The Artificial Silk Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

get even wilder. And nobody talks to me, because they all think they’re something special.
    The girls are made up of two halves — one half is with the conservatory and only participates for money and feels like God’s gift to the world, and the others are with the drama school. They don’t get paid, but pay for it — and feel like a million dollars. The same thing is true for the male extras. And they carry on in a way that I’ve never seen before in my life and treat me with condescension, which they are going to regret. And the real actors look down on those from the drama school and are sure to let them know. They also look down on each other, but that they don’t show too much. In any case, there’s a hell of a lot of looking down on each other, and everyone thinks they’rethe only one who’s wonderful. And the janitors are the only ones who act like normal people and greet you when you say hello to them.
    Downstairs there’s a small room where the actors sit when they don’t have to be on stage, and the whole space is filled with smoke and you can hardly breathe. And everyone talks in an affected kind of voice and listens to himself, because no one else is listening. Except when someone is telling a joke, because that’s something they can tell the next person right away, with their affected voices. And they keep running back and forth and have strong upper thighs and then they stop all of a sudden and stare at a piece of paper in a frame that is called rehearsal schedule. And then they jiggle their feet and hum interesting tunes, despite the fact that no one is looking. Only sometimes people from the outside stop by and they get all excited and breathe heavily. And the less important actors mooch cigarettes from each other. And sometimes they give some to each other too.
    And then every morning the director comes in from the street. That’s a very solemn moment. You can tell by the way he pulls the door open that he rules over the theater. And because he’s a big fish and thinks highly of himself, he is almost always thin-lipped and in a bad mood. Otherwise he’s kind of chubby and has greenish skin and his name is Leo Olmütz. And he always sticks his head into the porter’s window really quickly and then pulls itright back — I have no idea why — but it has a great effect. And then he walks down the hallway to his office with those hard soles. The girls from the school make sure he notices them, whenever they intentionally happen to bump into him. And today he said to two of them: “Hello, girls — looks like you’re in a great mood.” That was sensational and they talked about it until noon. The fat blonde, whose face is shiny with grease and red as a tomato and who is called Linni, claims he had given her this look. And the other one with the black pageboy and her filthy mouth who is called Pilli said no. And then still others joined in, and later on they argued whether he had said “hey” or not. And they all formed a gang and looked at me condescendingly, because I wasn’t supposed to hear what they were whispering — and I was sitting nearby at the table in what is called the conversation lounge.
    And all of a sudden, I said very calmly: “I’d be happy to ask Leo tonight whether he said ‘hey’ or not.”
    Everybody was staring at me. I noticed immediately that I was on the right track to get them to respect me.
    That thin drip of a girl Pilli just asked: “So do you know him?”
    And me: “Know who? Leo? Well, of course. He’s personally in charge of my training here, but he doesn’t want me to talk about it. And besides, I’m supposed to keep my distance from all the goings-on around here.”
    And I arrogantly wrinkled my nose and glanced dreamilythrough the top window. After that they’re swarming around me like bumblebees, and that fatso Linni invites me right away to have coffee with her after rehearsal. I’m quietly eating five pieces of danish, thinking to myself: