I don't know people who surround me.
They try to get in touch with me.
Some comment on the situation, some provoke,they come closer,
talk to me or shout something from the distance.
They put beer, vodka and other things next to me.
They try to provoke me to leave the counter.
I am separated.
I don't get in touch with anybody.
I don't talk, and I don't answer anybody's questions.
A girl approaches me; she tries to get in touch with me.
She is looking into my eyes, she is asking questions.
She grabs my legs finally and with the help of the others she moves my body into the other end of the room.
I don't move, I don't react, and I don't change the position of my body.
They put me in an armchair.
I come back to the counter.
The girl moves me again.
She tries to get in touch with me again.
She strokes my hair; she puts it behind my ears.
She moves my glasses so they hold my hair.
She strokes my head, she leaves.
Now my face is exposed.
People look into my face and make comments. They try to talk.
They deliver their monologues addressed to me.
The situation change its intensity. An interest in me constantly rises and falls down.
After five hours of sitting on the counter I leave.
End of the action.
