“They gave us an award?” Kleinpiet writes the word on the counter with an exclamation mark behind it.
“Not they, Kleinpiet, a nice lady. She looks like this: . Look, you can even click her.” Even Gertruida – who knows everything – is surprised. “The Happy Hugger, she calls herself. Haven’t seen her in National Geographic, but she obviously recognised my genius.”
“No, she just felt sorry for me below the counter here. I think she must be very compasionate.”
“It’s my rugged looks,” Vetfaan eyes himself in the mirror behind the bar. He manages to fit himself in between the Cactus Jack and the bottle of Bell’s.
“No way, not at all. A lady like that wouldn’t go for you. No, she likes me, I’m sure. If I combed my hair like that and started using lipstick, I’d look a little like her.” Precilla runs her fingers through her hair and tries to smile seductively.
“Oh, stop it. We were nominated as a group. Now they want us to answer some questions. It’s part of the rules.” Gertruida gets out a notebook to write down some answers.
“Favourite colour?” The unanimous decision is sandy brown.
“Favourite non-alcoholic drink?” She has to explain what the term means. Kleinpiet can’t understand why people would actually like to drink non-alcoholic beverages, but settles for Coke.
“Okay. Here’s a difficult one. Facebook or Twitter?” Not knowing either, they settle for Twitter, because it has a birdie-sound.
“Good. Now – what is our passion?” Unanimous: Cactus Jack.
“…and favourite flower?” Kleinpiet and Vetfaan: Kosmos. Boggel: Daisy. Precilla: Rose. Gertruida: Canola. No idea: Sammie.
It was left to Gertruida to nominate five blogs – the others think blog is the English for blok (like in wood). Her list reads as follows:
“Can’t we just nominate that lady right back? I mean, she was very kind to nominate us at all, seeing we sit out here in the desert.” Precilla is still combing her hair.
“No, we’ll just invite her over for a Cactus Jack. That’ll put some hair on her chest.” Vetfaan tries to squeeze in between the Bells and the Oude Meester, but he just doesn’t fit. Gertruida gives him a dirty look, which he ignores.
“We’ll just tell her we appreciate the gesture. She is so kind to think of us.”
“So, do we get a free round on this one, Boggel?”
Boggel takes down the Oude Meester , shakes it, and smiles. “Sure thing. This one will last a while. Bottoms up, and cheers.”
“I still wonder why…”
Vetfaan smiles at the bigger space between the bottles. “We’ve got all the sunshine, that’s why…”
Precilla jogs over to her pharmacy. If she doesn’t hand out the Brufens now, the town will be awfully quiet tomorrow.