.

“Yeah, she’s alright.”

“Well, she doesn’t like you at all. She said you were being an ass and was wondering why I even bother.”

As soon as she said that, I felt the rage rising up in my chest. Not towards Sonya, whom I didn’t give a tiny rat’s ass about, but to Nelly, who was standing there so casually, blurting out crap.

“But I told her she wasn’t right…” the girl just kept on talking.

“And what business is it of hers to discuss our relationship?” I inquired.

“She’s my friend,” Nelly replied.

“Oh, yeah? I should probably start telling my friends about it too.”

“I don’t mind.”

(If this story didn’t accidentally coincide with reality, etc. blah-blah-blah, this would be the statement to officially give me the carte blanche to write this part of the book.)

“So, now what, you’ll be staying with Dick all night?”

“He’s feeling really bad,” Nelly replied. “He loves me so much. And since you came over, he’s been feeling even worse.”

“So guess what? I don’t give a shit about how Dick feels.”

“No, but I do!”

The door to the hallway opened and somebody came in. That made us discontinue the conversation. Nelly started talking to her college friend and I went into the room, where the rest of the guests were congregated.

My radar located Dick immediately. He was sitting alone at the end of the table. I saw an empty chair next to him and headed that way. I sat down right in front of his wet, sleazy look and stared at him with unabashed resentment.

I sat there silent, glaring at his long locks and his thin unshaven moustache.

He was smoking quietly for a while, watching me in turn. Finally he confidently pulled on his cigarette and blew the smoke into my face.

I leaned forward, putting my hand on his knee gently.

“I like being harassed by pretty boys,” I said with a velvet voice. The slimy smile froze on his face, and my nostrils flared defiantly.

“Dojh!” Nelly’s voice rang. Panic and aggression had intertwined in her tone. She was just stepping into the room and her radar was also on.

I got up, happy to get away from Dick, without compromising my dignity, and headed to the bedroom, where at least I knew I could be alone. Nelly tried to say something, but when I passed her by, she hurried to Dick, to check what I had done to him.

In the bedroom I dropped on one of the beds, put my arm over my eyes and the alcoholic drowse descended on me. I felt really lousy and preferred to stay by myself… If I wasn’t expecting a couple of guys I had called after I came to the party, and if I had cash, I would have gone away. But so far, I was stuck.

Some time later the door opened and somebody came in.

“What are you doing here?” Nelly asked (obviously that somebody was her).

I didn’t reply. I didn’t even move.

“Come on now, what’s wrong with you?” she went on.

“Are you alright?” she added.

I moved my arm slowly and opened my eyes. I looked at her with a mean stare.

“No,” I answered. “I’m not alright and you know why perfectly good. Dick has been feeling really bad! Why don’t you think about how I feel?” and I answered my own question right away: “Cuz you don’t give a shit, that’s why.”

“It’s not true!” she raised her voice. “But I can’t dump him. He can’t make it without me!”

“Oh, so I can?”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be alone in a town and be dumped by the only person you count on!”

“Then he can go back to Turnovo, where he won’t be alone.”

“You know he can’t find a job there!”

“He can’t find a job here either.”

“Right now he’s looking for one with a friend of his.”

“I don’t give a damn what he’s looking for. I just want him out of my life!”

“I need time to make such a decision and arrange my life in a way that will be good for you.”

“And I think you are just a bitch and that perfectly explains everything.”

Nelly gaped at me dumb.

“And it is about time we broke up,” I went on. I was fed up it with all that Dick shit.

“I can’t take it anymore!” suddenly she went hysterical. “I can’t stand either of you! Everyone harasses me, my parents when I get home, my sister, and you, and Dick! Eventually I will kill myself!”

She climbed onto the night stand under the window and opened one of the wings. Immediately a stream of icy air poured in from the outside.

“I’ll jump out the window!” she put one foot on the sill and stood there in quite an uncomfortable, stretched, ugly and ridiculous position. “And then I won’t care about anyone! You will feel sorry for me, but you won’t be able to harass me anymore! And you will be better off like that. You’ll miss me at first, but after a week or two you’ll forget all about me!!”

At that moment I got seriously worried. That hysterical creature looked so unbalanced, that I expected to see her really taking a plunge head first.

“Come on, cut the crap,” I said. “Get off of there.”

“It’s not crap! I’ll jump and I’ll be done with this whole nightmare!”

“Look, close the window and let’s sit down and talk it over.”

“I love you,” she stated suddenly and got off the night stand. She closed the window and turned to me.

“You’re drunk,” she stated. “I don’t like you when you drink.”

“And what do you think, what’s the reason I’m drunk?”

“Don’t start again!!”

The door opened and her sister came in, putting an end to this painful fiasco.

“Dojh, somebody’s at the door looking for you,” she announced with an acid voice and disappeared.

“Go see to your guests,” Nelly commanded, a habit she had picked up around Dick. My first reaction was to oppose her, but eventually my desire to see my friends prevailed over the repulsion to obey orders, so I had to adhere.

It was Ender.

Never in my whole life had I been so happy to see a friend. I felt like hugging him, it was so wonderful to see a friendly mug that said in a deep voice “Yo, pig!”

“Hey Ender!” I replied. “Fucking great you came!”

“Why, what’s up?”

“Shit. But I don’t feel like talking.”

“Your bitch piss you off?”

You can say that.

“Fuck her. I don’t get why you’re even wasting your time with her.”

“Ok, look, let’s not talk about it.”

“Ok, whatever. Got booze?”

“Here,” I showed him the already-more-than-the-half-finished bottle.

“Ooh, you’ve done well. I got wine.”

“Well, let’s sit down and get started.”

Just across from the door there was a big bed – the same, on which Nelly and I discussed our lost virginities at the dawn of our relationship. The distance between the bed and the door was the only unoccupied space in the room, so we put in three chairs – one for each of us and one for a table in the middle. We sat down and started drinking and gabbing. Ender kept insisting that I tell him what had got me so pissed so eventually I told him about Dick and how Nelly had been stuck to him all night.

When he heard that he flipped out.

“Who is it? This one?” he asked when Nelly was squeezing by to go out. She gave him an icy look. From the moment she saw him at the front door she had bristled up all over. Now she had pushed the door into him on purpose.

“Ender!” I raised my voice to stop his outburst but he paid no attention to me whatsoever. He stretched out his leg and pushed the door back.

“Yo. Come here for a sec,” Ender said and got up. Immediately I jumped to my feet too.

“Ender, shut up.”

“Don’t you close the door on me!” Nelly ordered him, her snout angrily pointed.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Ender inquired.

“Ender, shut up!!!” I repeated, getting as close to him as possible, and lowering my voice, continued. “Stop it, you’re messing things up for me!”

“I don’t give a shit,” he replied. “I think she’s being an ass , then he turned to her. “Yo, can’t you be more careful when you walk by?”

“Yeah, right, why did you sit right next to the door at first place?” Nelly gnarled at him.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me where to sit?”

“This is my place!” Nelly informed him. At this point Dicky shuffled in and dragged her out to the hallway. I showed Ender the chair and he sat down reluctantly.

“Dojh, you’re in deep shit,” he stated with a competent tone. “And now again I have to save your ass.”

“My ass? You’ve been nothing but trouble,” I replied.

“You’re full of shit,” he said. “Forget about that bitch.”

“I won’t. Just drop it.”

In a minute the argument subsided into conversation and by the time we discovered both bottles were empty, we were already piss ass drunk. Ender scanned the room but didn’t find any more alcohol.

“Let’s go buy some” he said when he returned to our chairs.

“K, let’s go” I said. We squeezed out into the hallway and right at the door Nelly sprung up right beside me like a poisonous mushroom.

“Where are you going?” she asked me.

“It’s none of your business,” Ender snapped at her.

“To buy booze,” I clarified. “We’ll buzz you, when we get back.”

“You won’t find any store open at this time.”

“We’ll give it a try.”

“Dojh, come on,” Ender rushed me, annoyed that I’m talking to Nelly. He was overlooking the simple fact that in spite of all the scenes and soaps, we were both very much in love and cared for one another in some way.

It was a fierce, ass-freezing winter night. Dirty snow and polished ice. Ender and I speeded up, rushed by the piercing cold, our senses numbed by inebriation.

We walked around the whole neighborhood, had a chat with some misguided patrolling cops, saw a couple of closed shops, but didn’t find a 24 hour store that sold liquor. Finally we went back empty handed. Bored by the evening and the party, we stretched on the beds in the bedroom and without turning on the light we just let the booze and doze to deal with our brains.


The door opened and closed. My intoxicated conscience registered the fact but refused to react.

“Dojh,” Nelly’s voice said. “Some friends of yours arrived.”

The door opened again.

“Hey, Rogger!” a Twin’s voice resounded.

“Dojhy, how are you, darling?” Mimi’s voice added.

For the second time that night I slowly opened my eyes. This time, though, I didn’t see Nelly’s pale face, but two identical heads peeking from both sides of Mimi’s long dark hair. Familiar faces! A happy feeling of security and friendship sneaked through my jaded psyche and evoked a pale smile on my lips.

I managed to get on my feet with certain difficulty. I swayed and smiled wider.

The Twins were here. They were my salvation and my return ticket to places far away, places I wanted to go to that very second.

“Let’s get outta here,” I said.

The Twins stared at me.

“Yeah right, but we just got here! Let’s stay for a while and mingle, and then we’ll go.”

“Come on, let’s scram,” I said again.

“Dojh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” fawned Mimi, sincerely worried about me. She could see how drunk I was and my dreadful mood scared her, because even the alcohol could not make it go away.

“A horrible evening,” I said. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Who’s that?” one of the Twins inquired and pointed at Ender on the other bed.

“Is that Ender?!” Mimi exclaimed. Ender himself was sound asleep.

The Twins tried to attract his attention but when they figured that it was impossible , they left the room and went socializing. Mimi stayed with me.

“Roggy,” she said. “Don’t be depressed. Everything will be just fine!” Her voice sounded so beautiful – as if an angel had come down from heaven in the shape of a woman and was singing to me. “What did that damn Nelly do again?”

“Doesn’t matter. I just want to get away.”

“Ok, Roggy, we’ll call a cab right away. Just calm down.”

“I’m totally calm. I just want to leave.”

“Ok. Ok!” she said and went to find the Twins and call a taxi.


The cab was waiting for us downstairs. It was a small car, a tiny Daewoo, and definitely couldn’t fit all five of us – Ender was there too, though it was extremely difficult to wake him up. Actually Mimi managed to accomplish this noble deed – I had already gone to get some cold water to pour on him, which fortunately I didn’t do.

“You’ll have to call another cab,” the driver stated unpleased that we didn’t think of that ourselves, but also pleased that we’ll have to pay double.

“Go on then!” the Twins replied.

The second car arrived. We got in and headed for OC (* OC – Ovcha Coupel, a.n.), where the Identical Ones lived. We were gonna party on without any external unwelcome characters.

We are driving on the ring road. Black night all around us, snowy white fields, and just the occasional truck swishes by. Ahead of us is the car with the Identical Ones and Mimi, and Ender is traveling with me, constantly touching something on the dash board – he’s very drunk and very cheeky.

Just before the first turn to Simeonovo, the other cab turns on the emergency lights, pulls over and stops. Seconds later our car does exactly the same.

“What’s going on? Why are we stopping?” I ask.

“We had a flat.”

“And what about the others?”

“They too.”

When we got out we saw that the other taxi actually had two flat tires. We had gone with high speed through a particularly nasty pothole.

Out in the night, the cabbie is wandering around the car, setting up jacks.

“Can a pothole give you a flat?” I ask him. In the meantime his buddy is calling a third car to bring new tires.

“What the hell is your problem?” the cab driver snaps at me. “With these narrow tires – one blow and the rim cuts through the whole tire! This is the fourth time I’ve had a flat today! And I’m paying for all out of my own pocket!”

The cabby was vinegar-sour. I started cheering up amidst the whole absurd… There wasn’t a soul miles around; only virgin snow, with howling wolves (I imagined), and I was there with two cabs and two frustrated, whiny drivers with unpleasant personalities, pleasing me by having problems… And Ender, who was pissing noisily right next by the road, cussing loudly just in case.

Finally they fixed one of the vehicles, the rest of us moved in the car, which brought the spare tires and we all drove on to the OC.

That same night I told Mimi and the Identical Ones stories about the dramatic events in my life within the last month and that brought to the idea of a soap opera play, called The Bitch in White (Mimi proposed The Widow in White as a classic title, but I clarified that we were talking real bitch here).

That’s how Nelly got her new name. And it clicked in like a piece of puzzle.


A week or two later, at the next party at the Twins, I had already broken up with Nelly and was feeling quite well. I mean, sure, there wasn’t a single second the girl didn’t occupy all my mental resources, but at least emotionally I had loosened up.

Mimi’s dad had bought a video camera from Germany and since I had scribbled down the soap opera script at the previous party, we decided that this time we were going to film it.

That’s how the cult film The Bitch in White, shot with an amateur camera, came into being.


Mimi – as The Bitch in White and Dick;

Rogger Dojh – as Rogger Dojh and Dick;

The Twin Ivo (the one, who was dating Mimi) – as Rogger Dojh, Dick and The Bitch in White;

Mum, Milady and the other Twin – as a doorbell.

Actually, the entire performance was carried out by the Twin Ivo. I turned out to be mind-numbingly lame before of the camera, Mimi just did her part, but Ivo simply nailed it. During one of the scenes, Mimi playing Dick and the twin playing Nelly, I couldn’t make myself stop laughing and despite my best efforts the camera was shaking the whole time.

Later on that movie caused a particularly intense fight with Nelly, but that’s not the point. A much more interesting moment was the one, when The Bitch in White declared that we couldn’t have sex anymore, because every time we did her vagina itched and hurt afterwards. Soon little Dojh started showing STD signs too, so I was forced to visit a dermatologist.


The doctor examined the Little General and stated that it was a bacterial infection, caused by poor sexual hygiene. (So, before going to bed with the girlfriend, wash your hands and take a good bath, so that you don’t have to listen to that kind of revelations at the doctor’s office. Even if you’re in a big hurry at a party or whatever – wash your hands!)

(* Teddy Bear is always clean / Doing mountain river swim. / There’s no reason good for you / Not to do what bears do! ­ a.n.)

The bacterial infection was accompanied by faint signs of Candida. I had a microbiological test done, just in case, after which I was prescribed antibiotic powder and chamomile tea with baking soda, into which I was to soak my willie every evening. A week later I was completely healthy, which on the other hand wasn’t exactly the case with Nelly.

Nelly, respectively, had to visit the gynecologist. I had even found an elderly lady doctor, well known in the medical circles for her excellent professional skills. She was working with my dermatologist so that, when couples like us showed up, they could treat them in tandem and follow up for recurrences. But as soon as I picked up the issue, all hell broke loose.

Nelly went into schizoid hysteria, her eyes popped out, and she started rambling sporadically:

“Hell, no! They will stretch me out and they will stick ironware up my vage! I am not going. I will never go to a gynecologist! You cannot imagine how horrible it is!”

“Oh, come on, all the women I know have been to a gynecologist and are still alive and kicking.”

“I am not going! We won’t have sex if I can’t do it like that, but I’m not going to a gynecologist!”

“And now, because of your obtuse pigheadedness, we’ll just sit all night and BS?”

“I DON’T CARE! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT! I’ve only slept with you and there’s nowhere else I could have gotten this!!! You’re like a hotbed! You told me you had had a fungus infection with that other one, right?!”

“I got cured then.”

“So you didn’t get completely cured! You told me yourself that these are very stubborn diseases!”

“Look, don’t go to the gynecologist if you don’t want to. But this is ridiculous. Even more now, when we know what it is. You need to see a doctor and not wait like this, it might get worse.”

“It won’t! Get out! I don’t want to see you anymore! You’re the reason I am like this now!”

She rushed around the place to pile up the few things I had there (it had recently become clear that I wouldn’t be able to pay rent and I had moved out my PC). She handed them to me with an insane staring look and started screaming at me again. I, on the other hand, put the stuff aside and tried to calm her down. I started talking to her with a soothing voice, which seemingly did the trick. Finally, when I saw she had loosened up, I got out of there, because I was on my last nerve.

As a result, soon after that incident (and a couple of more similar hysterical episodes) we broke up for the second time – that happened around the end of March and we remained separated almost till the end of April.


Another month passed, during which the Twins had their BDay party, I had mine, and in the meantime e-design moved to a new office – in one of the Gamers’ Workshop (* The best Bulgarian gaming magazine at the time.) rooms. I had already designed their website. Plus, one of the four editors – Groove – was a really close friend of mine. But that has nothing to do with the soap opera I was starring in, so I will not go into detail.

Here’s what happened in April:

Session Start: Thu Apr 13 15:54:11 2000

[15:54] <affliction> hello

[15:54] affliction is wee@isdn-1­12.netplus.bg * r

[15:54] affliction on #bulgaria

[15:54] affliction using sodre.nj.us.dal.net www.ishell.net

[15:54] affliction End of /WHOIS list.

(Nelly’s ident “wee” and my ISP’s IP – why wasn’t I surprised at who was lurking there?)

[15:54] <Rogger Dojh> affliction is wee@isdn-1­12.netplus.bg * r

[15:54] <Rogger Dojh> this seems very familiar

[15:54] <Rogger Dojh> what’s up?

[15:54] <affliction> are you doing that to my ICQ??????

[15:54] <affliction> and if you are, stop, pls

[15:54] <affliction> !!!

[15:55] <Rogger Dojh> I ain’t doing anything with nobody’s ICQ

[15:55] <Rogger Dojh> what exactly is somebody doing with your ICQ?

[15:55] <affliction> I got a msg today, that you added me.

[15:55] <Rogger Dojh> well

[15:55] <Rogger Dojh> so what

[15:55] <affliction> and right after that my UIN!!!! froze up

[15:55] <affliction> and doesn’t want to start anymore

[15:56] <affliction> and it’s weird because all the others are running

[15:56] <Rogger Dojh> you’re online in ICQ right now

[15:56] <affliction> yeah, with ICQ98

[15:56] <Rogger Dojh> so what’s the problem

[15:57] <affliction> ICQ99b doesn’t run with my UIN

[15:57] <Rogger Dojh> I think you didn’t choose the right institution to complain to

[15:57] <Rogger Dojh> try with Mirabillis

[15:57] <affliction> very funny

[15:59] <Rogger Dojh> you’ve selected a very appropriate nick

[15:59] <Rogger Dojh> it suits you

[15:59] <affliction> do you know what it means???

[16:00] <Rogger Dojh> ah, you were the one with all the smart questions!

[16:00] <Rogger Dojh> what do YOU think???

[16:01] <affliction> I think, that I learned that word yesterday

[16:01] <affliction> and I will be very surprised if you know it

[16:02] <Rogger Dojh> feel welcome to be surprised

[16:02] <affliction> exactly

[16:02] <affliction> what do you think it means?

[16:03] <Rogger Dojh> ugh

[16:04] <Rogger Dojh> it has a slightly complicated translation

[16:04] <Rogger Dojh> affliction ­ “It’s-So-Nice-To-Be-With-Many-Guys”

[16:05] <affliction> actually my yesterday’s nick was something that if stretched to an extreme can be used in that sense – apostate

[16:05] <affliction> affliction: pain suffering, anything causing pain or distress

[16:07] <Rogger Dojh> as I have already noted, I know what it means

[16:08] <affliction> actually that’s laudable

[16:08] <affliction> cuz that’s an SAT word

[16:08] <affliction> and it’s one of the few that I can’t remember

[16:08] <affliction> same as with apostate

[16:09] <affliction> when I use them as nicks I remember them more quickly

… (much later that night)

[00:40] <ancillary> tell me

[00:43] <ancillary> wouldn’t you want to be with me again if you knew that I love you more than anything, and that I will never be possessive again?

[00:44] <Rogger Dojh> it wouldn’t be you

[00:44] <Rogger Dojh> it’s like being with you, but with your head chopped off

[00:44] <Rogger Dojh> but that wouldn’t be as scary

[01:19] <ancillary> have you had sex with another girl, after we split?

[01:19] <Rogger Dojh> no

[01:20] <ancillary> I c

[01:20] <ancillary> thanks for answering

[01:21] <Rogger Dojh> :)

[01:21] <Rogger Dojh> I’m not hiding anything from anybody

[01:21] <ancillary> and you shouldn’t

[01:21] <ancillary> :)

[01:22] <Rogger Dojh> I’m not looking for praise for my noble deed, either

[02:57] <apostate> I know, your needs matter to you the most

[02:57] <Rogger Dojh> how long did I plead with you to go see a doctor

[02:57] <apostate> and that your freedom is an inseparable part of you

[02:57] <Rogger Dojh> ??

[02:58] <apostate> so that you can fuck me after that

[02:58] <Rogger Dojh> really

[02:58] <apostate> that’s when it all started

[02:58] <apostate> that Saturday

[02:59] <Rogger Dojh> oh, yeah

[02:59] <apostate> so many times I go back to that Saturday

[02:59] <apostate> you told me

[02:59] <apostate> that sex is an inseparable part of our relationship

[02:59] <apostate> and I said in panic, that I should go, that I won’t go

[03:00] <apostate> and then you weren’t the same anymore

[03:00] <apostate> no sex – no love

[03:00] <apostate> you know, fuck first than love

(the bitch here quoted me – quite precisely, by the way)

[03:01] <Rogger Dojh> where are you getting at?

[03:01] <apostate> the bad thing is that I started becoming like you

[03:01] <Rogger Dojh> actually desire is more important than sex itself

[03:01] <Rogger Dojh> but the quintessence of love is exactly there

[03:01] <Rogger Dojh> it’s all hormones

[03:02] <Rogger Dojh> love and sex simply go together

[03:02] <apostate> yep

[03:02] <apostate> I hate sex

[03:06] <Rogger Dojh> but I’ll really appreciate it if you cut that crap about seeing each other

[03:06] <apostate> do you know why I hate sex?

[03:06] <Rogger Dojh> I don’t particularly care

[03:06] <apostate> alright

[03:06] <Rogger Dojh> you can spare me the details

[03:06] <apostate> I am going to jump out the window right now and there’ll be no way for us to see each other, even if you wanted to

[03:07] <apostate> you know what always bothered me about killing myself?

[03:07] <apostate> the fact that you won’t even know that I’m not there anymore

[03:08] <apostate> not that you care

[03:08] <apostate> but just FYI

[03:08] <Rogger Dojh> that’s the little thing that pushes me away from you

[03:08] <Rogger Dojh> you’re so vengeful

[03:08] <apostate> everything about me pushes you away

[03:08] <Rogger Dojh> the fact that you bite back, when you feel hurt.

[03:09] <apostate> you’re the only one that makes me like that

[03:09] <apostate> I think that it’s something about you

[03:10] <Rogger Dojh> so, what I’m hearing is:

[03:10] <Rogger Dojh> if I want to be with you – I am a wonderful human being

[03:10] <Rogger Dojh> if I don’t – I am an abominable person

[03:10] <apostate> no

[03:11] <Rogger Dojh> no “no”

[03:11] <apostate> you’re not wonderful

[03:11] <Rogger Dojh> the entire log is right in front of me

(Alright, I’m not a wonderful human being. But that’s not the point here :)

[03:14] <apostate> because I love you

[03:15] <apostate> and it’s so hard to give up the person you love

[03:15] <apostate> it’s not possible that you’ve never felt that

[03:15] <apostate> actually nothing is impossible

[03:16] <Rogger Dojh> alright

[03:16] <Rogger Dojh> look

[03:16] <Rogger Dojh> I’ve taken a final decision for myself

[03:16] <Rogger Dojh> so what I’m going to say won’t change a thing

[03:16] <apostate> please

[03:17] <Rogger Dojh> I loved you and I will love you but I will never give my love to a girl who’s capable of hurting me the moment she sees she is going to lose me.

[03:17] <apostate> I don’t wish to hurt you

[03:18] <apostate> I am crying like a baby here

[03:18] <apostate> don’t do this

[03:18] <apostate> don’t destroy my life

[03:18] <apostate> because you are my life

[03:19] <apostate> I love you

[03:19] <apostate> I want to hold you and kiss you

[03:19] <apostate> to be with you

[03:21] <apostate> I miss your lips, and I miss your eyes, and I miss your arms, and I miss you

[03:22] <apostate> why don’t you teach me how to love you

[03:22] <apostate> and I will teach you

[03:23] <apostate> it can be like a fairy tale

[03:23] <apostate> because I act like that only when I am hurt

[03:23] <apostate> but if we teach each other how not to hurt one another

[03:23] <apostate> we can make it

Session Close: Thu Apr 14 03:40:36 2000

(Three days pass…)

Session Start: Mon Apr 17 00:49:40 2000

[00:49] <Nelly> hello :)

[00:50] <Rogger Dojh> hi

[00:50] <Nelly> feeling better?

[00:51] <Rogger Dojh> dunno

[00:51] <Rogger Dojh> I’m sick and tired and I don’t really give a fuck

[00:56] <Nelly> I went out for pizza today, with Milena, and now my belly hurts

[00:56] <Rogger Dojh> don’t go for pizza with Milena anymore

[00:57] <Nelly> btw the greeting card you sent me yesterday was very nice, the second one :)

[00:57] <Nelly> I won’t, I’ll do it alone from now on :)

[00:57] <Rogger Dojh> those were the only two cards from the “Love” section that I liked [00:57] <Rogger Dojh> btw

[00:58] <Rogger Dojh> still, what did you do about the Candida?

[00:58] <Nelly> about what?

[00:58] <Nelly> nothing

[01:00] <Rogger Dojh> do you feel ok?

[01:00] <Nelly> well, at least there aren’t visible signs of not being ok

[01:03] <Nelly> do you want to go see a movie tomorrow?

[01:04] <Rogger Dojh> I’m not sure about tomorrow

[01:04] <Rogger Dojh> lets talk again one of these days

[01:04] <Rogger Dojh> I want to see Dogma

[01:04] <Nelly> alright

[01:04] <Nelly> me too

[01:04] <Nelly> and Milena is so excited that she already has a list of all the showings (shows)

[01:05] <Rogger Dojh> Ender recommended it today

[01:07] <Nelly> so, when?

[01:07] <Rogger Dojh> I don’t know exactly

[01:07] <Rogger Dojh> I’m not really feeling very well

[01:08] <Rogger Dojh> I’ll get some blood drawn in the morning

[01:08] <Nelly> what do they need your blood for?

[01:08] <Rogger Dojh> for tests

[01:09] <Rogger Dojh> when something’s wrong with me they always draw my blood and run tests on it

[01:09] <Nelly> what tests?

[01:09] <Nelly> I guess it brings them pleasure

[01:09] <Nelly> maybe they’re all vampires

[01:10] <Rogger Dojh> no, the blood work could very specifically show, what is causing my fucking temperature and why I’m not getting better

[01:10] <Rogger Dojh> and indicate, if it’s something serious

[01:10] <Rogger Dojh> that’s how they discovered my pneumonia last winter

[01:11] <Nelly> something serious???

[01:11] <Rogger Dojh> otherwise it had seemed like it’s nothing more than a common cold

[01:11] <Rogger Dojh> well, I could be dying

[01:11] <Nelly> stop it :((

[01:13] <Nelly> you haven’t started dying yet, have you???

[01:14] <Rogger Dojh> I haven’t

[01:14] <Nelly> ооо, at least that’s nice

[01:14] <Nelly> why do you think you could be dying?

[01:14] <Rogger Dojh> I don’t like this question

[01:14] <Nelly> ok

[01:15] <Nelly> the better strategy then would be to think that you’re probably not dying :)

[01:15] <Nelly> that will keep up your spirit :PPP

[01:16] <Rogger Dojh> you came to terms quite fast with the thought of me dying

[01:17] <Rogger Dojh> that’s totally like you

[01:17] <Nelly> I know you’re not dying

[01:17] <Nelly> I won’t let you

[01:18] <Rogger Dojh> thank you

[01:18] <Rogger Dojh> :)

[01:18] <Nelly> you can always count on me :))

[01:19] <Rogger Dojh> I don’t think so

[01:43] <Nelly> oki

[01:43] <Nelly> I’m going to get some sleep

[01:44] <Rogger Dojh> you do that

[01:44] <Nelly> are we going to the movies tomorrow or not?

[01:45] <Rogger Dojh> not tomorrow

[01:45] <Nelly> oki

[01:45] <Rogger Dojh> but this week for sure

[01:45] <Nelly> I’ll log into IRC again some time this week

[01:45] <Nelly> oki

[01:45] <Nelly> sweet dreams

[01:46] <Rogger Dojh> good night

Session Close: Mon Apr 17 01:50:13 2000

Session Start: Tue Apr 18 01:47:12 2000

[01:47] <Nelly> hello

[01:47] <Rogger Dojh> hi

[01:52] <Rogger Dojh> what about tomorrow at 4?

[01:53] <Nelly> is there a Dogma show at that time?

[01:53] <Nelly> Mir Cinema

[01:53] <Nelly> Denkoglou St. 6

[01:53] <Nelly> tel. 9861 135 Dogma

[01:53] <Nelly> 11:30 am, 12 pm, 4:30 pm, 9:30 pm.; 7 pm., all days except Tuesdays

[01:53] <Nelly> Modern Theater

[01:53] <Nelly> Maria Luisa Blvd. 26

[01:53] <Nelly> tel. 835 646

[01:53] <Nelly> Dogma

[01:53] <Nelly> 4 pm, 18:15 pm.

[01:54] <Rogger Dojh> cool, let’s go to Mir at 4:30

[01:54] <Nelly> ok

[01:54] <Nelly> Milena wanted to see it too, you wouldn’t mind if I invited her, would you

[01:55] <Rogger Dojh> up to you

[01:55] <Nelly> oki

[02:41] <Rogger Dojh> to be honest, I’d feel better if you came alone

[02:42] <Nelly> alright

[02:42] <Nelly> Milena bothers you?

[02:42] <Rogger Dojh> no, she doesn’t

[02:43] <Rogger Dojh> 10x

[02:43] <Nelly> ok

[02:43] <Nelly> if you want to, you can tell me why; if not – I won’t ask questions

[02:44] <Rogger Dojh> I would have told you already if I wanted to :)

[02:44] <Rogger Dojh> without you asking

[02:44] <Rogger Dojh> you should know me at least that well

[02:44] <Nelly> ok

[02:46] <Nelly> btw, the person I knew wasn’t really you

[02:46] <Nelly> so you can just cross out your last line

[02:47] <Rogger Dojh> hahaha

[02:47] <Rogger Dojh> and who do you think it was? Uncle Fucker?

[02:48] <Nelly> I didn’t really know the person I’ve been talking to lately

[02:48] <Nelly> to say so

[02:54] <Nelly> do you still want us to go see a movie?

[02:54] <Rogger Dojh> yeah

[02:54] <Rogger Dojh> why

[02:55] <Nelly> oki :)

[02:55] <Nelly> I thought after what I said, you’d cancel

[02:55] <Rogger Dojh> no way, I’ll give you a chance to meet my new me

[02:56] <Nelly> I don’ know whether I’d really like it

[02:56] <Nelly> and honestly, I’m scared

[02:57] <Rogger Dojh> it was your idea

[02:57] <Nelly> yes it was

[03:03] <Nelly> ok

(From here on goes an unbearably dramatic, deeply moving dialogue, and I would rather spare the readers the soapy brainache it can cause; the essence is: we shall remain separated.)

[03:25] <Nelly> :))

[03:26] <Rogger Dojh> so tomorrow we will see Dogma cuz the movie is good, and that’s it

[03:26] <Nelly> exactly :)

[03:28] <Rogger Dojh> bye, c u  tomorrow at 4:30 pm in front of Mir

[03:28] <Nelly> can I bring Milena?

[03:29] <Nelly> sweet dreams :)

[03:29] <Rogger Dojh> I asked you not to bring her. Still, it doesn’t mean that I’ll leave, if I see her

[03:30] <Rogger Dojh> and indeed, I’m not going to sleep

[03:30] <Rogger Dojh> bye

Session Close: Tue Apr 18 03:30:14 2000


The day X.

The Identical Ones had told me once about something they had seen in a movie: a way to find out whether a woman is alright and really cares. The method was called The Bottom Test. Here is how it goes: you unlock the door of the car for the lady, she gets in, you close the door after her, and you go round the back of the car, in order to remain out of her sight. To pass the test the girl has to be thoughtful enough to reach out and unlock your side of the car, before you use your keys. Of course, this does not work on cars with a central locking system, but luckily enough that was not the case with my old, simple Skoda.

I agreed to see a movie with Nelly, only to put her to The Bottom Test. I even had a bet with Mishell about the outcome. The wager was a bottle of red wine that we were to drink together some day within this year. (Mishell was a girl from Dobrich, I met her online, and we hit it off right away; being my soulmate at the time, she was all in the know of my personal developments.) My bet was that Nelly will fail. Initially Mishell totally agreed, but then she had to oppose, in order to make the bet possible .

I went to the date. At 4:15 pm, Nelly was already there. She had on this insanely tasteless outfit – black patent shoes (real ugly and particularly shiny ones; why on Earth would one be wearing those at all?), blue jeans, black cardigan… Somehow all the pieces really didn’t go together, and weren’t even nice by themselves too – the jeans were cheap and old, and the cardigan was BLACK. A black cardigan! Not a black leather jacket, not a black dress, nor even a nice hand knitted pastel-colored cardigan. A cardigan. And it was black.

Anyway, we met; we shook hands, exchanged a few meaningless comments and went to see the movie.

We went inside and watched in utter lamb silence.

Despite all the hype, it turned out to be one boring, annoying and stupid piece-of-shit movie.

Two hours later we walked out of the dark movie theater into the bright sunny day and headed towards the car. We walked for a while and pretended to have small talk. I believe, I was actually trying to convince Nelly to give her a ride home, and she was being theatrically stubborn about it. Eventually she agreed, of course.

We approached the Blue Bird from the right. For the first time in my life I came forward and opened the door for a girl, then waited for her to settle in. Nelly thanked me, delightedly surprised.

I shut the door, walked around the back of the car and as I was at the trunk I saw Nelly stretching over and unlocking the other door for me. I got in and without any notice grabbed the girl and started kissing her. She responded eagerly.

Here’s how we got back together again.


Our reincarnated relationship was magnificent. Or at least it was magnificent during the first few days.

After the doctors could not cure my tracheitis, sinusitis, laryngitis, (and whatever pulmonary diseases a person can think of) for two and a half months, and they had already stuffed me with all kinds of chemistry, finally I found a lady doctor who, besides being nice and pretty, really knew what she was doing. She examined me, checked my blood work, looked at me fastidiously and stated:

“Unless you start sleeping and eating regularly, nothing will help you. Your body needs rhythm and regimen.”

And she was right – because of all that bullshit around Nelly I had no appetite whatsoever, and couldn’t sleep more that 5 hours in a row – and that’s 5 hours during the day, not like regular people, in the night. So, after some thought she prescribed me Redadorm – the sleeping pill of Death, which also turned out to be a real drug.

Then came the evening when I was supposed to start the treatment – at 8 PM I was to take a pill, have dinner and be in bed by 8:30, and go to my special place, where palm trees grow and the sun always shines…

But here’s what really happened: I had a date with Nelly during the day and that same evening she came over.

We went home and I, being the good kid that I am, took my pill, we had dinner and after that situated ourselves on the bed.

“I’m gonna go,” she said at some point, while lying next to me. “You need to sleep.”

“Stay,” I replied. I had a silly, happy smile all over on my face – the pill was already working, but I was still awake, and suddenly I was high, for the first time in my life. All troubles had vanished from my mind, my will was numb, and I just enjoyed lying so carelessly, smiling, having Nelly leaning over me and talking, her hair tickling my cheeks.

“You said yourself that I have to let you sleep.”

“Screw it,” I answered. “I’ll start going to bed on time tomorrow.”

The girl cuddled next to me and we went on talking. We were both happy to just be together again.

Time rolled on, it was already about 10 pm; we were talking and kissing, so one thing led to another and we ended up having a real nice fuck – like people who hadn’t had any in over a month. I didn’t care about bacterial infections, actually I didn’t care about anything – my intoxicated conscious had melted down completely.

It is needed to be noted what a brilliant comment Nelly made, after I came:

“Do you know that your cum was bitter?”



“Why, how does it usually taste?”

“Salty. Now it was bitter.”

Well, how do I explain to her how much she had bittered up my life…

That was the last time that we slept together. After that I loosened up, stopped behaving like a big shot and she started getting on my nerves right away. Naturally, I was really frustrated with this clear-cut tendency – when you play it rude and tough, you get this little treasure – a sweetheart, a real noble princess. But as soon as you go into Niceguy – a cobra slithers out of the kitten skin and starts hissing and spraying venom.

Things didn’t go smoothly – we were in love really bad, but despite that we were constantly fighting. The tension was building up and became unbearable at some points. And Nelly was lying to me – while she was home with her mom in Turnovo, Dick had already started living at their place in Sofia all the time; and Nelly claimed that he was in with her Turnovo too.


Session Start: Mon May 01 23:39:55 2000

[23:46] <Rogger Dojh> so all the parasites cleared from your place?

[23:47] <Nelly> parasites

[23:48] <Nelly> my sister left

[23:48] <Nelly> yes

[23:48] <Rogger Dojh> no

[23:48] <Rogger Dojh> I mean from your Sofia place

[23:48] <Rogger Dojh> I can see your sister is online from Sofia :)

[23:49] <Rogger Dojh> come on, tell me what happened?

[23:49] <Nelly> well, I guess Dick has gone home for Easter

[23:50] <Rogger Dojh> so, he’s coming back to Sofia after that?????

[23:50] <Nelly> I guess

[23:50] <Rogger Dojh> and what’s next?

[23:50] <Rogger Dojh> I thought you had managed to get rid of him

[23:50] <Rogger Dojh> :(

[23:51] <Nelly> I’m sorry

[23:52] <Rogger Dojh> ??

[23:53] <Nelly> that I disappointed you

[23:53] <Rogger Dojh> so what are we going to do?

[23:54] <Nelly> will you wait for me tomorrow?

[23:54] <Rogger Dojh> where will we go after that?

[23:54] <Nelly> somewhere

[23:54] <Rogger Dojh> where’s that somewhere?

[23:54] <Rogger Dojh> look, tell me what you have decided

[23:55] <Nelly> wherever you say

[23:55] <Rogger Dojh> with me?

[23:55] <Rogger Dojh> to my place?????????

[23:56] <Nelly> I will be in big trouble if I do that

[23:56] <Rogger Dojh> screw it, tell me what you are going to do

[23:57] <Rogger Dojh> are you with me, or with everyone that doesn’t want us to be together?

(Looking back – that was actually everyone that knew us – my friends couldn’t bear to look at Nelly, hers couldn’t stand me, parents and relatives were strictly against the relationship… and on top of everything Dick was pouring out negative mana too…)

[23:57] <Nelly> with you

[23:57] <Rogger Dojh> well then come with me

[23:57] <Nelly> Dick is not coming home tomorrow

[23:58] <Rogger Dojh> alright, do whatever you want

(I was already utterly frustrated with the total passiveness of that girl. She was really good at giving promises and doing nothing about. And I was subconsciously challenging her to bring me to such rage, so I would achieve the craved motivation to finally dump her.)

[23:58] <Rogger Dojh> I don’t care when he is coming back

[23:58] <Rogger Dojh> he can go fuck himself

[23:58] <Nelly> ?????????????????

[23:58] <Rogger Dojh> gotta go

[23:58] <Nelly> alright

[23:58] <Nelly> wait

[23:58] <Nelly> please

[23:59] <Rogger Dojh> what

[23:59] <Rogger Dojh> you don’t know what you want

[23:59] <Rogger Dojh> am I supposed to know

[23:59] <Rogger Dojh> you always have some problems with us being together

[23:59] <Rogger Dojh> why don’t you just tell me to go to hell

[23:59] <Rogger Dojh> and there won’t be any more problems

(…I needed just a little bit more… to grow up and willingly get out of that stupid nightmare.)


Day last.

In the late afternoon Nelly and Fuzzy came to visit me at my office at Gamers’ Workshop.

I was pissed at Nelly and saw them in coldly. I worked until I had finished my tasks and let them browse some magazines. It was a ridiculous situation, awkward and melancholic. An hour passed and they got fed up.

“We’re going,” Nelly said.

“Alright,” I replied.

I saw them to the door.

“Don’t I get a hug?” Nelly asked.

“No,” I answered.

She looked at me with the traditional soapy sharp expression. She stalled for a second and then left.

I sat at the PC five more minutes and suddenly something came over me. I decided that I should definitely spend the night with Nelly, jumped out of the office, hopped into the Blue Bird and started circling round the neighborhood. I was hoping to come across them while they were walking to a bus stop.

I didn’t see them anywhere and headed for Mladost 3 – I was sure that at least there I will find Nelly. At the Eagle Bridge bus stop I slowed down a bit and woe and behold – Fuzzy is standing there alone. I pulled over right away.

“Hey!” I said through the open window.

“Hi,” she answered, somewhat surprised, somewhat bored. I too was overdoing it with the impulsive bullshit and she could see it very well. “She just got onto the bus and headed home,” she added, foreseeing my question.

“Thanks,” I said. I floored the accelerator and rushed to Mladost. I was certainly going to overtake the public transport.

In the evening twilight I parked in front of the building, right across from Nelly’s doorway. I leaned back and waited.

Fifteen minutes later I saw a familiar silhouette in the rear mirror. The girl spotted the Blue Bird from afar and came straight to me. She got in.

“Hi! What are you doing here?” she inquired.

“I’m waiting,” I answered wisely.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me.”

“That’s not quite true. I really, really want to see you. Actually I have an idea – let’s spend the night together.”

“I can’t, honey,” she said.

I had completely gone mad. To not have it my way was not an option. I had decided that no matter what everyone else does, things will be as I want them to be and I wasn’t sparing means and nerves to achieve my goal.

“Why? Is Dick waiting for you?”

“No, my sister is upstairs. She’ll kill me, if I go out now.”

“I don’t give a crap about your sister.” Thoughts were rushing through my brain. “Look, either we spend the night together, or we break up.”

“Now you’re talking crap.”

“It’s not crap. We must be together tonight.”

“Dojh, you know we can’t have sex. I’m having problems again.”

“I didn’t mean sex. I don’t care where we’re gonna go. We can go to a club, or go visit Fuzzy, I just don’t care, as long as we’re together.”

“I can’t honey. You must understand.”

“I am being dead serious when I tell you that we either spend the night together, or we break up.”

Nelly gave me a long stare and that obviously convinced her that she can’t make me change my mind.

“Alright. But first I need to go to the bathroom, brush my teeth and change.”

“Ok,” I agreed to compromise.

She got out of the car and disappeared into the doorway.

Five minutes passed.


After fifteen minutes I started to get nervous. I turned my entire attention towards the door and witnessed an interesting scene.

At the back of the hallway, right opposite the front door, there was a pointless, completely unnecessary niche in the wall. Inside the niche, even more ridiculously, was a glass door, inserted diagonally. The only use for the whole creation was that everyone facing the entrance could see the elevator, reflected in the weird glass door.

The elevator came down. The elevator door opened a bit and then shut abruptly. That happened a couple of times, after which the elevator went back to the N-th floor without anybody getting out.

“Hm,” I thought. “As if Dick is upstairs? Geez, what a lying little bitch…”

Several minutes later Nelly still hadn’t showed up. I got out of the car and went to the front door.

I no longer had a key. I had given it back to Nelly one or two days before. And since there was no way I could get in, I waited.

A minute later some neighbor came out of the entrance with his dog and opened the door for me. I got inside just in time to see the elevator come down, stop and get back up.

I waited for it to stop and pushed the button. I got off on Nelly’s floor and stood in front of the apartment.

I rang the bell.

I heard three shouts from inside:

“I don’t want him in my house!” Vanya shrieked.

“Let him come in!” Dick gave a war-cry.

“Dick, get away!” Nelly screamed.

In my mind I held my head in my hands. Dear Lord, what did I get into?

Nelly opened, squeezed out and pulled the door behind her.

“I can’t go out!” she said with a glassy look. A soapy look. A look that gave me the creeps.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I said.

The door opened again and Dick started making his way out to the stairs. Nelly pushed him back and went in after him. A second later she came back out with her purse on her shoulder.

“Let’s go,” she said.

We got into the elevator and set off.

After we got out of the cabin, it got back to the N-th floor, to pick up another stray passenger. Who could it be, I wonder?

“That’s Dick!” Nelly exclaimed snappily, so we waited for him at the front door.

Dick is walking down the stairs, shaking. He is looking at me frightfully; “Get lost,” he says, “Fuck off!” and keeps marching forward. I stand there and, as pissed as I am about the whole dykeness he has produced during the time I was dating Nelly, I watch him. I watch him and at the same time I wonder at the situation. I’m starting to get amused – everything is so absurd .

I brush off the ends of the white silk kerchief that I’ve tied on my shaven head with a cocky gesture and take a step forward. Dick stops in front of me and pushes me in the chest.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” I ask the existential question of all times.

Dicky stands there and doesn’t speak anymore, only his lips moving pitifully.

“Are you some big shot or something?” I continue the wholesome dialogue.

“Stop it!” Nelly screams and pushes in between us. My blood is boiling, and the thought of beating up Dicky fills me with tense and cheerful anticipation. But I’ve never fought in the street before and that’s why I keep it low. Nothing else is stopping me – even common sense, as Dick is in such bad shape that there’s no chance he can harm me in any way.

Covered behind Miss It’s-So-Nice-To-Be-With-Many-Guys, Dick begins to blurt things out again.

“I’m gonna break your teeth, asshole” I say. Dick starts reaching over Nelly to me.

“I’ve had it with you two!” Nelly announces hysterically and heads off. “I’m outta here! Do whatever you want, I don’t care!”

And there he is – Dick is right in front of me and nothing stands in between us now. I give him a greasy smile and get a hold of his lapel. If I’m not mistaken, the technique I take him down with is Tae-Otushi. I let him fall carefully so that he doesn’t break his cheesy neck, or some cheesy bone. I lie across him on the ground and start strangling him. Dick is now shaking uncontrollably – with rage, adrenaline and who knows what else.

I smile nastily into his face and tighten the strangling hold down. Dicky starts flapping convulsively.


Nelly dashed into the entrance and started screaming:


That line finished me off. The neighbors! Dear Lord, why didn’t I think of them earlier?

I got up with a bored air, walked past Nelly and headed for my car. At that point Nelly was helping Dick get up.

I started the engine and reared. Nelly rushed out into the parking lot and shouted something. I stopped and opened the door. While [D20] she was getting into the car, Dick appeared into the street and started broadcasting verbal messages.

Nelly froze up at the open door. Then she backed off and headed back to Dick.

I pulled the door and reared up. Nelly stopped halfway and turned to me.

“No!” I continued an insane inner argument. “There is no way I’m leaving just like that, not after all this BS! She’s coming with me, even if it means Andromeda Shun has to die!”

So I stopped. Nelly stood and stared. I reared up a couple of meters. Nelly ran towards the car. This time I made her run a bit more so that I can get her further away from Dicky; and he was standing there like a peed-over pelargonium.

Nelly finally deigned to get into the car entirely and shut the door behind.

“Where to?” I asked and started maneuvering to get out onto the boulevard.

“I can’t!” she said all of a sudden, her stare glazed. I peered at her and shivered – her face had changed, her features rearranged, her lips – thin and white; a sinister transformation. Not that there was any real physical metamorphosis – it was just that a muscle or two strained, another one – wrongly loose… The hysterical expression of the gynecological moments had appeared on her face.

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” she repeated erratically.

‘You can’t what?’ I inquired.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…” Nelly wailed. She had clenched her hands in her lap, doubled up and shaking all over.

Now I was totally freaked.

“What’s wrong? “ I asked.

“I can’t I can’t I can’t.” she replied. She was staring unseeingly somewhere in the space in front of her.

I stopped maneuvering and hugged the crazed thing on the seat next to me. She was so tense, like I was trying to hug a vibrating piece of rock.

“Calm down,” I started with a quiet and serious voice. “It’s ok, it’s alright, calm down. Relax, nothing really happened. Calm down, now.”

Stimulated by the warm tone and the soft muttering, Nelly started coming to senses. She loosened up a bit and I started the car in the fallen silence.

“I can’t!” came out of her mouth the moment she saw the apartment building recede. “I can’t I can’t I can’t!”

I pulled over, pulled up in one of the neighboring parking lots, stopped and I turned the engine off.

“We’re not going anywhere,” I said. “Don’t worry. Just relax. We’re not going anywhere.”

And this therapy of relaxing gibberish seemed to work again.


Half an hour later.

I had lain across my seat, my head in Nelly’s lap, her hands stroking me. We were talking quietly.

“I love you!” she whispered. “I want to be able to swallow you and carry you with me everywhere!”

I probably smiled. For the first time anybody had said something like that to me. Not that I insisted on being swallowed (at least not literally), but it sounded sweet and touching.

Her hands went on caressing me. She kept talking, but now she changed the subject abruptly.

“Denny,” that stupid nickname again! “You are sick. I’m serious, you need to see a shrink.”

This time I kept silent. I was completely dazed and confused.

“I beg your pardon?” I said finally.

“You’re sick. You need to go see a doctor!”

“How on Earth did you come up with this?” I still couldn’t believe my ears. Nelly in fact seemed to be talking seriously.

“You’re acting weird,” she said.

“I am the one who’s acting weird?” I exclaimed in complete astonishment. “Me? So you find it strange me being completely pissed with you sucking Dick while dating… me?”

Nelly smiled.

“You should know he’s very aesthetically gifted in that department,” she answered with a naughty voice.

Apparently she was trying to share that she liked his cock.

I sat up in my seat. I looked at Nelly, no more questions asked. My desire to have my way and spend the night with that abomination in a woman’s body evaporated.

“Leave, if you please,” I said.

She threw herself at me, trying to hug me. I pushed her away, reached over and opened the door at her side.


She pulled the door back and shut it.

“No,” she said.

“Look, we’re through. I don’t want anything to do with you. Go away.”

She glazed her stare. Her cheeks tightened and her lips started trembling like the wings of a seriously disturbed butterfly. Then a soft whisper slipped out with her breath: “I can’t”.

My brain said: “Arghhhh!”

“Tell me we won’t split up,” uttered Nelly, fallen into one of her senseless demented psychotic states of idiotic soapiness.

“On the contrary,” I stated. “Now, please, be so nice to leave immediately.”

“No!” the girl started mumbling. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

I got out of the car. Nelly also got out. I got back in but before I managed to lock the door on her side she sneaked in next to me. The cheap trick did not fly.

“Go!” I insisted. Nelly spread limbs towards me. I pushed them aside, disgusted. “Stop it!” I added.

“I won’t go!”

Her eyes were round with thespian feelings.

I sat and hectically wondered what to do. Finally I figured it out.

“I’m sorry. I spoke thoughtlessly. The thing about splitting up was complete nonsense.”

Nelly threw herself on my neck. I endured that outburst and compelled myself to continue some kind of conversation. In about 10 minutes Nelly happily declared that she’s going home, because her sister is waiting for her. We separated calmly, and I furiously jumped on the accelerator, revved up the engine and drove off, heading far, far, far away, to my dear own nest and the normal human relations.


The day after. 8:30 in the morning.

The phone next to my bed rang, as I was dreaming my seventh dream. It rang and it rang and it rang and I finally picked it up.

“Hey Danny!” Nelly’s voice sang cheerfully into the earpiece. “How are you? What are we going to do today?”

Her good mood felt to me like a piece of garlic, applied rectally. All night long I had been twisting and turning in bed, tormented by the previous evening and by the fact that I obviously had no other choice but to break up with the girl I was in love with. I had nightmares, relived a bunch of terrible emotions… for myself I had put an end to our relationship.

“We’re not doing anything today,” I replied in such a hostile tone, that the silence which took over the line was almost hissing with tension. Or had the guys from the telephone company messed up the wires again?

“Why?” Nelly finally said.

“I told you yesterday – we’re through.”

“But then you said you didn’t mean it?!?”

“I lied. I told you that so that you would leave. That was the only way I’d get you out of my car.”

More silence.

“I’m coming over,” Nelly said and hung up.

I sighed heavily, kissed goodbye the idea of another hour of sleep and started moving around the house – to wash up, shave, and so on.

In less than 20 minutes the doorbell rang. It was Nelly.

I opened.

She is standing there and glaring at me with a staring look and puckered lips. Her femme-fatale demeanor is making me sick.

“What’s the matter?” I ask.

“Can I come in?” she replies.

I let her in. I’m wearing just pants and a vest. She is standing in the hallway, watching me. I’m heading for the bathroom to go on with my morning rituals, but she stops me and tries to embrace me. I pull away, horrified with the prospect, and Nelly is almost about to burst into tears.

“Look,” I say, “go home. I don’t want to deal with you anymore.”

“I’m not leaving!” Her voice is firm. But I’ve already had it.

In search for a way out I recollect an episode, where I’m in my boxers, going to the bathroom at home during the night, while Nelly is lying, covered in my bed. “Where are you going?” she asks. “To the bathroom,” I answer. “You can’t get out like this!” Nelly retorts and sits up in the bed, panicked. “Like how?” I inquire. “In your underwear! God knows what your parents would think we’re doing?!?” “And what are we doing, you reckon?” I am trying to be logical. “YOU ARE NOT GOING OUT LIKE THAT!” Nelly bets on the much more effective command than on the questionable outcome from the argument. I make one more step toward the door and all of a sudden Nelly is already in the corner of the room, trying to hide behind the bed.

I also recall that the reason for the girl’s strange behavior is her fear of my mother.

Nelly is trying to hug me again and brings me back into the present. This motivates me to act quickly.

“Mom!” I call from the hallway.

Nelly is pissed. I got her there – she really has to leave. Her soapy inclinations do not offer a soapy exit from the situation.

“What?” my mom calls back from the balcony.

“Come here for a sec!” I shout.

Nelly’s nostrils widen with resentment.

“Goodbye,” she says sharply, opens the front door, steps out and after giving me a finishing hateful look, disappears from my life forever (oops, correction, we are going to have one more final encounter) – with a bang.



My mom got into the hallway.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing. Well, you know how Nelly is afraid of you. I just wanted to get her lost.”

My mom looked around puzzled and after she didn’t find Nelly anywhere she obviously decided her mission was accomplished and went back to her work on the balcony.


A few weeks passed. I gradually started pulling myself together. As it usually happened in such moments  I turned to Mimi for moral support and we spent a lot of time, telling each others stories. She has broken up with the twin Ivo at about the same time so she had piled up quite a lot of soapiness as well.

One cold evening Mimi called me about some party at a friend of hers in Liulin. We agreed to meet with her and Tedi (a classmate of hers from high school) with the Blue Bird on Eagles’ Bridge at the bus stop with the popcorn. There often were cabs parked on the sidewalk so I decided I could probably да се намърдам.

In order to make a right at Eagle’s Bridge and get on the sidewalk right away, I, very non-typically, went by the corner of the University and went down towards Mladost. The lights on Eagles’ Bridge went red and I stopped in the rightmost lane. Casually I moved my look to the right and – woe and behold – Nelly is sitting on some damn bench with some guy and is staring at me.

The girl jumped up right away and came to my car. She tried to open the door on her side but she couldn’t – it was locked. I just looked at her continuously and when the green light came, I started off, turned and right after that pulled over and parked.

Obviously at that moment Nelly decided that I’m stopping there because of her and ran towards me. This time she opened the door on my side (ooh, smart doggie, how quickly it learns, woof, say wooooof!).

“Hi,” she said instead.

I kept silent. What was the point in talking?

“Are you going to come home and sleep over tonight?” the little Bitch in White threw her incredible proposition right in the air. For a second I startled but then remembered that about a week before Nelly had found me in IRC and had whined about the same thing – there wasn’t going to be anyone home, her sister was in the 6th bear’s ass, Dick had gone into the ass of the Dingo dog, basically everyone had hid anally, and she was terribly scared to stay alone at the her place.

“No,” I answered firmly.

“You are the only one that I can count on! My sister and Fuzzy are in Turnovo, Kameliya went to a trip with her boyfriend and I can’t stay alone at home!”

“Call Dick.”

“He’s in Turnovo too.”

“I’m busy. I can’t.”

The Bitch in white was still hanging above the door. I was wearing a short-sleeved thin shirt and outside had suddenly gone awfully cold.

“Close the door, if you please.”

Nelly’s stare glazed. You could interpolate the rest already – the lips, the tragic expression, the quivering nostrils, and so on. I се изприщих with horror – what had I done to deserve this belated encounter! What did I do to sin so, oh, dear Lord, thou art in Heaven?!

I got out of the car, since Nelly refused to get lost. As soon as she saw me getting out she started stretching out her limbs towards me. I frantically pulled away and using the calmest tone I could possibly mobilize, I said:

“Our relationship is over. There can be nothing between us anymore. If you please, leave me alone. I’m cold staying out and I want to get into the car and shut all doors close.”

The Bitch in White pointed her muzzle a bit more. Tears budded on her little eyes.

Salvation came down in the form of Tedi. She pranced over, happy and cheerful as usual, and while Nelly was watching tensely, I got into the Blue Bird, unlocked the other door and let Tedi in. She chirped something cheerful as a greeting and I felt like hugging and kissing her all over.

Nelly threw me a long, incinerating stare, said “Goodbye” and slammed the door.

“Did I mess something up?” Tedi said worriedly.

“Oh God, no! You just saved my life!’ I replied. Tedi never even knew the deep feeling I implied into those words.



(Part of the erotic play of brain horror “The Tiny Bitch in White meets The Evil Tall One”)

Session Start: Tue Jan 20 23:34:39 2000

[03:45] <Nelly> now I am kissing you slowly and softly on the lips

[03:46] <Nelly> and the nose

[03:47] <Nelly> I want to slide my tongue along your neck… and ear veeeery slowly

[03:48] <Nelly> and then kiss your right arm all the way to the fingers

[03:49] <Nelly> and kiss each finger veeeeeeeeeeeery slowly

[03:49] <Nelly> I want you to feel good

[03:51] <Nelly> and I want to caress you

[03:51] <Nelly> everywhere

[03:51] <Nelly> and I want you to wear that shirt so that I can unbutton it and take it off you

[03:52] <Nelly> and to kiss you till you forget to speak

[03:55] <Nelly> that will happen as soon as I get home

[03:55] <Nelly> I promise you

[03:56] <Nelly> more like I promise myself

[02:19] <Nelly> honey, about Tuesday …

[02:19] <Nelly> if I stay at your place

[02:19] <Nelly> i.e. if I can come

[02:19] <Rogger Dojh> yeah?

[02:20] <Nelly> will you buy condoms?

[02:20] <Rogger Dojh> yeaah

[02:20] <Rogger Dojh> but the ‘if’ condition sounds bad to me

[02:21] <Nelly> well, I don’t know what will happen till Tuesday

[02:21] <Rogger Dojh> what’s supposed to happen?

[02:22] <Nelly> I don’t know, honey

[02:22] <Rogger Dojh> brb

[02:23] <Nelly> that idiot Dick doesn’t want to come on Tuesday

[02:23] <Nelly> damn moron

[02:24] <Rogger Dojh> ??

[02:24] <Nelly> he was supposed to come back to Turnovo on Tuesday

[02:25] <Rogger Dojh> well if you don’t come because of him

[02:25] <Rogger Dojh> …

[02:25] <Nelly> and what am I supposed to do?

[02:25] <Rogger Dojh> whatever you want

[02:25] <Nelly> I will shoot him

[02:26] <Nelly> bad thing is I don’t feel anything for him anymore

[02:26] <Nelly> that is very sad

[02:27] <Nelly> you there?

[02:27] <Rogger Dojh> yeah

[02:28] <Nelly> well, say something

[02:28] <Rogger Dojh> something

[02:28] <Nelly> I am feeling worse than you are

[02:28] <Nelly> believe me

(Here the audience starts laughing so hard that the actors pause the play for a moment and wait for the noise to die down; but even after that there is the occasional smothered giggle: “That Nelly,” two people on the second row whisper, bowing their heads to one another, “She really can make people laugh!”)

[02:28] <Rogger Dojh> there’s nothing to talk about

[02:29] <Nelly> I want to talk

[02:30] <Rogger Dojh> I hope you don’t expect of me to feel sad that you don’t feel anything for him anymore and despite that can ruin a night we have been expecting for one week?

(Here the audience says: “Waaah! A whole week!!!” The two people from the second row exchange comments: “That Roger guy, he’s something, right…”)

[02:30] <Rogger Dojh> i.e.

[02:31] <Rogger Dojh> saddened by the first only

[02:31] <Rogger Dojh> the second one really depresses me

[02:31] <Nelly> you know, this is terribly sad

[02:31] <Nelly> I would like to talk about it when we see each other

[02:31] <Nelly> what happens to the feelings

[02:31] <Nelly> why do they die?

[02:31] <Rogger Dojh> what a wonderful subject to discuss

[02:32] <Nelly> it’s not funny

[02:32] <Nelly> and don’t make fun of this

[02:32] <Rogger Dojh> I couldn’t laugh even if a whole circus enters the room…

Session Ends Successfully

Tags: ,

WILD BITCH SEASON 3 (English draft): Things will never be the same again

... If you want to get a girl, one of best/most effective[B1] ways is to start hitting on her best girlfriend...

Wild Bitch Season
by Rogger Dojh

Support the online publication of Wild Bitch Season by donating 1 BGL!

      / |  '     \
     (  )         0          It was a dark and stormy night...
      \_/-, ,----'
         ====           //
        /  \-'~;    /~~~(O)
       /  __/~|   /       |
     =(  _____| (_________|

Things Will Never Be the Same Again (translation early alpha)

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, as well as to real events and localities, is purely coincidental and unintended.


… If you want to get a girl, one of best/most effective[B1] ways is to start hitting on her best girlfriend…

December 2000.

A few days before the end of the month.

Mila is lying sick at home. Damn rotten flu! Runny nose, cough … and 39.5 degrees Celsius[B2] . The girl is throwing up and feeling so bad she could hardly spell out her own name.

It’s around 10 PM. Her husband is not home. She has curled up in bed and can’t settle[B3] – every touch of the cool sheets sends painful signals into her brain. Her muscles are severely aching, her mind plays the same visions over and over again; the air she breathes feels icy against her fiery, dried up throat… The minutes are passing disturbingly slow and even the covers she is hugging with the hope to receive some warmth [B4] cannot comfort her.

It’s 11 PM. Mila gets up with a great effort to try and find aspirin, amidofen, paracetamol[B5] or whatever else to bring the fever down. She starts wandering around the apartment, swaying; finally goes to the bathroom to throw up again – the movement has turned out to be too much of a challenge for her wretched stomach. Poor thing, how sick she is! She is going back to bed and stays put.

12 AM. Mila is lying amidst feverish visions[B6] .

1 AM.

A key is inserted at the front door, it turns…


Mila shoots a Hi back. She’s talking fast, in order to shorten the moments of agony of speaking.

“Where have you been?” she adds. She keeps thinking[B7] that the place of her husband in tough moments like this is right beside her.

Annoyed by the sharp tone and the insistence of the question[D8] , Gesha sits on one of the chairs around the table and states:

“I was out with Geri. And I think you should know about what happened.”

Mila is overcome with the feeling[B9] that she actually doesn’t want to know what in hell’s name happened. On the contrary, she wants someone to take care of her, to spoil her a bit in order to somehow compensate for the bloody sickness.

“I slept with her,” her husband informs her[B10] . “I didn’t mean for this to happen, we sorta drifted into it…”

Mila’s throat has its own idea of how to react at the news. It says “Yuck” and for a few seconds refuses to swallow.

And in the silence comes the story of the unfaithful husband:

He went to see Geri, they had a few drinks and talked. Here they are, talking; but they’re both horny as rabbits, can’t sit still; finally the girl gets a little bit closer, he starts stroking her knee, then his hand slides up…

Mila doesn’t want to listen anymore. For God’s sake, Gergana is her best friend!!! Mila reacts sharply. For a moment the high fever and the disposition[B11] temporarily remain in the background. Damn it, how can you come home at 1 in the morning, considering I’m so ill – you didn’t even call to see how I am, knowing that I’m sick – and after that, come up with the excuse that you were actually busy screwing my best friend!!!

Her husband is sincerely outraged. He is being so honest, trusting her completely by confiding this secret of his with her… And how could she treat him like this! This is preposterous!

Mila lets herself slide back into the grip of the flu as it seems a bit more pleasant than the family atmosphere.


August 2000. Nelly is still hanging like a black storm cloud above the horizon, but that cloud has lost its power. A cloud being chased off by the winds, far away, towards unknown cursed lands, leaving above me a clear, washed by the rain, starry sky[B12] … deep and exciting…

That summer I met three Aquarian girls. Here’s what happened with each of them.

The first one, Jeni, came up in IRC accidentally. I liked her nick, we started a chat and from one word to another, we exchanged phone numbers and… well it was a very romantic telephone love. She probably didn’t see it exactly that way, but I really loved staying in my dark room in the evening and talking to her for hours. Actually I believe she too was into this a little bit. But after all she was only 15. There couldn’t be anything serious.

Here’s a story Jeni had come up, together with a friend:


Once upon the time, there was the Evil Princess, driving along through the park with her car. There she saw the Beautiful Lamia and her buddies, playing Chinese jump rope[D13] . The princess decided to spoil their game – she was pissed that they were keeping in shape. She put the pedal to the metal and – no sooner said than done[D14] .

The Beautiful Lamia ran away upset, trying to hide her tears. However, the Evil Princess had an enchanted prince, whom she ruthlessly ordered around.

The Evil Princess forced the prince capture the Beautiful Lamia. He had no other choice but to obey. He chased her, caught her by the throat, but the lamia was well-trained to withstand serious challenges[D15] .

The Evil Princess ordered the prince to turn the Beautiful Lamia into a lion. As he was holding the lamia, he started hitting her against the sidewalk with the only hope that she would admit that she is a lion.

In the meantime the mother of the Beautiful Lamia arrived and poured out her rage on the prince.

The old lamia mother beat up the poor prince, who wasn’t actually a prince, but a shepherd, forced by the Evil Princess to pretend to be a prince. Basically the shepherd didn’t have much more to live. But he had a secret potion given to him by the local witch. In fact, that witch was the wet-nurse of the Beautiful Lamia, but since she had abused LSD a bit when she was young she had gone mad and didn’t remember that fact.

So the shepherd took the potion and poured it on the head of the Evil Princess. She turned into a very, very, very evil princess.

So that Very Evil Princess got really pissed and took on the shepherd, dragons, nurse…

… made them think themselves to be cats in boots. She totally shattered their family values.

The End


The other two girls came in as a pair: Mila and Svetla.

I met Svetla F2F and on the next morning she left for L.A.

I met Mila F2F and five months after we started seeing each other.

The whole affair started one warm August evening.


Date: August 4th, 2000

Time: 8:00 PM

Venue: in front of Bilkova Apteka

15 minutes earlier and 50 meters away from Bilkova, I’m sitting in my office, tired, in a shitty mood and in a state of corrections resistance (in my military psychological profile there were many more similar horrid definitions of my character…). I.e. I don’t want to go anywhere and see anyone. However… it will be really retarded of me to stand them up – Mila and Svetla will be there any minute.

I keep sitting in front of the PC. My bitter experience so far hardly motivates me to go on a blind date. You imagine one thing, and what it turns to be in reality is[D16] … The chat was so smooth and nice on the IRC; then, all of a sudden, when both of you have taken place around the table, you feel your head is empty, and the silence is kinda awkward…

I pull myself together and stand up – I should really go now. We exchanged 3 mails and a phone call until we set this up, I’d be an asshole to miss it. Even if the Gorgons personally came to visit me at Bilka, I’d survive somehow.

I put on my jacket and get out of the office. While I’m going down the stairs, my brain is trying to form a picture of the future encounter. Here’s what it has to work with: two girls from DMI (Department of Mathematics and Informatics in SU), one is a year older than me the other one is my age. The first one corresponds to the following description: “I’m relatively tall, relatively skinny (these two are constants for now), with short blonde hair and glasses. I’m wearing a white dress (country singer style :)) – well, short, straight white dress, doubt that there will be too many people wearing one…(My brain is giving the following interpretation: “A tall Somalian girl, wrapped in a white sheet, with a David Bowie hair style and heavy horn-rimmed glasses.”)

The other chick is “…1.68 m (slightly shorter than me), skinny, with long wavy hair (most probably tied at the back). Respectively I imagine an emaciated girl with hair like black dandelion. I automatically put a pair of heavy horn-rimmed glasses on her too.

I really, really don’t feel like going to this thing.

I go out in the street and head for Bilkova. I turn round the corner and at that point I spot Kiro in front of the bar – a guy I know, who’s also a friend of Mum’s[D17] . I go to him and we say ‘Hello’. At the same time a freak of a woman passes by, dressed in some drooping rags, ugly as hell and – with the following type of personality:

“Do you have a smoke?” it asks Kiro. Kiro doesn’t have cigarettes. The creature keeps on asking everyone else around Kiro and finally I take out mine and offer her one. The thing takes the cigarette with a sulk and gets lost without even looking at me.

“What a freak!” I exclaim so that the freak can also hear me. “This one’s character is total crap. I can’t imagine that a woman would behave like that.” At that point I look around and notice two fancy slim chicks walking down the street in the company of some mousy billy goat[D18] .

“That’s real babes!” I add only to Kiro, with respect in my voice.

Weirdly enough the girl’s trajectory turns in my direction. I look at them and they look at me. I smile slightly and they smile in turn. Finally they get to me and the blonder one says:

“Hi, you are Dojh, right?”

“Yep,” I reply. “And you must be Mila and Svetla.”

At that point I realize what a negative effect on my imagination has mentioning the DMI. The two girls are thin indeed, but that makes them look good. Mila truly has short blonde hair, but in her case ‘short’ means it is trimmed in a neat line under the ears, and ‘blonde’ – that it is in darker and lighter blond locks[D19] [D20] . She truly wears glasses, but they’re really fancy and look great on her. And at the place where the white dress ends (somewhere near the heinie) starts a pair of slender, tanned thighs.

Svetla in turn is a shy/bashful creature[D21] with a really long and wavy hair, tied at the back in a way, so that a lock of hair playfully falls on her face. Her clothes are light-colored[D22] and joyful and emphasize her tall slender[D23] figure.

I won’t spend time describing the guy as his role in this story is precisely naught. At around 10 PM that same night he leaves and disappears from my life forever.

“Do you want to go to Balley Club?” Mila suggests and I readily agree as the place is nice and is just across the street.

We take a seat. We throw in a line or two while we wait for our order. The situation is tense and artificial[D24] – the conversation is definitely going nowhere. 5 or 10 minutes pass like that. Finally I get fed up and say:

“I’ve noticed that usually at such IRC meetings, as opposed to IRC, the conversation is dragging and it seems people have nothing to say to each other, while online you can’t shut them up. I think that at the moment this is the case[D25] . Unfortunately for me, this will be another failure in that area[D26] .”



The girls took it personally. They pulled up their sleeves and… well they [B27] started chatting and in about 20 minutes we were all relaxed, telling insane stories from the department[B28] (Mum and me had survived two years in DMI[B29] ). The time until 10 PM went by [B30] very pleasantly[B31] and quickly. After that we had to get up.[B32]

Silence fell around the table.

“I have a suggestion,” I started, led by a sudden impulse[B33] . “As I really don’t want to go home[B34] , let’s get a bottle of red and go drink at Baba Yaga.

I was talking and at the same time was looking at the two dressed up girls (I had a semi-formal attire too – black jeans, black jacket and a white shirt underneath – but at least I had no concern over the black jeans and was ready to sit at any type of curbs and lawns) and was thinking, how inadequate was to offer THEM to lie around[B35] the ground in their bright clothing. But, woe and behold, Mila looked at Svetla and said:

“I like the idea a lot, what do you think[B36] ?”

Svetla, who had been acting weird all evening – somewhat playfully, somewhat passively – again muttered something which could be interpreted as an agreement.[B37]


‘Well, yeah, but what are we to do with you and those clothes?’ I inquired. ‘We usually sit at the stones around the lake and it’s pretty dirty.’

‘You think that since I’m wearing a dress, I can’t sit on the ground?’ Mila replied. ‘If I was so particular about keeping my clothes, it would have been better not to wear them at all!’

Svetla expressed her agreement through silence. When I come to think about it now, she must have been in a really weird state – just before leaving. A person blocks/freezes up, trying to assimilate the fact that on the next day they will be somewhere far away, at another place, with other people, and the return ticket costs $200-$300 plus an enormous amount of effort spent in vain…

We paid the bill, went out of Balley Club and I suggested we go through the office first. We went upstairs and found Groove, Tato, He, whose Name is not now Spoken, and Corny (Зрънчо).

‘Wine?’ I threw the idea in the air. It was caught before it fell on the ground. So when we headed for Baba Yaga we were already 6 people and One, whose Name is not now Spoken (i.e. around 7 creatures) (*It’s not right to create a circle of mysticism around He, whose Name is not now Spoken, so I will venture a couple of words about him: a rarely unpleasant, slimy, retarded piece of a faggot with checkered pants and shaved ass.) Amidst the scented summer air, under the warm starry sky, on the soft grass and the company of a few wine bottles … the evening went by in a flash неусетно. I was flirting with Svetla (…Mila was married…) and felt great. We spent two more hours together, after which the chicks decided to leave (Svetla had a flight to catch the next morning). Everyone dispersed and I decided to walk the girls to Eagle’s Bridge.

We found two benches facing each other and Mila and Svetla sat on the back-rests??  облегалките. I was standing – didn’t feel like sitting down.

‘Are you in a hurry?’ I asked.

‘Not particularly’ Mila replied. ‘But we need to go some time.’

We went on chattering – and I was definitely pointing my attention towards Svetla more and more. I don’t remember how long we had stood there. Finally my secret idea that Svetla would invite me home for the night died and we separated.

Pleasantly intoxicated I went back to the office, folded myself on one of the couches and fell asleep. The Blue Bird was going to have to wait until the next morning when I was going to be sober enough to take her home.


December 2000.

What are the follow-ups to the story up to here.

A lot of innocent meetings with Mila for coffee or beer and 134 e-mails for 5 months. But Mila is married! Nooo, there’s nothing between us, we’re just friends. Well, ok, but do you like her. Well, I do! But does she like you?

‘Look, if she’s married I’m gonna have to pass.

‘Ok, Denushko, don’t get all nervous, I’m just asking’ Mimi is cooing, cause I’ve obviously bristled up.


‘Do you see her often?’

‘Well, occasionally.’

‘When did you see her last?’

Mimi, Mimi, if you weren’t like a sister to me, I would have never let you question me like that.


‘So you are seeing each other.’ – she concluded.

‘Well, yeah.’

‘What does her husband think about it?’

‘I’ve no idea what her husband thinks. I don’t know the guy and I don’t intend to meet him’

‘Alright, alright.’

Mimi asks the good questions actually, even if I play dumb. I’m not that much of an angel at all…

A bit back in time, 8th-9th of November 2000. Snapshot from a few exchanged angelic writings.

<Rogger Dojh> … Mila, you specifically are one of the people, at whom I can hardly get really mad. Since I’ve permanently assigned you to the group of my female friends (i.e. with whom there will be no hitting it off and whom I believe will never play me off), I don’t expect anything from you so there is no moment/element of disappointment…

<Мила> … About the group of female friends (he-he, that sounds a bit comical/funny as an expression :P) – I am very proud and pleased :))…

<Rogger Dojh> … P.S. Don’t make any assumptions; if you weren’t married there wouldn’t have been any group of female friends for you :))) …

<Мила> … Hey, watch it ­ I’ll pretend I didn’t read that last one :P

<Мила> :))) …

And here is how the translation of this conversation reads:

<Rogger Dojh> … Mila, I am (fucking) pissed but at the moment I’m trying to play it cool, so you will never find out about it. And since I’ve permanently assigned you to the group of my female friends, expect us to hit it off any moment …

<Мила> … About the group of female friends (he-he, that sounds a bit comical/funny as an expression :P) – I am very proud and pleased (hmm, if you’re being serious, you are a real faggot but I don’t believe you anyway. Hey, are you serious – just friends…? As far as I remember you had suggested something about getting drunk together…)

<Rogger Dojh> … P.S. Don’t make any assumptions; the fact that you are married is of no importance, and there are no female friends. I’m just talking like that so that it sounds more challenging/provocative :)))

<Мила>  … Hey, watch it ­ I’ll pretend I didn’t read that last one :P

<Мила> Or at least I am supposed to say that, and actually… WHEN ARE WE GOING TO SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN? …

This is how Mila and I wrote to each other and played it dumb. And in the meantime…

… The truth came out at one cold and snowless December night.


That wretched/cursed Veliko Turnovo – as if it was making fun of me. How did it happen that Mila just like Nelly was born in that town, even graduated from the same high school? And her husband? Following Muriel’s footsteps he was also raised in that famous town. And, to stay close to tradition, he went there occasionally leaving his wife to graze/browse freely…

The idea to watch a movie at their place in Studgard was Mila’s

That same day, a bit earlier.

‘Ooo, Dojh, what’s up; you haven’t called lately?’ Twin Ivo’s voice drooled out of the receiver.

‘Nothing much, same old shit. Why, what are you up to?’

‘My brother is trying to reproduce some bug. And I’m writing the tool for the chart.’

‘Aah’ I politely demonstrate the minimal interest that good manners oblige me to show.

‘What are you doing tonight?’ Ivo inquires.

‘I’m going out. Why, you got anything in mind?’

‘We’re going clubbing and we’ll get thrashed!’ the Twin says and laughs happily over the fact that he is going to do the same he’s been doing every other day for a year now ‘Come with us!’

‘Well, I can’t.’

‘Come on, don’t be such a party pooper, it’ll be fun!’

‘No dude, I’m going out too.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘A friend of mine has invited me to watch a movie at her place.’

‘Ahaaaaa!’ Twin Ivo’s curiosity is woken right away ‘Who are you going to be with?’

‘Well, we’ll be alone.’

‘Is it that married girl?’

‘Mila’ I clarify ‘Yep.’

‘And where will her husband be?’

‘In Turnovo.’

‘Duuude, I don’t know you if you don’t score tonight!’

‘Are you insane? With a married chick? There is nothing of the sort going on, we’ll just watch a movie and that’s it.

‘Are you insane; this is a chance you can’t miss!’

‘No, I’m not insane – this is why I don’t intend on doing anything stupid.’

‘Don’t be a jackass, duuude, to invite you alone at their place in the evening!’

‘Look, I’m telling you, I don’t intend to do anything about it.’

‘Honestly, you are a total idiot if …’

‘Ivoooo!’ I really don’t want to listen to him. My brain is looking for a way to stop his pro-sexual promotion. ‘Where will you be?’

‘The meeting is in Bilka and I don’t really know where we’ll go to next. Maybe at the Lemon.’

‘Aha. Well, k then – say hi to your brother and I gotta drop, cause I need to go out.’

‘OK, bye and have a good time’ these are his words. His intonation is actually saying something else (‘I know what you’re up to, she adds, I know you.’) And me, being the naïve soul that I am, believe what I’m saying … No sex, kein Sex, мы только друзья …


Date: December 28th 2000

Time: some time after 9:00 pm

Place: the market in Studgard

‘What are we going to get’ Mila asks while we are walking from her place to the 24 hour store to buy some things.

‘Well, I don’t know. I need to get home after that. I won’t have money for a cab if I drink.’

And God, I need a drink; I’m dying for some red wine. The circumstances are definitely not in my favor/on my side.

‘If you want to we can get wine and I’ll give you cash for a cab.’

‘Yeah right, but I’ll have to give it back later on. Either I’m going home with the car, or not going home at all.’

We’re getting closer to the store.

‘Actually, do you have room to put me up for the night?’

‘There’s only one bed upstairs. But I definitely don’t intend us to push each other around on it all night.’

I don’t intend that too. But I want a drink.

‘Look, let’s get the wine and we’ll improvise later.’

‘Come on.’


Why did I let Mila choose the wine? One of my weird features is that I always buy good wine. If I like a bottle, then it’s a guarantee.

But in this case she made the choice and when after 15 minutes we were again at her place it turned out that the wine was sour. So we went and bought another bottle.

Each of us picked one movie – Mila insisted on Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and I requested Devil’s Advocate. Three lit scented candles appeared on the table, some plates with treats materialized on the floor (we both really loved drinking sitting on the ground), we sat down around them, the wine sloshed in the glasses…

We turned on the VCR.

Hmm. We should have taken Sex, Lies and Video???. But how were we to know beforehand where it all would go to?

Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. The film was interesting but somehow too original. So original that even after the end I hadn’t figured out what it was about; neither who the good guys were, nor who the bad guys were. Anyways, that didn’t really matter anyway.

Devil’s Advocate. We were both watching it for the second time. Till the end Mila has already crawled up in the bed, dizzy and softened by the alcohol and the late time. I was still sitting on the ground – watching the movie and keeping quiet.

The last credits disappeared, something in the VCR clicked, hissed and then … silence.

‘Are you going to sit down there?’ Mila asked me.

‘Well…’ I said and ascended on the bed. I sat in the place of the pillow. The girl was lying on her back, alongside the bed, with her legs slightly bent at the knees. The pillow was actually under her head.

The pillows were the thing that broke the glass wall, which kept us on different sides and made us behave like exemplary puritans. I don’t remember who started the war but after just a little bit we were both in the middle of a fierce pillow fight.

Бой! Бой! We were laughing like freaks and hitting (млатехме) each other will full strength. But there isn’t all that much space on a single bed so there’s no way you could swing the pillow without almost falling over the other person… You’re bumping into her, but she’s gone wild and pulls back, then pushes back; oops, that one was right in the face! Great shot, now you have to pay for it!…

The truce was my initiative; obviously I had less energy to burn than Mila. After a couple of more outbursts we left the pillows alone and this time I offered my services to take their place.

‘This feels really good’ Mila said to me a couple of minutes later. ‘Here with you.’ She lifted herself up, reached out and put on some music – Alanis Morisette. Then she lay back again. I reached out my hand and found hers. She caught it.

‘I’m saying things that I shouldn’t be saying. But I feel so calm with you. And I feel good.’

I must have replied something but I don’t remember. I lay next to the girl and tucked my arm under her neck. She got moved around to get more comfortable and turned facing me. Her head was on my shoulder. I suppose I stated my mind about the romantic atmosphere of the evening – it really was great – warm, cozy, alcoholic, with the scent of the woman next to you … And Mila is no regular woman …

If she had listened to my pulse at that point she would have figured out how insanely the situation affected me – my heart was beating very, very fast.

We were talking quietly and … well… we kissed.

From there on things got out of anybody’s control. A brief thought hopped like a dear through my mind: the Twins, those sleazy, decadent bastards; how did they guess what was going to happen … Well, God bless ‘em. So much with the thoughts.


Late at night. We are lying naked and Mila startles.

‘God, what am I doing?!’ she says. She rolls to the side and stays like that with her back to me. I’m watching the ceiling in the darkness.

‘We both want what is happening.’ I answer. I am not in the mood for games. Not for that kind anyway. Mila senses it in my intonation and she herself is not a fan of theatrical performances.

‘Just wait for a minute.’ She says. ‘I’ll be fine. This concerns me, not you.’

I keep quiet. Mila is reflecting on the moment. It’s really complicated. Her husband is her first and only man. They’ve been together for 10 years, though they’ve been married for only 2. the bed beneath us is the bed they sleep together on every night. This is their place. And this beside her is me – a kind of an incubus coming from some unknown seductive circle of Hell…

Her hesitation does not last long. Mila turns to me and decisively sticks her tongue into my mouth. I don’t require any more invitations …

… It’s 6 in the morning.

‘No more sex after 7 am.’ Mila says.

‘Alright.’ I agree with a smile.

‘Absolutely none.’

‘No sex.’ I confirm. I’m hopelessly happy – I’m high on sleep hormones; the last traces of intoxication are caressing, and singing soft incantations to my conscious; my body is sending pleasure signals to my head which responds with the same … My perceptions are concentrated on this moment, the focus is perfect and all unnecessary concerns and everyday problems are deep in the mud and nobody wants to know about them.

‘I am not sorry about what happened at all. What about you?’ Mila asks me.

‘Me neither. I cannot feel sorry about a night like this.’

‘Despite all the problems it will cause me, I am not sorry.’

‘You shouldn’t give a damn. We both needed this.’


In the twilight we chat quietly and wait for the morning.

The morning welcomes us with snow and coffee at a nearby café. There are university students around, crawling out of their dormitory holes; some of them are watching us but nobody gives a shit. At 24 I feel exactly like a teenager; Mila is co-starring brilliantly: we can’t get our eyes off each other and are holding hands, despite the fact that there is a table between us. We barely speak – we are too tired. Even without communicating verbally, we’re as happy as two full kittens.

This is how December 29th, 2000 starts.


The first snow was flying chaotically around the morning Sofia air. Sitting warm in the Blue Bird, Mila and I were driving along Vitoshka and watched the grey world around us trying to get whiter. Mila was going to look for New Year’s presents (hmm, I think it was a shirt for her husband), and I – well, I was just driving her around, I had no urgent business; it was the holidays after all …

‘I was really surprised to see Death Is a Lonely Business at your place.’ I said while we were waiting for the cars that had backed up the whole street to move a few meters forward. I rarely meet somebody that has read it. Actually, the only person I know of is my dad.’

I was talking about a Ray Bradbury book that I had dug up from her library earlier that morning, while I was waiting for her to get dressed and perform all her rituals before going out.

‘I read it when I was very young and liked it very much. Now I’ll probably read it again.’

‘I had started it’ I went to first gear and moved along with the whole line ‘but I never finished it. I remember that the title and the cover had made quite an impression on me.’

‘I’ve completely forgotten what it’s about.’

‘Me too. I should have stolen it from you.’

‘After new years, when I’m back from Turnovo, I’ll give it to you.’


At that point we stopped for the n-th time. Mila looked around and said.

‘Well, I’ll get off here.’

‘Alright’ I smiled at her ‘Enjoy your holidays!’

‘You too. I hope you have a really good time.’

We gave each other a loving look, then a loving kiss and Mila left the Blue Bird with an emphasized impulsiveness. I locked the door behind her, lay back into the car seat and turned into the first block, to make a circle and head home.


Date: December 31st, 2000. – New Year’s Eve.

Time: some time around 11:59 pm.

Place: Druzhba 1, Mum and Milady’s place.

TV on, table full of food. Mum was standing at the window holding a bottle of champagne, I had lit a bangle fire ???, soc made; Milady … well, she was holding her glass, awaiting Godo (i.e. the champagne). For now this was the whole crew – Mum, Milady and me. That’s how we were going to see the new millennium in.

New Year’s Sofia was banging and booming, fireworks and пиратки were flying around like it was the last day on earth, and amidst all this noise the champagne popped very quietly.

The national anthem followed, then the President’s speech.

… Soon the alcohol had made me seriously dizzy, I couldn’t stay in one place around the table so I started walking around the room, glass in hand.

‘Dojh, why don’t you sit down?’ Milady asked, following the rule that it is better to talk with your 2 meters tall friends when they are situated in a chair.

‘I don’t want to sit.’ I replied. I was pretty nervous. Not nervous! I was really in love and all types of emotions didn’t give me a moment of peace.

‘He seems restless/unsettled’ Mum said to Milady. He did it to provoke me. And he succeeded – I needed to talk about what had happened to me, although I wasn’t feeling particularly chatty at that moment.

I was doing rounds in front of the table and half-muttered some things. I was at Mila’s. When was that? The other day. And were you alone?? Yes. Maaan, and when did you leave? In the morning. Ouch, and what did you do? We watched Devil’s Advocate, what a cool movie, and I didn’t particularly like Lock, Stock, even if it’s one of Mila’s favorite movies… Did you drink? Sure we did. What? Red wine. And there were some candles probably … Yep, there were. Romantic, Milady stated. And then what? What – nothing. Well, ok but where did you sleep there? Well, there was just one bed there, so we both slept on it. And? Nothing. Ok dude, if it was nothing you wouldn’t be so emotional about it. Did you kiss? Yep. So you did hit it off. I guess so. And what did you do all night then? Well, nothing. Did you SLEEP together??? Mum asks totally frustrated already. Hmm… yeah.

Mum and Milady looked at each other. God, until they manage to get something out of me …

‘The way you’re telling it, I can’t really figure out what actually happened.’ Mum изкоментира

‘And why didn’t you bring Mila with you?’ Milady asked me.

‘Because she’s in Turnovo with her husband.’ I answer.

‘A-ha. That explains why you haven’t invited her.’

‘No, I did, but it was pretty clear it won’t happen.’

‘Yep, it’s pretty understandable.’

I was feeling a bit more normal (having shared my troubles with the rest of the world) and time started rolling on with a faster pace. That led to the moment when Ender and a friend of his showed up, supposedly intending to represent Santa and Snow-white (at least there were no other candidates for the parts), but actually looking much more like the two drunken pigs from the fairy tale The Wolf and the Drunken Piglets (* The fairytale about the piglets can be found in the appendix – )

Ender and his buddy came over at 1:30 am, drunk as skunks and equipped with a bottle of Jim Beam which they guzzled down with no respect for the brand. Ender was so sloshed that he managed to fall off his chair. On that account we laughed at him for a long, long time.

So here’s how 2001 started – instead of with one Mila – with two drunken boars.


January 2001.

Winter finally came – snowy and festive. Sofia became pretty for a brief moment. And home it was warm and cozy. The Christmas light were twinkling on one wall, the PC was working quietly …

Date: Saturday, January 6th 2001.

Time: around 5:30 pm.

Place: an apartment in Ivan Vazov.

The phone rang. I reached and picked up the receiver without diverting my attention from the screen.

‘Rogger Dojh’s residence’ I said automatically.


‘Mila!’ my attention instantly dropped the work. ‘Hi! How are you? What’s up?’

I could pick up street sound in the receiver – Mila was calling from outside.

‘Nothing, I went out shopping after work. And how are you?’

‘Working. I just picked up this Internet cards design.’

‘Let’s meet for a bit. I’m at NDK. I want to give you something

I looked at the Christmas lights, puzzled. The twinkled back in response. This meeting proposition was pretty surprising.

‘Well…’ I started, as I had just managed to make myself sit down and work and I didn’t want to interrupt the creative process.

‘Just for a little bit; I have to get home anyway. Or I can drop by your place, if you want to.’

I felt awkward – to make the girl travel all this way, in that cold weather…

‘Where are you right now?’

‘NDK. The phone booths in the subway.’

‘I’ll be at the pylons/piers in 5 minutes.’

‘Ok, I’ll be waiting.’


I screwed the stupid Internet cards, jumped in my pants and shot off with the Blue Bird. At NDK it was full of cars, but just in front of the piers I found some improvised parking spot. I stopped sideways, put on the аварийните светлини and ran to the meeting point.

Mila was turning around restlessly under the flying/hovering snow amidst the people passing by. As soon as she saw me, she smiled uneasily.

‘Hello!’ she said, turning something in her hands at the same time. I looked closely and saw it was Death Is a Lonely Business.

‘While I was walking around I saw it at a bookstall. I was really pleased and I bought it for you!’

‘How much is it?’

‘Nonsense! It’s a gift!’

Mila was acting like a little girl that they put out on a stage for the first time. And she was looking at me really strange.

Actually, there was nothing strange in the whole thing – we were both head over heels like some six graders. But the official story, for now, was that after the other night at her place everything was back to the way it used to be. The presence of a husband made all other regulations impossible.

On the other hand, while I was still controlling myself and at least in front of her made some efforts to appear as I didn’t really care, she obviously didn’t realize how blatantly she was emitting love waves.

When her unconscious messages finally reached my incredibly slow in such cases brain, I suddenly felt really great. The feeling of a woman being so openly in love with you is incredible. And if you’re just as hot for her …

Snowflakes were falling off the grey sky, it was getting dark, and the cars had started to turn on their headlights. People were rushing through the square in front of the piers, passing around us. I has just taken the book from Mila’s hands and was turning it over. Death Is a Lonely Business. The cover had on it a dead fly, under a glass. Man, was this going to become the symbol of the romance between us. It was completely insane and totally my style; obviously it was Mila’s style too. Death Is a Lonely Business. It sounded like a mantra.

‘Thank you!’ I said. I was thanking her not just for the book, but for the fact that she had thought of me; that she paid attention to what we had talked about, and that she wanted to please me. And for the fact that she had managed to.

Mila kept smiling and being quiet. If she had started tugging on her skirt (not that she had one to tug on, but figuratively speaking) and turning her right foot around the tip of her shoe, she would have looked totally natural at that moment. She didn’t.

‘Well…’ she said.

‘We can sit somewhere if you’d like to.’ I interrupted her.

‘No, I really need to go.’

‘Alright then.’




Mila turned around and hurried for the 94 bus stop. I shrugged my shoulders mentally, gave the book I was holding another look, and went to the Blue Bird, which was waiting for me to take me home.

Death Is a Lonely Business.


Date: After a bit more than a week and a lot more dates… January 15th 2001.

Time: somewhere around 7 pm.

Venue: The South park.

Snow. Soft, fluffy snow, that has covered Sofia’s entire nastiness and has turned the cursed city into a fairy tale. The kind of fairy tale that usually includes/incorporates Snow Whites, Snow Queens and rain deer with bells. In this case however, the only ones walking in the South park were a web designer and an actuary (* Актюер ­ човек, който оценява риска; до колкото знам, работи в застрахователния бизнес. ­ Б.а.)

There really wasn’t anyone. The heavy clouds and thick snowfall were reflecting the light from the street lamps, spreading a cover of orange glow everywhere. The air was cold, but a mild kind of cold, as it usually is in such weather.

Already substantially covered with snow, we were treading through and talked about everyday stuff. Actually neither of us cared what we would talk about.

The idea for a snowball fight was Mila’s, as usual. I can’t deny that the girl was pretty playful. Unlike me – I was aware that I’d have to hop like an idiot, roll in the snow, run around and laugh aloud throwing snowballs, when my whole being insisted on a comfortable chair in a warm place with a glass of cognac, for instance.

Mila was so happy about it all that I braced myself and tried to get into the part. (Not that it was that unpleasant. It’s just that I suddenly thought of a bunch of other, much more pleasant things we could do.)

A bit later we were walking back. Freezing, covered in snow, and wet .

‘I am soaked’ I shared.

‘Me too’ Mila noted.

‘Why don’t you come over to warm up. You’ll die if you have to wait for a bus like this and in this weather.’ I lived a 3 minute walk from the park.

‘You know, that’s not such a bad idea.’

At home it was light, warm and cozy. I settled in the spinning chair in front of the computer and without negotiating pulled Mila to sit in my lap. She slightly resisted, but very slightly in fact.

‘We shouldn’t’ she said.

In response I hugged her more tightly, pulled her in and started kissing her.

‘What we’re doing is wrong (Вършим глупости!)’ the girl exclaimed when she could speak again.

‘I don’t really care’ I replied.

She thought for a bit watching my face intensely.

‘Me neither.’

This time she took the initiative.

‘I know that what we are doing is insane, but I cannot stop myself’ Mila went on after a while.

I didn’t answer – I completely agreed with her.

‘It was like that the morning at my place. I couldn’t keep myself away from you.’

‘You can stay here for the night I you want to.’ I suggested innocently.

Mila startled. Probably the idea seemed too appealing to her for her to keep her calm.

‘No, no, I should get home. The situation at home is horrible as it is. If I am late it will become totally unbearable.’

‘Why, what’s going on?’

‘Gesha is behaving really mean. He’s cold and we’re fighting all the time, when we speak at all. And by the way I think he has telepathic abilities. Last night when I came home I found Death is a Lonely Business shredded to pieces all over the room.’

There was nothing I could say. Well, there was but I preferred to stay out of it.

‘I really should go.’

‘Did you warm up?’ I asked with a small hope she’d say no.

‘Yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll get home fine.’

Mila got up and got dressed. At the door we exchanged a long kiss and she ran off to catch a cab. I got back into my lair.


Date: The day after, January 16th, 2001.

Time: Afternoon (after I got/hatched out of bed).

Venue: Outlook Express. (* Това не е фирма за куриерски услуги :P Б. а.)

Note: What happens when the Scorpio gets involved (to clarify, Scorpio is Gesha’s sign, and a TRIPLE Scorpio at that)

Email message

From:   Mila

Sent:    January 16th 2001 10:47

To:       Rogger Dojh

Subject:           No subject ­ a horrible explanation

Even after the first sentence you will get the idea of what this is about, but please read the whole thing. The only thing I don’t want to happen is that you start hating me. I already hate myself enough for the mess I cooked up. And despite the fact that I deserve to be hated by you. I feel terrible. You have to pay for every happy moment, whether it was 1hr or 1 year. (For the record – I was quite happy the last few days, from Christmas on in fact). And every lie is charged/paid for. But I had to pay up too soon. I don’t know how I imagined things could be – no way probably. I just wanted them to work themselves out with time into the right direction (exactly because I don’t know what that direction is). It came too early that I had to make decisions. That’s like comparing your warm house with a fantasy castle under the water, to which you don’t know whether you’ll be able to swim, if you’ll have enough air or if there’ll be a place for you there. Seems I don’t love you enough. Or I’m too much of a coward. An indecisive coward. So when he pressed the issue (damn him, the clever bastard; and I was so happy yesterday, that I said things that I shouldn’t have said – at least not now.) to chose – either discontinue all communication with the evil demon (i.e. you) or he’ll make me sorry I was born (или света ще ми се види черен). Guess what I chose (not just because of the threat). I shouldn’t be making excuses, but I’ll do it anyway. I.e. I will try to tell you where things stand so that you would understand. So that you wouldn’t think that I’m a mean, disoriented hypocritical liar. We negotiated all night. Of course, I can’t just tell him to go and fuck himself; that I’m gonna do whatever I want. (Besides, I didn’t just find him on the street and I didn’t get married because I had to, but because I thought – he’s the one.) And I’m that not good at negotiations either – I offered him a free pass to fuck whomever he wants as long as he doesn’t try to keep track of my emails and meetings with you. He didn’t bite. It seemed like he almost agreed, but he’s not that stupid. The offer was a direct demo on how much I care about my relationship with you.

I haven’t slept and am pretty confused… but I don’t want you to write to me anymore and I don’t want us to see each other. Not that I don’t want to, we just shouldn’t. And I don’t want to lie anymore. But when I said that you’re the coolest person I know, I wasn’t pretending, so when I say I Don’t want to, I don’t specifically mean I don’t want to. I don’t want you to write me but you can send me those cartoons/images you’re making. I don’t want us to see each other except when Gesha is in VT. (Here you SHOULD NOT agree. That wouldn’t make sense.)

Find yourself a nice smart woman that is good in bed. Forget about everything that was and that could have been. Stuff we said and stuff we could have said. Whomever you find I’ll probably think she doesn’t deserve you. On the other hand you could find someone that deserves you. You’re not that perfect :P

If you want to, if you don’t hate me, and if you think you can stand me being all whimpering and slimy, call me so I can tell you all of this f2f. But that would really be our last such meeting. I don’t want to go on lying.

The decision is the following – no mails, no dates. And it’s final.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the deal today. You have to get it. You have to convince Stefan Ivanov to accept you prices and conditions. At least one of us needs to succeed with the negotiations.

And I hope you keep some good memories, despite the whole mess that I managed to create/stir up.

End of message

To be honest, I could tell what the letter would be about from the first three words. The more I read along, the angrier I became. When I got to the passage ‘I want – I don’t want (this is the right thing)” I was furious. The romantic fantasies about the Woman that deserves me, caused a rage attack, and the mentioning of the Good memories, sent me into a state of silent resentment (злоба).

Well, as a background process somewhere in my brain something was registering very subtle signals that carried a whole different message. But there was no way I could be sure. And I really didn’t want to think in that direction.

So I just swallowed, took a deep breath, clenched my teeth (стиснах зъби) and took to the work that was waiting for me.


In the next two days I got three more mails from Mila. Attached to them was a date – a result from the sentence “If you want to, if you don’t hate me, and if you think you can stand me being all whimpering and slimy, call me so I can tell you all of this f2f.”

I wanted to.

Most likely things hadn’t really improved for her at home, after the negotiations with her husband. In the letters and when we met she did everything possible to smooth things out. As she had formulated in the last email from the series, “…We didn’t separate on very good terms yesterday. I won’t try to analyze, etc. etc., cause I’ll mess things up again :P What I didn’t tell you straight yesterday is that I want to undo my last three mails, as much as that’s possible. ( I am 100% sure it can’t, the record in the registry is there and cannot be cleaned so easily)”.

Though she didn’t realize it, Mila had no problems with the undo function. True, I was pretty pissed at her for the bullshit she wrote but on the other hand I could imagine very well what she was going through… Not to mention that after the Bitch in white similar dramatic turns to me were like saying ‘Hi’…

After a short meeting at a café near her work, in one of the following evenings, I got back to my place and the girl went home to her husband. I logged on to the dial up net and started working on the site I was developing at the time. Along with that I was chatting a little bit. Time was passing by, it was 11, then 12… then my pager started vibrating dismally on the table and peeping hysterically.

“PLEASE LOG OFF THE INTERNET. Mila”, the message read.

Wahh. I looked at my watch once again, just in case. Yes, it was indeed past midnight. Mila did not have a phone at home, so what was she doing out at this time?

I dropped and after less than a minute the phone rang.

‘Rogger Dojh here’ I spoke into the receiver.

‘Hi’ Mila said. ‘Do you want to meet and go for a drink somewhere?’

She sounded bad. She was in a lousy state – quite upset actually. Without asking about any details, I replied:

‘Yes, where are you now?’

‘In Student town. In front of the J’N’B.’

‘Where should I pick you up from?’

‘I’ll wait here.’

‘Nonsense, go somewhere warm. Just tell me where you’ll be.’

‘No, no, come here. I’ll wait for you.’

‘Ok, I’ll be there ASAP.’

The Blue Bird was surprised to see me – I didn’t go out much in the evening at the time – but finally managed to start on propane despite the freezing cold and I rushed it to Student town.

Mila was a lonely, lost figure in the midst of the big parking lot. As soon as she saw the car she started walking toward me. I stopped next to her and got off the car.

‘Hi’ I said ‘how are you?’

After that I hurried to hug her, as the question was stupid and the answer was obvious.

‘What happened?’

‘I got kicked out of the house. Doesn’t matter. Let’s go somewhere.’

I opened the door for her and she got into the Blue Bird. Then she reached out and opened the door on my side. That made me so happy – she had remembered the stuff I had told her about the Bottom Test and she always thought of that.

‘Where to?’ I asked when I got in.

‘Remember, I had told you about this tavern close by. They cook really well.’

‘Ok, let’s go.’

We drove to the tavern, I parked in the front of and we got in. The place really was pleasant. They had tried to create the authentic atmosphere of an old Bulgarian tavern and in certain respects they had succeeded. Besides that there was a trickling fountain/waterworks with rocks.

We settled in close to the water. We order some mean giant шашлъци and started talking. I picked up a totally random issue, trying to take her mind off the troubles that had come upon her. But either way we got to them at some point.

In short – after another family fight with an insignificant cause, a clear reason and big accusations; her husband had told her to get the hell out and she had left.

We ate till we were full as pigs, had a beer and got up to leave.

We were already sitting in the car; I leaned back and turned my head to her.

‘I’ll drive you home.’

‘I don’t really feel like going back. On the other hand, I have nowhere else to go.’

‘Come to my place, if you want to. I would love you to. We can get a bottle of wine for there.’

(Cause of the Blue Bird I hadn’t had a drink in the tavern. Mila didn’t drink out of empathy, and we both really wanted a drink.)

Mila went silent while she was thinking over the offer.

‘It wouldn’t be inconvenient, would it?’

‘No, it wouldn’t. Don’t worry at all.’

‘What about your folks?’

‘They’re sleeping. And my room is my own territory which no one trespasses on.’


‘To my place?’

‘To your place.’

It turned out that every one of the next 5 night Mila came back to my place.


In 3 days Mila started feeling the inconvenience of not sleeping at home – she was missing a bunch of everyday things like hair dryer, clean underwear, socks, etc. On the other hand her husband had told her not to go anywhere near the apartment when he’s at home. That was usually after work hours, when Mila is free as well. Quite frustrating.

So at one point in time the girl came up with the idea to bring over the most necessary things at home.

How it turned out that I gave her a ride, I don’t remember anymore. I guess that not enough time had passed from the Bitch in White story, so the lessons had still not settled in my brain completely. Otherwise I can’t see how I could have let myself be involved in such insanity.

I parked the Blue Bird on the side of the building where they lived. Mila, quire nervous, got off the car and headed to a street phone and I stayed in the car to wait for her.

From the street phone she called her husband’s cell phone, cause he had recently also forbidden her to go into the apartment without his permission. After the conversation Mila disappeared somewhere; she came back a bit later escorted by Gesha. Damn, I’ve always hated the encounters of the third kind.

After they both got into the building, I stayed in the car for a little longer. I couldn’t stand to sit in one place anymore, so I got out of the Blue Bird. It was really cold outside but at that time it didn’t seem to bother me. I walked around then I saw a booth where they were selling Camel.

I bought a pack. Fuck the fact that I’m trying to stop smoking. This wasn’t the right time to demonstrate strong will.

I lit one. The cigarettes where good – they weren’t original, but at least they were an imported imitation.

I puffed/pulled a few times in the open air with distinct pleasure. After that the piercing cold forced me to go back into the car. I started the engine and turned on the heating to the max. That was much better. I was smoking and watching the activity in front of Mila’s entrance. It looked like some weird silent moved.

After about ten minutes Mila walked out. That was the way things were supposed to go and I was looking forward to it. But her husband was walking after her. That was unexpected. And I didn’t like it one bit.

Mila came up to the car, opened the door and threw the bag on the back seat. Gesha stood in front of the car and stared at me. He was smoking too. We were all pretty aggravated/nervous/frustrated.

As we were staring at each other, I decided that the situation was pretty funny. What was he frowning for, when his wife was getting into my car so I can drive her to my place? As much as I tried to suppress the smile creeping to my lips, I couldn’t.

Gesha spread his arms questioningly – what are you laughing for?

I shrugged – I don’t know; you tell me – why are you so ridiculous?

After that silent conversation, Mila had already settled in, so I reared and got out of the parking. I headed home and left the zone for encounters of the third kind far behind me.

‘That was pretty lame.’ I said while we were driving through the streets of Student town.

‘I know’ Mila replied. ‘I’m sorry. He wasn’t supposed to come down with me but there was no way to stop him.’

‘Anyways. I would ask you for such things not to happen anymore.’

‘They won’t. I promise.’

The kid was genuinely sad about what had happened. Me too. I sighed in my head, hummed a tune silently, settled more comfortably in the seat and directed my entire attention to the road. Sometimes it is so pleasant to drive through the overcrowded Sofia… compared to/in the background of all other problems…


Mila felt good at my place. Or at least as good as the awfully tense situation allowed her to – separated from her husband, in a strange apartment… As I was completely aware of what was happening to us, I had decided that if she left Gesha for good, no matter how our relationship would develop, I wouldn’t dump her under any circumstances. We even started making plans to get a place together somewhere close.

And I really wanted this to happen – that she would get divorced that is – and my behavior was based on some distinctly selfish reasons.

Her husband was a real snake – harassing her psychologically and didn’t really feel bad about demonstrating physical supremacy (over her). He was treating her like a serf to a certain extent – she was cooking for him, washing his clothes, cleaning his house, the primary income came from her… The car he was driving was also maintained with her money… To an extent all of that calmed my moral guilt for being involved in breaking up such a family relationship.

Above all, I was head over heels in love and my final goal was to get/nail Mila permanently. I was acting on it will all methods known to me.

For the five days that Mila lived at home we were pretty much living as a married couple. We went everywhere together; at night we went out, then got home to sleep, and on the next morning each one got to their own responsibilities. I drove her to work and picked her up from there.

One of the days we went to visit Mum and Milady. The effect wasn’t the expected one. I had thought that Mila will fit right into our group, but she didn’t get her eyes off of me the whole time and hardly said anything. This made it hard for her to fit anywhere. Finally when at the end of the evening there was a need for some math problems to be solved, she helped Mum out as she was most qualified of all the people in the room.

The fifth day went away. I still didn’t know that it would be our last night together. I presume that Mila didn’t know that either. Her birthday was on the next day and our main task was to figure out how we would celebrate it. We had dinner at home, watched some TV and went to bed. I set my pager to wake me up at 7 am and we went to sleep.


Date: Mila’s birthday, January 23rd, 2001.

Time: 7am

Venue: an apartment in Ivan Vazov

The pager beeped antagonizingly. I got out of my restless sleep and hurried to turn of the squeaking thing before it woke up Mila. She moved around a bit next to me but went on sleeping. I got out of bed carefully, got out of bed and went looking for my dad in the next room.

He was also up; for work.

‘Morning’ I said.

‘Good morning early bird’ he replied. Indeed I had got up around 8 hours earlier than the usual.

‘Can I borrow 10 leva?’ I went straight to the point. That’s one of the advantages when I communicate with my father – I don’t need to make diplomatic tricks. He himself is brutally blunt, but that only allows me to act the same way without worrying about the consequences.

’10 leva?’ he asked with a note of suspicion. Usually, every additional financing on top of the contracted monthly allowance, was unwanted/not recommended. And besides, I was working.

‘It’s Mila’s birthday. I want to buy something more special for breakfast.’

‘Get me my wallet.’

Besides the juice, nuts and croissants, I found some really gorgeous scented candles. They were 6 leva a pop but as soon as I saw them I knew I had to buy one. I got a yellow one – it smelled great (to this day it smells like sex and romantic nights to me, but that’s understandable…)

I put the breakfast in front of the PC screen (which, for functional reasons was put right next to my bed), I covered it so that it doesn’t get dust onto it and lit the candle. I also turned on the blinking Christmas lights on the wall.

I woke the girl up, when the time came for her to get to work. Mila opened her eyes with difficulty and looked around disoriented.

‘Happy birthday!’ I said and I kissed her. She smiled, but I had the sensation that more than half of her conscious was somewhere else at the moment. She was really sleepy.

‘Thanks’ she said with a faint voice.

‘That’s for you’ I pointed at the candle and breakfast. She didn’t pay attention; seems that she didn’t realize there was food under the cover. That’s why when she started getting dressed a bit later and I offered her to have breakfast together before she left, she was really surprised.

We were on the way to her work and we were talking, settled in the Blue Bird. The girl mentioned her husband and I asked her to keep him out of the conversation – at least not now. I was really tired, actually the exact phrase is – I was dying for sleep and felt cranky… Well, we were both extremely inadequate.

I dropped her in front of her office and got home. I threw myself on my sweet родното bed among the scent of the candle and Mila’s perfume on the sheets and fell asleep blissfully.

Around 11 the phone rang.

I picked it up instantaneously, before I had even managed to open my eyes.

‘Hi’ Mila said.

I woke/sobered up right away. Her tone sounded really weird.

‘Hey. What’s up/wrong?’

‘Can you come by the office?’

‘Sure. I’m coming.’

I jumped in my pants and together with the Blue Bird we headed through town, full throttle.

I climbed the stairs to the office, rang the bell just in case and went in. Mila met me in the hallway.

‘Come outside’ she said and we went out to the staircase.

‘Did you see the flowers?’

‘What flowers?’

She used her hands to show me the size of the bouquet– very big.

‘On my desk, right next to the computer.’


‘Gesha had sent it to me this morning. Look’ – and she shoved a picture in my hands.

The picture was cut out; it was of Mila and Gesha on their wedding day.

‘Turn it around.’

There was a message on the back. I don’t remember the whole thing, but the overall content was: Although you are such a wild bitch, I’m ready to take you back and actually today is your last chance; if you don’t come home tonight – it’s over. The word bitch was really there. It had made a strong impression on me. I was even more surprised at the words Mila used to answer my questioning look:

‘I decided to go home tonight.’

I was quiet for a while looking at the soapy artifact in my hands. After that I handed it back to her.

‘Fine. It’s up to you’ I said.

Mila didn’t expect that.

‘Try to understand…’ she started as if I had resisted in some way. But I hadn’t. I felt really lousy, but it was all the same. Let her deal with this – I draw the line here.

‘It’s ok. I’m gonna run.’

‘I’ll see you to your car.’


I sat inside, Mila – as well. We stood silent for a while.

‘I guess there is nothing more to say.’

‘Well, no. There isn’t’

‘Then it’s probably best if I go back to work.’


After she had gone I stayed there at least 10 more minutes. I wanted her to come back. But she didn’t. Finally I started the engine and got myself to my good old room, which had no intention to decide and go back to somebody else. It was mine, the damn thing гадината. Fuck. Everything I had wished and planned for in the last few days went straight into the bucket of shit and sank, bubbling.

That night I didn’t go anywhere – I stayed at home and at 8 pm I was already in bed, covered under the sheets, isolated from the whole disgusting world. Everything and everyone made me want to barf and I didn’t want to have anything to do with them.

At some point I got up to browse around my PC – I couldn’t fall asleep. Even in front of the PC I didn’t do anything, I just sat there. I was staring stupidly at the screen. That was my activity/that’s what I was doing.

The door opened.

My dad came in.

‘We need to talk.’

‘Some other time’ I said.

‘No, it won’t be some other time. Three things. First you need to decide what you are going to do about school. You had told me you intended to go to the classes, but you’ve let that go completely…’

‘Please, leave me alone’ I interrupted. I didn’t give a damn about what he was saying. Fuck school. Fuck everything else too.

‘I will not leave you alone!’ my father raised his voice. I must admit he had an extraordinary gift – to pick the worst moments ever to lecture me. There was no one better than him in that respect. The most perfect tool for measuring peak points from the shitospectrum was in his head. Numero fucking uno. ‘You’re really good in making promises, but you’re even better in not keeping them.’

‘Dad’ I also raised the volume ‘Stop it!’

‘Don’t tell me to stop, cause…’


‘NO, I CAN’T GET OUT CAUSE YOU’VE LET YOURSELF GO AND I’M GIVING MY MONEY SO THAT YOU CAN STUDY AND…’ here my dad went on with stuff I didn’t listen to. I went into ‘cat’ mode – just waiting without reacting. Brrrmmmmm, brrrrmmmm…

Incredibly frustrated, my father finally went out of the room. He had finished his speech pretty hurtfully. I put/relaxed my head back. Damn it. Who cares…

I cared. Actually I heard what he had said. I was very offended. So offended, that if there was somewhere I could go I would have moved. There wasn’t. I stayed there. But I refused to accept money and food from my parents. I went to bed hungry. I didn’t have an appetite anyway.

The next day was unpleasant. My work engagements and meetings with clients took my mind off things temporarily but I hadn’t slept well, and I hadn’t had much of a breakfast (some crappy sandwich from a questionable food stand) …

And all of that in the background of the missing Mila.

We still exchanged a couple of emails. For instance:


From:   Rogger Dojh

To:       Mila

Искам да заплача от безсилна ярост

и от самота

Искам да заплача от любов

и съм полудял

но съм във желанието си окован

безмълвно устни съм прехапал

и мълча

С копнеж изпълнен е деня

Адска и отчаяна ­ нощта

И всичко е напразно

не остана в мен душа

всичко беше само гавра

ти не беше тя.


Just don’t send me a blubbersome email in reply.

There is nothing more you can say to me.

And there are some of your clothes and underwear around the place. I’d rather you pick ‘em up yourself.


From:   Mila

To:       Rogger Dojh

‘На любов като на война’. You fight for whatever you want to be yours. You had a choice – you had to say ‘stop’, ‘stay’, ‘I want’. I couldn’t give you a hint. Why did you leave the choice to me? Next time fight, my friend – if you think the other person is worth it. Cause it’s going to be about your life too. And it shouldn’t be decided by somebody else. I had told you that love is a deal, and you didn’t believe me… Perhaps you still don’t believe.

And btw, I really am not ‘Her’ – for no one. I’m nobody’s woman anymore…

When will it be a good time for me to come pick up my things? Write or call, you know where I am. It depends on you.

There really isn’t anything else I can say.


From:   Rogger Dojh

To:       Mila

When was it that I wanted you to be MINE? I wanted us to be together, cause we both want it. I don’t wish for my life to become a struggle to keep you with me. I did enough to change my personality for you anyway. (*Well, I mean that for the first time in my life I had made compromises… and that’s a lot.) If even after this you are willing to back off – the choice is yours. And think about it. If love is a deal, a contract, then besides rights you acquire responsibilities. One of those responsibilities is not to subject the other to the type of torture you so generously applied on me yesterday. Also to be on their side. Otherwise you break the deal. There is no struggle in deals, except for in the court room. Think about it a little.

I have no idea what happened yesterday but stay if you want to. In spite of all principles I am willing to accept you even now. But don’t expect to be tied up with my choice. In this case the choice should be yours.


Maybe all these explanations sound weird, considering the past events. But our relationship was pretty serious. Some of the events changed the factual state of things, but nothing had influenced the thing that connected us/brought us together the most – our friendship. The truth was that we got along so well. It was impossible to just suddenly stop communicating.

Our correspondence went on in the same fashion. There were a few playful tones in some of them – can’t do without those… especially when airheads like us were involved…


The month was almost ending. Naturally, things didn’t stop there, though we saw each other a lot more rarely. Though we wrote a lot. So much that you could get a headache. For example on January 29th 17 letters passed back and forth. Things like that.

Here’s a letter that has nothing to do with the events, but it’s fun.

From:   Мила

To:       Rogger Dojh

Subject:           На урок по биология

Малко биологични факти:

Оргазмът при прасетата трае 30 min (в следващия си живот искам да съм прасе :P)

Хората и делфините са единствените видове, които правят секс за удоволствие (хмм, с развитието на генното инженерство, дано да включат и прасетата :P)

Средностатистически хората се страхуват от паяци и хлебарки повече, отколкото от смъртта.

Като заговорихме за хлебарки ­ една хлебарка може да живее 9 дни без глава, преди да умре (след това да не ми излезе някой да спори, как не са съвършеното в еволюционно отношение животно).

Полярните мечки са леваци (интересно, кой го е доказал и на кого му влиза в работата).

Някои лъвове правят секс по над 50 пъти дневно (като се има пред вид, че по книжките пише, че обикновено спят по 20h на денонощие ­ егати и бързаците ­ 10x).

Мъжката богомолка не може да прави секс, докато има глава. Затова женските започват секса, откъсвайки главата на партньора (много мило, женските хора го правят всеки ден по малко ­ ти какво предпочиташ?).

Слоновете са единствените животни, които не могат да скачат (тук не броим комшийката от долния етаж ­ леля Дочка, която също не може).

Когато някой те подразни, за да се намръщиш, задействаш 42 мускула. За да покажеш среден пръст ­ само 4.

P. S. Коментарите в скобите са мои ­ за автентичността на останалото не отговарям ­ не съм го измислила аз :P


The fight with my father had some totally unexpected consequences: I learned to cook to prevent myself from starving to death.


February 2001.

At home things didn’t go very well for Mila, though they had improved a bit. A bit. At one of our meetings, to which Mila came in a lousy mood, I learned the following story.

She and Gesha are sitting at home again. And they’re discussing their life together. Gesha is getting into the role of a big shot – he’s explaining to Mila what she really represents/is. She is: cheap make up/cosmetics. Just a very regular girl. Hm, why is he with her then? Oh, better a bird in the hand, than two in the bush. He doesn’t want to go after high-maintenance chicks … it’s too complicated.

I’m sitting and listening, and wondering whether Mila has filed for divorce already. But no. She’s just slightly depressed. Damn (ужас). Sometimes I just can understand this girl. She’s taking shit/things that I think is/are unbearable…

That’s probably the reason (“that” being the fact her family problems had not magically disappeared; they had lingered, like an obnoxious цирей that doesn’t disappear after you break the mirror…) out meetings became more frequent again. Mila went to work in a crappy mood, we met some time during the day and her mood got better. It was natural that she liked us to see each other.

I was nagging on her for a longer date. I wanted us to be able to release all the unsaid thoughts (we had no idea what these thoughts were, we just knew they were hiding somewhere in our brains), to relax and communicate like two human beings човешки. Naturally there was no way this could happen while Gesha was in Sofia. But when he is in Turnovo… here’s what arrived in my mail box one day:

From:   Mila

Sent:    February 10, 2001 12:18

To:       Rogger Dojh

First of all – is it important for us to see each other? I’ll call you when I find out how things are with me. Wait for a call till 3 pm at the latest.

I have the following offer:

Offer: Early Sunday morning (10 – 10:30 am) you come home for pancakes. After that, if the weather is the same as today, we go for a Vitosha. Well, I suggest we don’t go for/emphasize on the hiking too much; we can bask (размажем) in the sun like lazy lizards on the first meadow we see instead. From then on: free activities/TBD. Necessary resources: a Swiss army knife, or a compact shotgun (двуцевка), matches or two sharp stones, a good book/s (porn pics are forbidden), a blanked, good spirits (from 11 to 45̊ , participant’s choice), a walkman or a lyrics book, knitting or other kind of entertainment.

Attire: smart casual

Attendance: almost mandatory

Sorry about taking my bad mood out on you yesterday. I will be a lot more careful next time the devils in my head decide to have their sacrifice ritual dances.


Date: Sunday, February 11, 2001

Time: some time after 11:30 am

Venue: the parking lot in front of J’N’B in Student town.

The weather is cold. A little bit of sunshine is peeking through the clouds, but more out of curiosity rather than to do something useful. There’s wind. Up to a few minutes before there was a drizzle. While I am driving into the parking lot I’m thinking that Vitosha is off the plan for the day. But I have a much better plan anyway. It’s called plan “Simeonovo”.

Mila is already in the parking lot.

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to make you pancakes?’

‘Yeah, I have no business at your place.’ I’m being firm about that.

‘I know a sweetshop nearby, where they make really delicious pancakes.’

‘Ok. By the way, I don’t think we’ll be going up Vitosha today.’

‘Me neither. Do you have any other suggestions?’

We’re walking towards the sweetshop.

‘Actually I do. What about going to O-Gosh’s house in Simeonovo? I’ve talked to him, I know he won’t mind.’

‘Will he be there?’

‘No. He has stuff to do in town during the day. There’s nobody there. Besides Zhorko, who’s really cool.’

‘Who’s Zhorko?’

‘O-Gosh’s cat.’

‘Great. Well, I’m up for that.’


We went into the sweetshop. I ate/consummated my pancake in complete silence. After that we went to buy some stuff/shopping.

This time I firmly stated that I’ll be choosing the wine. While I was looking over/through the bottles I stopped on/at a Cabernet Souvignon from the Rosenovo region. As it turned out later on, this was one of the best red wines I had ever tasted.

While we were still hanging around in Sofia the weather went bad (скапа). On the way to Simeonovo there was a slight drizzle and up in the mountain it was dark and wet.  We went into the house and turn the heater on. Mila got comfortable in an armchair and I sat on the bed. I popped a bottle of wine, lit the candle that was left from the birthday and turned on some music. It was/turned out pretty cozy.

About the time the first bottle was finished Mila took off her shoes and tucked her feet under the cover of the bed, which was exactly opposite her. This brought certain thoughts into my head.

A few years before me and Mum worked in Ilienci as software developers (what we did as devs in a wholesale market is a long story…). Our boss there was a weird guy; he stuttered but according to his own words, he had a very rich sexual background. He told quite a few stories about whores, fashion models and folk-singers and they all sounded very plausible. One time he had mentioned something about a rule, that will let you know if a woman wants to do you. Up to this moment, unlike the Bottom Test, this rule has proven correct in 100% of the cases. It sums up in the following: You take a girl home/to your office/villa (it’s important to be your own territory) – if she voluntarily takes off her shoes, that means she’s wet and there’s no point in asking – you take her and you start.

I stalled a bit, talked a bit more BS and finally decided to give it a go.

‘Come here’ I told Mila. These are magic words. Evidently said to a woman they have a magical effect. They are always followed by the question ‘Why’ to which you respond with ‘Because/Cuz’. Then you start kissing. Stuff like that.

Mila didn’t hesitate long and tucked under the covers with me. It was warmer there and there was a guy (from her point of view that was a plus; it wouldn’t have been from mine).

We started enjoying each other and it was just getting interesting when Mila pulled out a piece of paper from somewhere and said:

‘I wrote you a letter.’

“Oh, no you didn’t” my brain replied. “No letters. Why letters. Letters are forbidden today, and in the next 250 years. Letters kaput! Burn all the letters; they are bad for the social culture and the normal sexual relations between people!”

Bu the letter was there, right under my nose, printed out and starting with the sentence: ‘I thought a lot and decided to stay with Gesha.”

“Damn it/sweet mother of mercy(???)” my brain continued “Not again!” it exclaimed a moment later when I read on “I got stuck in a story foaming with laundry detergents again”.

“Laundromats” my brain added, clinging to the thought of washing clothes like a lifeguard to a drowning man with a straw. And somewhere in an isolated section of my brain the information from the letter kept importing.

I read it somehow. Mila was observing me focused. I left the letter aside and lay back again. I crossed my arms under my head. I looked around the ceiling. It was pleasantly empty.

‘So?’ Mila inquired.

‘What So?’ I inquired in turn.

‘Aren’t you going to react?!?!’ Mila was like a little girl in front of an aquarium; she was tapping the glass and was really annoyed that the fish kept on hanging calmly and stupidly looked at her.

‘Oh…’ unuttered bad phrases haunted the dots. I shut up again.

‘Say something!’

‘Something?’ I asked timidly (плахо). Hm, I guess she didn’t have that in mind.

Mila went furious/mad. I didn’t really care. “I decided to stay with Gesha…” Hey, are these panties that are rubbing against my thigh mine? Oh, but it’s yooouuu Mila, wearing only your panties; so that’s how you make ground-braking decisions – only in your underwear…Gesha? The sparrow hunter? Stay wherever you want, just don’t bother me with this bullshit. Ugh.

From that moment on I only waited to get sober so that we can get back with the Blur Bird. We almost didn’t speak – i.e. Mila was explaining some stuff but I didn’t really try to listen. She was just repeating herself anyway. It was way more pleasant when I was lying in the warm bed, the candle flickering on the table, Mila next to me… Oh no, she’s affected/upset. Doesn’t matter, she’s cute like that too. As long as she doesn’t get physical on me. Heeeyyy! Stop it, what did I do to you? Reaction? You want a reaction? YOU WILL GET IT:

‘What the hell do you expect from me? To jump and declare: NO, YOU WILL BE WITH ME!? To challenge Gesha to a duel? To kidnap you? It’s your own business where and with whom you will be! That decision is up to you! I make my own choices but I won’t solve your personal problems! Just decide who it will be already and don’t waste my time with this crap anymore!!!’

Mila looked at me slightly scared. I gave her some good reaction. Emotional, dramatic. Pleased with myself I leaned back again.

After that outburst we calmed down a bit. We went to more neutral subjects. The afternoon was changing into evening, which came early, as it’s supposed to in February…

Around 8 PM I was sober enough to be able to drive.

‘I want us to talk about something before I go home. But I want to have that conversation over a beer’ the offer came from Mila.

‘Ok, but you’ll have to wait till I’m done with a task for tomorrow. If I have a beer before that I’ll feel so sleepy that I won’t be able to do anything after that.


At home it was light, warm and welcoming, as usual. The TV was on, and so was the PC. We ate something quick for dinner and I splashed myself in front of the PC. Mila was getting bored.

In about an hour I was still working.

‘Will you finish soon?’ she crept next to me on the bed with a beer in hand (to work on the PC one had to sit on the bed).

‘Weeeell’ I dragged not too assuredly. I didn’t know either.

‘Come on, leave that stuff. It’s getting late; I want to get home and take a shower before I go to bed.’


In a few minutes Mila’s words managed to seep through the web-shit that was clogging my brain.

‘Ah, right. Ok. Where’s me beer?’

‘Here it is.’

I pulled away from the PC and sat in one side of the bed with my legs crossed underneath me. Mila got accommodated opposite me.

‘Let’s hear it.’

‘You know how much I love you. But I can’t leave Gesha. I …’

‘Oh, please. Don’t start again!’

Mila went silent for a moment.

‘Damn it! You didn’t play your cards well at all!’ she decided to skip the intro.

‘What cards?’ I asked, sincerely lost about what she was trying to say.

‘You had a chance to convince me, to win me over…’

I figured out what cards she was talking about. That made me slightly angry.

‘I wasn’t playing any cards today! You stated in a straight voice what you had decided and I agreed. What did you expect me to do?’

‘I wanted you to react in some way. I wanted you to do something so that … It doesn’t matter.”

So that I’d win her back? How did she not get it? The fact that she sees herself as a trophy to be won automatically excludes her from my aspirations. But on the other hand, it might have been just me. It was like all women sooner or later went insane in that tragic way in my presence. Even the cool ones, like Mila, started behaving bitchy. Whyyyy, why, my dear Dojh?.

I tried explaining that to her. It was difficult. I was having problems formulating my blurry thoughts in a sentence.

We were silent for a little while.

‘How about a casual out-of-marriage relationship?’ Mila suddenly offered. I jumped.

‘That’s absurd, how could you think of it?!?’ I exclaimed, horrified. My brain had managed to assemble scenes/snapshots from that affair. All of them comical, but why is everybody in them crying?

‘I’m offering this because I love you too much! I love you so much that I want to swallow you and carry you with me everywhere!’

If you have ever been waken up with a bucket of cold water then you might, to a certain extent, imagine the effect these words had on me.

I felt like I was passing a stone. Nelly! Word by word, that was exactly what Nelly had said!!! Help! What the hell is going on here!?!

I pulled back from the girl like I was burned. She looked at me, desperately trying to understand why I had reacted like that. I guess the panic and horror were written on my face, cuz Mila startled.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked?

‘You talk exactly like Nelly’ I explained with a grave voice.

‘I’m sorry!’ short pause. ‘But I love you! It’s just that I need time to make a decision that would work for you!’

Again! It happened again! As if the little barking Nelly had possessed Mila’s body!

Enough, I said. Over. Mila no more. Stop the war in Iraq, etc.

‘Look’ I took a deep breath ‘No more stories like that. I took a firm and clear decision and it’s – everyone goes their own way. We’ll stay friends – that’s a separate issue. But you go back to your husband. I have no more claims on you.

What a great non-love explanation. But with the Bitch in White I had lived through such an emotional shock that my reaction was coming directly from my spinal cord. It wasn’t subject to any discussion or appeal.

Mila turned on the tears.

My brained screamed in the darkness of my skull/cranal box, gripped by a claustrophobic seizure. It wanted to get out, the poor thing.

‘I’m gonna go’ the girl said.

‘It’s better you stay here to sleep and sober up/come to.’ I told her. In the last hour she had fallen into an inadequate state and needed somebody to take care of her. She could realize at least that; or she was just refusing to take any independent decisions, cuz she listened to me. She took her clothes of and crawled under the covers.

I felt incredibly good – the whole package of open questions related to a future where Mila existed came off my shoulders. My brain was signing with happiness; the better part of its CPU load had disappeared, releasing resources for the everyday tasks to start running smoothly with their usual speed. I got comfortable in front of the PC and went on with my work on the site.


That’s how me and Mila broke up. 27 days + one bonus day in the end.

Plus a notable discussion.

Date: Some time early February 2001

Time: Around noon

Venue: In a random coffee place

‘It could be weird for you’ Mila explained over her soda glass ‘but Gesha has the perfect genetic material. If I have kids, they have to be from him. What I do after that doesn’t matter.

‘Are you getting sick or something?’ I asked, sincerely worried (you talk shit like that only with temperature above 39.7 Celsius.)

‘No, I know that you’re looking at things differently…’

‘Of course I do! Your theory is borderline fascist!’

‘Bullshit! And bottom line is, Gesha is my husband, so it’s normal that I want my kids to be from him.’

‘Let’s change the subject cause I’m getting a headache… Perfect genetic material… God almighty…


(In the mail below in [] is the text from Mila’s letter to which I am replying; everything else is mine)

From:   Rogger Dojh

To:       Mila

Subject:           Re:

[ Last night was a very dark one. To tell you the truth, I envy you a little bit and I am a little proud of you for not taking advantage of me when I wanted you to so much. :))) That was the Right thing to do.]


[It would now sound rude and disrespectful to explain to you how dear you are to me and how much I love you. I love you so much that I want you to be happy. But not as much as for me to be the source of that happiness.]

Ok, I get it.

[At least not in the way that you imagine – me leaving Gesha and coming to.]

Relax, those visions are in the past.

[At least not now. I don’t know if it’s meant for us to ever be together. What I know is that it will show in the next 5-6 months at the latest. I’m not telling you to wait till then.]

Yeah, that would have been something. (too vague???)

[But I don’t want you pressuring me like you did yesterday – all or nothing.]

After you get some sleep read your email and we’ll see if you won’t get a headache :P Who did I pressure, kiddo? Who dumped two pages of wisdom on me? And after that you go and protest that there’s no reaction. And when there was one, you protested that you didn’t like it. Or maybe it was me explaining to you how I’m gonna live with Gesha but actually, I really want to eat you? You go and stand in front of a cop with a gun in your hand, and we’ll see if they shoot at you. :P

[But if you really insist on this, so be it. (* She means discontinuing any type of ­ Б.а.) If that will make you feel better, and helps you sleep and eat. This is how it’s going to be. Don’t delete the mails if you don’t want to; but if you are planning on that, so will I. But if you reconsider, the one thing I can promise you is that we won’t see each other too often.]

Hang on a minute, I’m just withdrawing (this time emotionally as well) all claims on you. That means that I don’t intend on seeing you often or rarely, just whenever. I don’t care about any plans. I have my own way that I’m following and you have yours and if it happens that our ways cross – well, ok; otherwise – it’s still ok.

[But when we see each other we won’t have to prove anything to each other or be scared.]

The thing with the proving part is your idea. The way I see it, I’m in the game of proving stuff to you, but that’s just because otherwise it will be stupid to just stay quiet and nod understandingly.

[And it will be much more relaxed and I guess very pleasant. Because we will know why we’re doing it and there won’t be a struggle in our relationship.]

What the hell are you talking about, dear girl?

[Give them hell today – those at work and everybody that crosses your way. Have a good one. :)))))]

Oh, 10x. Now I have to explain to Stefan Ivanov why I won’t be going to see him and I won’t send him the contracts – i.e. because I’m so sleepy I can hardly keep my eyes open. Let’s see if I can pull that off. :)

[Btw I want a reply to this mail at least. And the thing that Milady told you about women chasing the guy when he stops paying attention to them is true only for some women in some situations. I think this isn’t the case.]

Now don’t you start thinking this is the reason why I’m putting an end to this. It’s not a pose it’s really serious. It’s not exactly an end but after yesterday I don’t really care. Right now I’m feeling free (i.e. not committed to you in any way). That’s about it.

[One more thing. We’re both not really good at explaining, especially when we are together.]

Because talking sux as I have pointed out a number of times; but nobody listens.

[I want to ask you to be more open with me. Isn’t the better way of communication being completely honest with each other? (hehe, I’m just excusing about hurting you so often.) Anyway, think about that.]

Thinking also sux :P

[:)))Kisses :P:P]

God bless you. And don’t get wrapped up about it. The things between us remain in the past but that doesn’t make them bad. Simeonovo yesterday was great; there was a lot of emotions, serious talk, good wine, love fireworks, sex, everything. It wasn’t so bad, And we were together, which makes it even better. :)


Rogger Dojh


From:   Mila

To:       Rogger Dojh

Subject:           The last question

Btw, one last questions – don’t answer if you don’t feel like it.

Last night, was it just sex?


From:   Rogger Dojh

To:       Mila

Subject:           Re: the last question

What do you think? Sometimes I feel like I’m not talking to you but to the wall :P No, it was love, and it was completely shared at that…


And so:

After the whole story Mila went back to her husband who had obviously lost his firm confidence of a feudal master, got himself together and started behaving like a good husband is supposed to.

At the moment Mila is on a maternity leave. The kid is a boy and is starting to ужасно resemble his father. Well yeah, everyone is worried – it doesn’t miss a chance to pinch Mila’s girlfriends’ butts from the stroller.

But what can you do about it – genetic material!




The winter came and the three piglets decided to build a house to keep their flab warm. They sat and wondered for a while and eventually decided to build a house of fall leaves. Or better to say an igloo of fall leaves. Or to say it straight – a huge heap of fall leaves they started to grub into like real swine.

The wolf, whose balls had already shrunk to hazelnuts of bitter cold, was really pissed off at the piglets for having such a nice house, so he went for a visit. Here he is, sitting in front of the house and talking:

“Yo, swine, let me in to get warm. It’s ass-freezing here outside.”

He wanted to sound scary, but his chattering teeth ruined the impression.

The piglets, cozily nestled together under the fall quilt, were debating over the wolf’s request:

“Let this gay fix himself up in here, and we are as good as eaten.”

“No way we’re letting him in!”

The third piglet directly shouted out:

“Yo, gay, swell gay, go your way with no delay!”

Ооо, как се ядосал Вълкът, зачудил се що да стори и му хрумнала блестяща идея. Надул с все сила дробовете си и като духнал по къщата на прасенцата и тя се разлетяла на сички страни, а прасенцата останали да лежат в снега по корем, захлупили с предните си копитца очи.

Вълкът, отвратен и от прасенцата, и от себе си, и от целия живот, се разкарал.

Седнали прасенцата пак да обсъждат, де да зимуват, но било много студено, та си капнали по малко ракия да се сгреят.

­ Е па я викам по-здрава къща да си построим ­ думало едното прасе.

­ Е па от що ке я правим?

­ От снег ­ рекло третото прасе, дето най-много било пило и вече мозъкът му в извънземен режим заработил.

Е те туй било то едно истинско иглу.

Седи Вълкът на един хълм и вие по луната, дето се не види през облаците, и гледа, на другия край на гората дим се вие. “Скапаните прасета пак къща са построили, рекъл си той, и огън са запалили, бе не ме интересува, ще ходя там, че тука топките ми на грахчета ке станат”.

Отишъл Вълчо до иглуто и потропал на вратата.

­ Ей, свини, я да ме пуснете и я да се постоплим малко, че тука вънка си е ебало мамата ­ рекъл той.

­ Я па тоя! ­ дочул се отвътре вик. ­ Къф си ти бе?

­ Бегай се, дорде не сме ти подпалили опашката! ­ викнало второто прасе.

­ Ойлеле, Вълкът цял гей-парад е спретнал! ­ изпискало третото прасе, като надзърнало през прозорчето. Вълчо се огледал озадачено, но не видял никой друг. ­ Ти за десет гея се броиш бе, тъпоумнико! ­ изкискало се прасето на прозореца.

Вълчо направо побеснял, поел ужасно дълбоко въздух и като духнал, нищо не направил. Гадното иглу не помръднало ни на йота (* Йота (yotta) – буква от гръцката азбука, изпълзва се като SI префикс в системата от мерни единици SI и обозначава 10 на 24-та степен или 1 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 (един квадрилион). До настоящият момент йота е най-големият потвърден официално SI префикс. Ехх, кога ли ще си купуваме хардове, на които пише 6YB … Б.а. ). Спрял се, та се замислил що да стори. “Ке се изпикаем на иглуто им и то ке се разтопи!”, светнали му очичките и речено ­ сторено.

Мокри и кисели като лимони прасенцата се замъкнали надалеч от препиканото място, а Вълкът се върнал на хълма си, защото нямало вече къща в гората и нямало що да дири из пущинака.

Ууу, този път прасенцата подхванали сериозно бутилката, но не толкоз заради студа, колкото от срам и унижение. Седнали до горския поток, който още не бил замръзнал, и подели такава беседа:

­ Тоа ке му правим главата да роди лепенки ­ разправяло завалено едното прасенце.

­ Ке му избием зъбките, ей! ­ дразнело се другото.

­ Ке му правим лицето трудно за рисуване! ­ канело се третото.

­ Ей с тоя клон ке го потрошим! ­ размахало някакъв клон първото прасенце.

­ Ей, по-леко ма! ­ рекло второто, защото клонът го шибнал по кратуната.

­ Ке му го наврем тоя клон в … ­ но първото прасенце не могло да довърши, тъй като клонът съборил второто в ледените води на потока и то се разпискало:

­ Помооощ! Помооощ!

­ Олеле, що стори ти ма! ­ провикнало се третото прасенце и се опитало да помогне на второто, но течението вече го било отнесло далееече, далече.

­ Вълкът е виновен ­ заявило първото и, залитайки, тръгнало към хълма, откъдето се чувал самотният вой на Вълчо.

­ Ке го утепем ­ допълнило третото прасенце и двамцата, прегърнати през рамо, се заклатушкали да отмъстят.

Намерили Вълка (премръзнал, та се вкочанил ­ а топките му ­ на ечемик се свили) и като го подбрали, направо го утепали от бой. След това се върнали при поточето да полеят победата. Напили се като кирки и заспали. Напролет, когато Баба Меца най-сетне изпълзяла от бърлогата си, била приятно изненадана от замразеното свинско, което открила да се валя безпризорно в ракитака.

Когато обаче изяла месото, Баба Меца така се напила от високото алкохолно съдържание в него, че си забравила името и накрая си измислила ново, което било 6тата мечка.



[B2]дали се разбира на английски?

[B3]Не може да си намери място; в главата ми се вътри думата restless

[B4]Да я стоплят – чисто физически

[B5]Викам да ги подменим с US popular лекарства за температура и болка в мускулите


[B7]Все й се върти из главата

[D8]Нещо не е наред

[B9]Някаква по-засукана дума за усещане?

[B10]Не ме кефи повторението на her


[B12]докато над мен се е ширнало едно измито от дъжда звездно небе


[D14]eurodict, search for  сторено


[D16]буквален превод

[D17]чете се трудно

[D18]не съм сигурен, дали на английски ще се разбере метафората, но ако ще – много ме кефи как звучи

[D19]няма начин да няма термин за този вид прическа


[D21]е едно такова свенливо същество



[D24]дали тук наистина означава изкуствен в този смисъл?

[D25]Нещо ми е куцо

[D26]И това не ме кефи, но не зная точно защо

[B27]Тук и на български не ми допада, и на английски…

[B28]Разказвайки ненормални истории от департамента… J


[B30]Времето до 10 изтече неусетно и приятно. – някак на бълграски звучи много по-леко и приятно

[B31]nicely? Нещо по-колоритно?

[B32]То и в българския текст е същото, но нещо не се разбира, защо WE HAD TO

[B33]Някакъв по-английски словоред?

[B34]Тъй като изобщо не ми се прибира…


[B36]трябва ни нещо по-разговорно

[B37]woe and behold…

Tags: ,

WILD BITCH SEASON 4 (English draft): Post Scriptum

At 6.30 PM on April 27th 2003 on the Околовръстния път – somewhere in the section between Simeonovo road and the turn отбивката for Mladost – a blue Škoda 120L was moving/driving in the pouring rain. The headlights were on, the wipers hardly managed to maintain an acceptable level of visibility through the front windshield.

Wild Bitch Season
by Rogger Dojh

Support the online publication of Wild Bitch Season by donating 1 BGL!

      / |  '     \
     (  )         0          It was a dark and stormy night...
      \_/-, ,----'
         ====           //
        /  \-'~;    /~~~(O)
       /  __/~|   /       |
     =(  _____| (_________|

Post Scriptum (translation early alpha)

* Всички съвпадения на имена на хора и места, както и съвпадението на цялата история с реалността са напълно случайни. *


At 6.30 PM on April 27th 2003 on the Околовръстния път – somewhere in the section between Simeonovo road and the turn отбивката for Mladost – a blue Škoda 120L was moving/driving in the pouring rain. The headlights were on, the wipers hardly managed to maintain an acceptable level of visibility through the front windshield.

Because of the low clouds it had started going dark earlier than usual. The driver, who was alone in the vehicle, was driving carefully – with around 50 km/h – and even then he was standing as upright in his seat as he could with the hope to be able to discern any potential obstacles on the road, hidden under the huge puddles. His attention was pointed to the road and the мантинелата from where pedestrians could jump out.

A freight truck swished by in the opposite direction. The driver of the blue Škoda shot a quick glance in the rear view mirror and cursed aloud. The trucker was driving with at least 70 km/h.

The next car in the opposite lane/way was with halogen headlights and the driver in the blue Škoda slowed down, completely blinded by the bright light.

When the hotshot black car went by the young guy behind the wheel looked around and abruptly slowed down. Next to the road, at a bus stop covered in mud, stood a soaking wet creature and was obviously waiting for a bus.

The car stopped in front of the creature and the right door opened. The girl (wore a skirt and had long hair – we’ll all keep our fingers crossed for it to be a girl and not a transvestite) approached the car and exchanged a few words with the driver. After that she got into the car, closed the door and the blue Škoda drove on.


Swish-swish-swish, the wipers said. The tires hissed against the wet road (настилка). The girl next to me was sitting still, clenching her hands in her lap. Or not – there was still a movement – she was shaking all over.

‘Where exactly in Mladost are you going?’ I looked at her with the corners of my eyes without taking my attention off the отвратителния road. She lifted her hands to fix her hair a bit and sprayed me with rain waiter. Poor thing, she was wet all over. I reached and set the heating to the maximum.

‘Number 43.’

‘Alright. Are you cold?’

‘A little bit.’

‘Hang on.’

I slowed down and pulled over. I took of my jacket and helped her put it on over her light shirt. The girl looked at me thankfully.

‘It’s thin but it’s really warm actually.’ I put up the hood over her head. The girl looked like the Emperor from Star Wars like that.

‘Thank you!’ she said. I let her settle in the шушляковото thing and drove the Blue Bird on.

We stood quiet for a while. Some fag in an Audi drove pass me just in front of the muzzle of another freight truck and got into his lane at the last second. The truck was changing short and long lights like mad. After that we got to an unregulated crossroad where I was engaged in staring through the water streaks.

‘It’s a bit insane waiting for a bus on the Околовръстното in weather like that’ I threw in when we went out on a straight section and I could relax a little.

The girl looked at me from underneath the hood.

‘A lot of insane things happened today already’ she replied.

‘What happened?’

She sneezed.

‘I dropped my cell phone in a puddle. After that there war no taxis on околовръстното – as if I was waiting at some country road. Instead an empty bus 111 drove by but it didn’t stop.’

‘Great/groovy’ I said. My guess was these weren’t the insane things she meant but I decided not to bug her with questions.

I got to the exit for Mladost 4 and slowed down to turn. Before I made the left turn I had to wait for another freight truck to drive by. A lot of freight trucks had come out in the rain. As if they were rain worms. Fssssss … the freight truck went through a huge whole on the road and splashed water all over.

‘I’m not diverting you a lot, am I?’ the girl asked.

‘Not at all. I’m going to the Regional Hospital. Where exactly is number 43?’

‘It’s a bit into the neighborhood. There is a pet shop behind the market. Then there’s a store and a café next to it. Do you know it?’


‘If you could drive me to there…’

I smiled reassuringly and kept driving.

In 5 minutes I was already maneuvering through the tangled narrow streets around the building and stopped in the parking in front. The girl looked at me. I looked at her in turn, a wet lock of hair had got out from underneath the hood; a narrow streak of water was dripping from it onto the jacket, reflecting the light from the neon signs and street lamps.

‘Thanks very much.’

‘No worries, we got you home.’

‘If you hadn’t picked me up…we’ll I’m gonna get sick anyway but otherwise I would have probably died on that bus stop.’

‘Well, good luck.’

I smiled.

‘So…I’m gonna go’

She took her purse, opened the door and started getting off. At the last moment she stopped.


She tucked her leg back.

‘I completely forgot. I was going to leave with this…’

At the parking lot it was quite lit up and for the first time I had the chance to take a good look at the girl after she got out of the шушляковата jacket. She was quite pretty. Actually she was … ‘A knockout.’ I thought. ‘Why don’t I meet women like that? Obviously they don’t go to the places where I go…’ I just didn’t quite realize I had just met one.

‘Once again sorry for troubling you, I …’

‘Aren’t you going to ask me for coffee?’ I interrupted her and smiled apologetically.

‘Well, actually…’

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to bother you.’

‘No, it’s a really good idea, it’s just that it’s a bit overcrowded upstairs and …’

‘Don’t worry, I was just kidding. Ok, I gotta run. And you try not to get sick.’

‘If you have time, we can go for coffee tomorrow. Would you like that?’

‘Sure. Write down my phone number.’

‘I have nothing to write it on.’

‘Hmm. Hang on.’

I pulled out of my shirt pocket my military notebook and pen. I tore out a piece of paper and wrote my number. I wrote Rogger Dojh underneath.

‘Is your name Dojh?’


‘I’m Sylvia.’

‘Nice to meet you Sylvia.’

‘Well, then…I’m going to go in. I’m really cold.’


Finally the wet creature left the Blue Bird and disappeared into one of the entrances. Before she went in she looked my way and waved.

The seat next to me was wet. It was like the girl had peed herself. Ugh, ok, it’s just rain water. I smiled sourly and reared out.


Monday was the day my cell phone didn’t ring once. I was a little sorry she didn’t call. That night I went to bed in a bad mood. The next morning my leave was over and went back to the army department where I was serving. C’est la vie …


Date: June 23rd 2003
Time: 6:00 PM.
Venue: one of the Simeonovo houses (the Western part)

O-Gosh and I were just completing the install of the PC and the amplifiers. We took out the two speakers in front of the house so that the sound in the yard where we had arranged some tables and chairs would be better.

My cell phone started chirping.

‘This is Dojh.’

‘Hey Denushko!’

‘Hey Mimi! How are you sweetie?’

‘I’m in trouble. My battery is down and I can’t start the car. I can get through to Mum and Milady. I don’t know if I can come.’

‘If you want me to break your legs don’t come.’ I replied cheerfully.

‘I don’t want to spend on a caaab’ Mimi dragged on ‘I’m flat broke and my mom and Sashko are in the country so there’s no one I can take cash from.’

‘Don’t try and find excuses, you just don’t want to come’

‘I dooo!’

‘Then I’ll come pick you up.’


‘Yep. I’ll start off in 10 min. You make sure you’re ready by the time I get there’

‘Thank you Denushko! But if you don’t want to drive all that way…’

‘No, of course I’ll come!’

‘Great, I’m really glad.’

‘K, see you in a bit.’


‘You’re gonna go pick Mimi up?’ O-Gosh inquired.

‘Yep. I’m heading there now, cause the freaks will start coming in any minute.’


I headed down Simeonovo road. I hesitated for a moment whether to go through Student Town but at the thought of the 50 traffic lights on the way I се отказах and I swerved on the Околовръстното. Traffic was heavy. Maybe that was a mistake. Well, drive on.

I picked up the speed. The weather was great, unlike the last time I was coming down from O-Gosh’s house. I wondered if I was going to recognize the bus stop where I had picked up that ungrateful goose. Doubt it. It was pouring so much back then that I could hardly see anything.

I approached a bus stop. With a sour smile I looked at the people that were standing there. They were bored. Околовръстният път isn’t one of the nicest places where you can wait for public transport. Too many cars, too much dust…

Hey, a familiar face. For a part of the second our eyes met; the girl’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. My brain went into a higher gear and… Damned! I shifted from fourth to second gear, hit the breaks, letting go of the съединителя, put on the emergency lights and pulled over. A couple of faggots swished by me hitting their horns.

I was about 50 meters away from the bus stop. I turned around in my seat. There was too much traffic on the road – it would have been insane to rear to it. But that wouldn’t have been necessary anyway – I was about to have some company.

I turned off the engine and got off. I started in the opposite direction to meet her.

Once she saw I was out the girl waved at me. She was strolling fast. We met halfway.

‘Hi!’ Sylvia said/exclaimed. ‘Sorry for no calling you but I lost the piece of paper with your phone on it! I looked for it everywhere. It probably fell in the elevator…’

‘Yeah, riiight…’ I replied.

‘No, honestly!’ Sylvia reached out to shake my hand ‘Hello then.’

‘Hi’ I grinned – with a cheerful creature like that you couldn’t help smiling.

‘Where were you heading so fast?’

I looked back at the Blue Bird. It was standing quietly next to the road, blinking in orange.

‘Sofia. I’m heading your way actually.’

‘Great! This time I’ll invite you to come up for coffee!’

We started walking towards the car.

‘Actually I’m inviting today.’

‘What’s the occasion?’

‘I completed my military service.’

‘You were a soldier?!’

‘Yeah. It’s my discharge date today. The party is in Simeonovo. At the villa of a friend of mine.

‘But you’re going to Sofia?’

‘I have to go pick up my sister.’ I often present Mimi as my sister. That’s how you avoid interpretational misunderstandings – so, if you’re free…’

‘Oh, I can’t come. I’m really sorry! I have an appointment tonight.’

Seeing the disappointment on my face, Sylvia added:

‘Oh, I don’t want things to be like this. Are you free tomorrow night?’


‘So let’s go out then.’ we were almost next to the car.

‘Deal’ I opened the door for her. ‘Five thirty at the ХМС.’


The Blue Bird roared, put on a left blinker and arrogantly poured into the traffic, causing a new wave of horn sounds.

‘Blow me’ I said from behind the wheel. Sylvia looked at me questioningly. ‘Oh don’t worry’ I added quickly ‘that’s how I communicate with the rest of the drivers.’


‘Are you alone?’


‘Weird evening’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The scent of the air. It’s driving me insane.’

‘Hang on’ noise from interruptions of moving a wireless phone around. A window is opened. ‘Oh. I haven’t gone out today, can you believe it?’


‘I don’t want to see anyone. I hate the crowds lately.’

‘That’s completely natural.’

‘And you? Are you alone?’

‘Yeah. Alone with the cat.’

‘Tell her to say meow.’

‘Here kitty, kitty…there. Say meow. Meowmeowmeow! Say meow!’


‘There you go.’

‘Geez, what did you do to it?’

‘Nothing, I just turn her tail like a music box lever.’


‘Heh. I understand what you mean about the air.’


‘Why are you home? Usually at this time you’re somewhere out or you’re fast asleep.’

‘I didn’t feel like going out anywhere either. Actually I’m in a really weird mood. Now I want to go out but it’s late. There’s nowhere to go and no one to go with.

‘You might turn out to be a night bird.’

‘Or I could turn out to be a night mammal. Or something else, like a night reptile. Or a night fish. Or a night insect.’

‘Or a night lamp. It’s quite dark here, actually.’

‘Here too. But there’s enough light coming in from outside.’

‘There are night insects coming in as well. What did you do during the day?’

‘Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, awk, awk.’

‘Won’t the tick-tock man run out of clocks?’

‘I’m guessing he lays them, Twenty a week. He might be nesting them. Puts four clock on the bidet and squats so they’re warm, hoping for something to hatch.’

‘Like what?


‘It must be really scary.’

‘Unbelievably scary. Instead of a beak it has two watch hands and is wound up with a key.’

‘Does it tick-tock when it walks?’


‘He must have a whole bunch of ticktockosauruses at his place.’

‘Don’t know bout that but he surely has a lot of clocks. And he has a bidet.’

‘Did you deal with him all day?’

‘Almost. I drew a clock. I could scan it and send it to you on your mail when I get home tomorrow.’

‘Definitely. Where are you now?’

‘At my parents’ place. I’m taking Garfield to the vet tomorrow.’

‘What’s wrong with him?’

‘He’s limping.’

‘He’ll be fine.’

‘What about you? Weren’t you at work today?’

‘No. I took a leave for 5 days. I haven’t stayed at home to relax in an awfully long time. What was that?’

‘A tram.’

‘At 2 AM?’

‘If you think about it, we as a phenomenon are also abnormal at this time of night.’

‘That’s right. It’s weird that you caught me awake. You had never called so late at night.’

‘Fact. I tried to sleep, but after an I hour I got up voluntarily. I hesitated whether to risk calling you. Finally I decided to hang up if you don’t pick up after the first ring.’

‘Hehe. And I picked up. Actually the phone is next to the bed; I was just lying on my back with my eyes opened, trying not to think about anything. It’s awfully hard.’

‘I know. Though I think I’ve mastered it.’

‘Why are you awake then?’

‘Well, I managed to fall asleep and something woke me up. The surroundings here are already unfamiliar to me. I had a ton of adrenalin pour into my blood. Even if I amputate/sever my brain I won’t be able to fall asleep soon.’

‘Something just perched on my window sill.’

‘Could be a night fish.’

‘Looks like a bird.’

‘Is it ticking?’

‘I don’t know – it’s too far away to hear.’

‘Might be a ticktockosaurus.’

‘What should I do if it really is?’

‘Well, first thing you need is a hammer. When it approaches you start hitting repeatedly and very hard. After that all you need to do is clean up the glass and зъбни wheels.’

‘I guess it was a night bird. It flew away’


‘Sylvia, do you want to see me?’




‘Weird offer.’

‘Weird night.’

‘Yeah. Do you have anything specific in mind?’

‘I do, but the suggestion has to come from you.’

‘And what should that be?’

‘Well, for instance … inviting me over.’



‘Sure. You know where I live.’

‘I don’t know which floor.’

‘Third. Mladenovi. A massive wooden door.’

‘Do you have candles?’


‘Red wine?’



‘Will Garfield be coming?’

‘He’ll guard the house from night trams trying to get in and eat it.’

‘When will you be here?’

‘In 45 minutes. If I don’t die on the way. In that case I won’t be coming.’


‘Well, ok, if I get stopped by the cops it could be later.’

‘K, I’ll wait for you.’

‘Bis dann’



Another night, another place.

Warm air. Darkness. Santana. Samba Pa Ti. Vanilla ice cream, bottle of Crème De Mint and another one with water – on the floor next to the mattress. Somewhere among these invisible things the light from my cell phone blinks.

‘If you open the window, you’ll hear the song of the crickets.’

‘More likely we’ll hear the song of the dogs and potentially the song of some whore on our neighbor’s TV above. Ouch!’

‘Hehe, you’re ticklish.’

‘Well, that doesn’t mean you have to harass me. Ouch!’


‘Let’s see now who’s ticklish.’

For a while all that could be heard is silent struggle. The female voice starts giggling. After that the laughter quiets down and flows over into heavy breathing.

‘Tickle-tickle’ the other voice suddenly says.’

‘I’m going to kill you’ Sylvia replies. ‘Why did you stop!!! Hey, what is that?!?!’


‘It’s cold!’

‘Well, having in mind how hot you are it won’t stay cold for long.’

‘Give me some ice cream.’

‘Try not to bite my finger off.’



‘Hahaha.’ the creature/snake is pleased with herself for biting me.’

‘If you go on like this there won’t be anyone to lick the mint off you and a fly will get stuck to you.’

‘Ok then, bite me back if you want to. Ooouch!!!’

‘Is that alright?’

Obviously it’s not.

‘Stop it! You started first! Stop. Ouch! Ouch!’

‘Serves you right.’

‘Ok! Truce.’


‘But we need to seal it with a comrade kiss.’

‘Let’s do that’

What can you hear when two people are kissing? But who even pays attention to that stuff? The attention is focused primarily on the tip of the tongue. It receives and transmits so much information, that it’s enough to flood the brain. The slightly sweet and a bit metallic taste of the girl’s mouth, the roughness of her tongue, the hills of her teeth, the dent at the center of the lower lip, the soft skin on her chin, the little cave at the base of her throat/neck, which is already salty…


‘Next time I’ll warm up the mint beforehand and put it in a thermos.’

‘Stop talking’ it doesn’t really sound well on paper…but that’s cuz the intonation and the characteristic hoarseness in the voice are missing.’

Hey, that’s a belly button! The sweet thing has a ticklish belly button.

‘Come on, just relax’ I reproach her gently.

‘Why don’t you just continue?’

Later on:

‘Is that mint again?’

‘Yep. I just found a new technology for warming it up.’

‘I guess the sheets are already Made on Mars.’ I add a little after that.

‘Why Mars?’

‘Cuz the Martians are green’

‘Isn’t it logical then that their sheets are in another color?’

‘They have a poor imagination. Quiet.’

‘Mmmm. And maybe the Martian mint is just red?’


‘That was a rhetorical question. Please, go on!’

Some time passes.

Time passes.

‘I want you in me.’

‘Heh, the sweet thing is aroused.’

‘Stop…getting…distracted. Come on, I can’t pull you in alone. Come on, COME ON!’


‘Pick yourself up a little higher.’

‘Don’t move around so much. Ok.’

Something like silence.

‘Do you want me to be on time’

‘It would be my pleasure.’

‘You’re soaking wet.’

‘I’m pretending that I’m a night fish. Eeehaaa!’

Sqush, squish, squish.

‘Do you want to turn the volume up? I’m getting distracted from all that squishing.’

I start laughing. I squeeze out from underneath Sylvia’s slippery body and I start maneuvering between the furniture in the dark. Instead of dealing with the PC, I blow up the volume of the amplifiers.

‘Come on, what are you still doing there?’

‘I’m looking for condoms.’

‘Bullshit! Come back here!’

‘I’m kidding. I’m actually looking for the way back.’

A pale hand reaches out in the darkness, grabs my leg and starts pulling me. When I come closer Sylvia checks how the walk has affected me and decides that I need some reinforcement. I had to stay up for a while.

‘Do you remember that movie I showed you today?’ I throw in innocently. Oh yeah, she remembers.

For a moment Sylvia pulls back to take a sip from the water bottle.

‘And don’t you finish!’ she warns me ‘I’m first.’

‘Don’t worry’ I reply impatiently and romantically bury my fingers in her hair. After that I pull in her head without any trance of romance.

Half an hour later we lay next to each other, drying up. Everything smells like mint, including us.

‘Hey, I completely forgot. I bought you a small present!’ Sylvia says and starts groping around to look for her purse.

‘It’s on the couch. The other side of the облегалката.’

Sylvia picks herself up, reaches out and lazily pulls out her purse. She starts shuffling in. Something clicks. She takes it out and hands it to me. I reach over for my cell phone and press a random button to light the present with the screen.

‘It’s a box of Tick-tacks!’ she notifies me with self-satisfaction and rolls over me ‘Do you like it?’

‘You could say so. Are you implying I have a bad breath?’

‘Nooo. You’re so silly. Tick-tock, tick-tock!’

‘Food for ticktockosauruses?’ intoxicated with the mint, my conscious manages to hit the right directions the second time.

‘Bingo! Today a girl at work took out a box of tick-tacks and I found that very funny.’

‘Does that girl have a key on her back?’

‘No, she doesn’t. But she’s very stupid and she talks a lot. She’s like clockwork.’

‘It could be some type of new sound clock. Something like a sand clock, but you can tell the time by how much your head hurts by listening to her. Is that Stanislava?’

‘Yeah, I told you about her – I forgot.’


‘Nope, I’m still wet’ if Sylvia could purr, she would have done it at that moment.

‘I meant will you be cold if I open the windows and turn on the air conditioning.’

‘Let’s change the sheets first. They’re soaked.’

‘ I don’t think I have a change of sheets.’

‘Well, we’ll get dressed and we’ll take the sheets off.’

Click! We both squint against the light of the night lamp. But we have to since our underwear is spread all over the room. Sylvia has stretched seductively on her belly and is looking at me with one eye.

‘Maybe we should stay naked a little while longer’ she murmurs.

‘It’s not a bad idea but we’ll need to wait at least three hours.’

‘For whaaaaat’ the duckling is being goofy.

‘So that you don’t blow up the belly, sweetheart.’ I say.

‘Mmmm’ she frowns at the thought.

‘This is yours. And this. And that.’

With a huge discontent Sylvia starts moving and putting on her clothes. I jump in my boxers, pick up the stuff around, so that the only things that stay are two glasses, the mint and the water (we’re on my turf – damn, my grandma always tells me not to spoil women and show them how good a host I am…), I open the window and turn the air conditioning on. The pleasure from the cold stream of air is borderline orgasmic.

Sylvia pours in the drinks. She gropes for the remote and turns on the TV.

‘’I have to be at the tick-tock man’s place at 9.30 AM tomorrow’ I say after I lie down next to Sylvia and pull the covers.

‘Damn. What time is it?

‘2.30 AM.’

‘Hm. How are we going to get up? Will you give him a tick-tack candy?’

‘I’ll give him a leather key, to wind himself up’

Sylvia reaches over me and turns off the light. After that she turns off the TV.

‘Let’s sleep she whispers in my ear. ‘Aren’t you sleepy?’

‘I’m really sleepy actually. But you shift around too much and I can’t sleep.’

‘There, I’m stopping!’

Sylvia puts her head on my shoulder, after that I position my shoulder under her head and finally we settle down. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…

Only the air conditioning keeps humming quietly.


Back in time.

In the rainy day there was a piece of glass. On one side of the glass was the grey, dark, summer afternoon, and on the other side sat Sylvia and me. Somewhere, in some café.

Our first date. It was awkward.

Sylvia was playing with a curl of her hair. I was smiling cuz I found it amusing. That same story with the awkwardness of the first date was repeating, repeating… I managed to come up with the conclusion that every beginning is the same. Only later will the atmosphere around the girl creep into your world and will give the specific characteristics of the romance/affair.

‘With all that sunshine last week…’ Sylvia made an expressive gesture towards the rain that kept pouring out.

‘That’s a good omen.’ I replied ‘When I was going into the army it was raining like hell. After that I had a very smooth service.’

‘Where did you serve?’

‘Three months in Pleven, as a rookie, then eighteen days in Gorna Banya and after that at 5th kilometer.

‘In Sofia?’

‘Yep. Actually 7 minutes walking distance from where my grandma lives.’

‘Well, you definitely can’t complain.’ Sylvia gave me a wide smile. ‘And you don’t look like it had a bad effect on you.’

‘I’m so abstinent for social life right now, that there’s no chance I’ll be looking bad.’ I clarified. ‘Everything makes me happy, including this lousy rain; I can be at some place with a girl, instead of giving watch at Studena dam, for example.’

Sylvia laughed. After that she put her elbows on the table and leaned forward.

‘Your pupils are widened.’ She notified me, staring in my eyes.

“If you knew what my pulse is like…’ I thought in reply, but kept silent. I guessed that my look … said everything. A guy that was just discharged. He doesn’t accept women as people. They are … and object of focused attention? Of full concentration actually? Even my spinal cord reacts at the sight of a woman. The radar works at its full capacity and nothing goes by unnoticed… Just imagine how a man that hasn’t eaten for 9 months will look at any fried chicken crossing the street – with a certain mix of fanatical longing, instantaneous resetting of the moral system (the new one has only one center) and complete disregard of everything else.

A thunder struck outside – strong and close. Sylvia’s pupils widened as well.

‘You’re so beautiful, it’s driving me insane.’ I said it so suddenly, that I got scared myself.

‘Oh… Thanks!’ Sylvia looked embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done that, damn, what am I doing! ‘This is a compliment that … a woman doesn’t hear every day.’ she clarified. She leaned back. I agreed. I couldn’t say anything after that. I kept quiet.

After a short pause in which we watched the rain Sylvia looked at me and asked:

‘What are you going to do now? Will you look for a job?’

‘Actually I’m already working. For the last month I was on a leave and had to start working… I’m photographing clocks and updating the website of an old client.


‘Antiques. Horrible, round clicking things.’

‘Why are you taking pictures of them?’

‘I’m selling them on internet. For a client. I.e., he’s a clock man and fixes and restores them, and I just take care of the electronic part of his business.’

‘Sounds interesting!’

‘I don’t think so. It’s disgusting. I want a sledge hammer.’

‘Is that why you don’t wear a watch?’

‘No, but this is why I won’t start wearing one again.’

I felt how the silence will fall over us again. I didn’t want this to happen.

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ I asked.



This afternoon was sunny and cheerful like a pleasant memory from my early childhood. Something was trying to get its way through the everyday troubles and overwhelm my being. It seemed like slight pang of happiness. Naturally, I was resisting it – every time I had succumbed to such bubbly happy moods, shit happened.

It wasn’t so hard to isolate myself from that exciting mood. It was enough to focus on the bullshit I was working on.

Actually, if I have to be honest, I was shooting clocks. Tick-tock. Awk.

My cell phone chirped. I picked up the weird, pink, hit-resistant thing made by Siemens and said:



Sylvia said it as if it was a statement. Groovy/cool. I had taught myself to get turned on by that casual tone (conditioned reflex). I replied with a Hi. Also awfully casual. Let her learn as well.

I went to the window, where behind the net against insects, there was Luilin. One of the most disgusting things that could be behind my fucking window.

‘How are you? You’re probably working?’

‘Oh, yeah, I’m ticking.’

‘Do you have a lot more to do?’

‘Enough to start puking soon. What bout you? Where are you? What are you up to?’

‘I’m home. I got back from work a few minutes ago. Do you want to meet tonight?’


‘How much longer will you be there?’

‘No fucking idea. Till I’m done. I don’t want to say anything definite cuz I don’t want to mislead you. I’ll call you when I’m done.’

Outside the sun was shining. There was something prisonlike in that net. I remembered that at the clockman’s balcony there were real hideous (зловещи) bars. Before I went into the army, probably a week before that, I stood there, basking in the fall sun and imagined how the daughters of the Ticktock man feel, when they come out to play, surrounded by prison bars. Hellish. Then I felt like grabbing two of the metal things and start screaming through the balcony: ‘Let me go, I’m innocent, set me freeee!’ All of that mixed with the unimaginable depression of the imminent military service (it turned out to be not as bad as I thought, but who know what awaits them…it’s depression…).

‘Do you want me to stop by and pick you up?’

‘Hm?’ first I had to return from the flashbacks and only after that proanalyzed Sylvia’s words. ‘Aha. It’s just that I’m with the Blue Bird.’

‘That’s ok. I’ll drive you back to pick it up tomorrow.’

Sylvia had very recently got her car and was dying to drive people around. A bit frightening/ enervating, as it combined a woman and a young driver into one but … how could I say no.

‘Great. Then I’ll call you when I start listing the shit on eBay.

‘And don’t get frustrated. When you’re done, the pleasant part of the evening will start. ‘

‘God made you to heal people’s souls. Gave you speech to pour pleasantness into people’s ears. I also hope he gave you a hammer and a Makarov.’

‘I know what you need the hammer for. And the gun?’

‘I don’t want to bother and kill a clockman with a hammer. I intend on blowing his brains out with a single shot – right in the middle of the forehead.’



‘I’ll leave you with your clocks. And just so you know, I’ll be lurking around the phone like a cat.

‘Pussy, pussy, pussy!’

‘Hey, stop it.’





This story ends in a different way. It ends with my final meeting with the clockman – to get my last payment.

I’m getting out of the apartment. The Ticktock man comes down with me to the entrance door to let me out, as their system is like that. The clockman is greasy as hands, with which you just ate chicken.

‘Ok, then, bye and what do you think, will the new guy be good at this?’ he’s speaking without putting an end to his sentences. Every paragraph he makes is a long, stating sentence.

‘Oh, yeah, he’s the man, don’t get on his back, he’s just a bit off cuz everything is new to him. And both of us hanging over his head is too much on him. Otherwise he’s a very intelligent dude, you won’t have any trouble.

‘Well, sure, but if something comes up and he doesn’t make it, if somebody else has to be trained you’ll come, cuz you know the stuff…I’ll pay, of course!’

Of course! Man, that unbelievable Scrooge was negotiating over 100 leva for I don’t know how long. I asked for it to train the new guy; finally he didn’t give me that but instead offered me not to work for the last two weeks and just train, in the meantime take my full payment for the month. I swear that’s what I did. Finally the clockman had become frustrated but I had had enough of him and just let him deal with the newbie, the mails and didn’t lift a finger for anything else besides training. Go to hell.

‘Sure, no prob.’ I lied. I.e. if he called, I would ask for money, and so much of it, that he wouldn’t be willing to pay.

I let him get back home, letting myself feel sorry for him for one last time. Unlike me, he couldn’t pick up his hat and get away from himself. After that u jumped into the Blue Bird, leaned back into the seat and sat quietly for a while. After which I let out a wild happy roar, turned on Eminem to the max, started the car and floored the gas rearing out. With a slide I got out the parking lot, shifted into first and put the pedal to the metal.

Here the camera moves away from the protagonist (* My editor claims that there is no protagonist in belletristic writing/ fiction. I say I don’t give a damn :) – and stays at the exit of the parking lot. With the roar of a tortured 1.2 liter engine, draining out every last one of its strained out 45 horse powers, the Blue Bird flew towards the free adequate world and the civilization; further away from all clockmen and further away from Luilin.

A dog passed in front of the camera, sniffed at it and peed on the lens. But the protagonist was no longer there,
and he didn’t
a fuck

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