I could tell that striking up a conversation wasn’t easy for him, but he did his best. He asked me what I did for a living and I shouted not much. Then he asked whether I had kids, and I told him I didn’t. Meir was quiet for a while and then said it was weird how loud I was at demonstrations while here I hardly had any words, and I told him he was right and felt that I was about to disappear again. At some point he told me I looked kind of pale, and that maybe I should wash my face, and I said it sounded like a good idea. I went to the bathroom and stood in front of the sink. I told myself that I had to calm down. That I couldn’t let the one person who finally came into my life get away. But then I looked in the mirror and nearly screamed; my skin was so pale, almost see-through, that I could barely see myself.

I rushed out of the bathroom and started shouting across the restaurant at Meir that everyone in this country was corrupt and that you couldn’t trust no one no more. That the minister of finance was a freaking joke. The diners all looked at me like I was some crackpot who had just escaped from the loony bin, and Meir whispered that this just wouldn’t do and that I had to calm down. I knew from his expression that I was losing him, but I couldn’t help it, because at that moment I realized that I’d do anything not to disappear again, even sell my Dad’s grave. Meir gave up, lit a cigarette, and sat there quietly while I continued to shout about how everything’s shit here and that you can’t get a moment’s peace and quiet in this country. He finally asked for the check and left a hundred-shekel tip to make up for the embarrassment I caused. When we stepped out into the street I shouted into his ear that it had been the best day of my life, and he said he was happy to hear that. Then he asked if I could make my way home on my own ’cause he had to run a few errands in the area, and I didn’t say a word, since I knew I had caused him enough grief.

And that was it. I actually just came from the restaurant. You know, I think I’ll stop going to the demonstrations in the neighborhood. There are enough poor souls in other cities, enough reasons to protest. So I’ll have to take those long bus rides again, but I’ll survive. Better than bumping into Meir again.