To-Morrow is Saturday
(Hotel Ambos Mundos, Havana, Ernest Hemingway's
first residence in Cuba (1932-1939) where most of
For Whom the Bell Tolls was written)
Two Bellboys are guessing what Ernest Hemingway is writing in his hotel room at the Hotel Ambos Mundos, Havana, it is summer of, they are in the bar, drinking down some beer, they’re a little tispy.
1st Bellboy—You know what novel he’s working on now?
2nd Bellboy—No, how would I know.
1st Bellboy—I bet you do know, you’re in his room all the time, you should.
Cuban Bartender—Here you boys go, you’ll like it (He pours two large glasses full of beer, filled to the brim of each of the glasses, and places a pitcher of beer alongside the two glasses). That’s a nice cold pitcher too, on the house.
1st Bellboy—Manual’s kind to us employees, always giving us a little extra, on the house, be sorry to see him go, too bad that writer isn’t like that! Rather moody if you ask me.
2nd Bellboy—It’s best you don’t mention his name too loud, news gets around fast, plus I got a head ache.
1st Bellboy—You’ve drank that beer down too fast, its too hot to be doing that, gulp it slower.
2nd Bellboy—It cools my insides down.
1st Bellboy—You’ve been in the sun too long.
2nd Bellboy—Say, Manuel, tell my friend here what Ernest Hemingway is working on in his room, what book now?
Cuban Bartender—Maybe he’s rewriting that book “Sun don’t Rise” now how do I know, you ask silly questions.
(The 1st Bellboy fills his glass back up with beer from the pitcher).
2nd Bellboy—Hay Manuel, what else did you put into the beer glass?—it looks like coffee grounds?
Cuban Bartender—Just drink it and shut up, it’s just some cigarette ashes fell into your glass, your cigarette ashes, to be truthful, you’re just too cock-eyed to notice, it’ll make you walk upside down.
(All three start to laugh)
1st Bellboy—Take a guess at what he’s writing…
Bartender –-You talking to me?
1st Bellboy—I’m looking at you, so I must be talking to you.
Bartender—You were really out of it last night, but so was he, you know, the writer, he told you what he was writing, because you asked him, it sounded like, “Bell and “Toll”, whatever, that means.
(The two bellboys look at one another; both take a drink of their beers, the 1st Bellboy looks confused, the other one impressed.)
1st Bellboy—Holy Hemingway, what do you say, to that.
(He raises his eyebrows, looks at his pal, and then the bartender.)
2nd Bellboy—The big man talked to you, haw, and you didn’t tell me!”
1st Bellboy—Oh, I can’t remember, we both must have been drunk.
2nd Bellboy—Maybe he’ll come out of his tomb tonight and drink with us peasants.
1st Bellboy—He don’t like Cubans, he only likes writing about us, that’s his game.
2nd Bellboy—Show me a guy that doesn’t have a game in motion.
1st Bellboy—I got it, “For Whom the Toad Bellows,” that’s his new book, ask Manual, he’ll tell yaw.
Cuban Bartender—I tell you both once and for all, I don’t know, but I guess it’s something like that, “Bell a Toll,” something like that in the title or maybe “The Bell Toll” not sure what toll means though.
2nd Bellboy—I think when he gets drunk he likes to brag his work up a little…or maybe a lot!
1st Bellboy—I like the book “Women that can’t find Men” that one was pretty good.
Bartender—You got the name wrong, it’s “Men Don’t need Women.”
2nd Bellboy—I don’t think he’d write something like that, and who cares what he’s writing anyhow, my head hurts.
Bartender—I’m one who really don’t care, just change the subject.
1st Bellboy—I was surprised he even talked to me last night.
Bartender— Don’t be too surprised, he was even talking to the dog, the floor and some ghosts, new ones from Madrid.
2nd Bellboy—Maybe I’ll be lucky tonight and he’ll come down out of that room of his and talk to me.
1st Bellboy—What became of his women?
2nd Bellboy—They faded out when he got married. Actually some of them got tired of his moods; he got married didn’t he?
Bartender—The men stick around him all right, it’s just the women get tired of his mouth, and ways.
1st Bellboy—You’ll get into trouble talking that way.
Bartender—Boys it’s getting late, got to close up here soon, so drink up, and well finish this discussion tomorrow.
2nd Bellboy—Why do we keep coming here, this beer just makes me pee, my head hurt, go to sleep wakeup and pee some more…and
1st Bellboy—and nothing, now look over there, the fat one leaning over and talking to the dog, I think that’s…
Bartender—I think you both had one too many that’s an old woman with a white beard. Goodnight now!
(Manual looks a little worried at the gentleman who is walking over to him, he doesn’t have a beard, nor is he fat, he’s just hairy on the forearms, drunk as a skunk, and asks):
“Which way’s the door, I’m going to La Bodeguita del Medio!”
2—11—2009 (written under the sun, on top of my roof in Lima, Peru)
(Hotel Ambos Mundos, Havana, Ernest Hemingway's
first residence in Cuba (1932-1939) where most of
For Whom the Bell Tolls was written)
Two Bellboys are guessing what Ernest Hemingway is writing in his hotel room at the Hotel Ambos Mundos, Havana, it is summer of, they are in the bar, drinking down some beer, they’re a little tispy.
1st Bellboy—You know what novel he’s working on now?
2nd Bellboy—No, how would I know.
1st Bellboy—I bet you do know, you’re in his room all the time, you should.
Cuban Bartender—Here you boys go, you’ll like it (He pours two large glasses full of beer, filled to the brim of each of the glasses, and places a pitcher of beer alongside the two glasses). That’s a nice cold pitcher too, on the house.
1st Bellboy—Manual’s kind to us employees, always giving us a little extra, on the house, be sorry to see him go, too bad that writer isn’t like that! Rather moody if you ask me.
2nd Bellboy—It’s best you don’t mention his name too loud, news gets around fast, plus I got a head ache.
1st Bellboy—You’ve drank that beer down too fast, its too hot to be doing that, gulp it slower.
2nd Bellboy—It cools my insides down.
1st Bellboy—You’ve been in the sun too long.
2nd Bellboy—Say, Manuel, tell my friend here what Ernest Hemingway is working on in his room, what book now?
Cuban Bartender—Maybe he’s rewriting that book “Sun don’t Rise” now how do I know, you ask silly questions.
(The 1st Bellboy fills his glass back up with beer from the pitcher).
2nd Bellboy—Hay Manuel, what else did you put into the beer glass?—it looks like coffee grounds?
Cuban Bartender—Just drink it and shut up, it’s just some cigarette ashes fell into your glass, your cigarette ashes, to be truthful, you’re just too cock-eyed to notice, it’ll make you walk upside down.
(All three start to laugh)
1st Bellboy—Take a guess at what he’s writing…
Bartender –-You talking to me?
1st Bellboy—I’m looking at you, so I must be talking to you.
Bartender—You were really out of it last night, but so was he, you know, the writer, he told you what he was writing, because you asked him, it sounded like, “Bell and “Toll”, whatever, that means.
(The two bellboys look at one another; both take a drink of their beers, the 1st Bellboy looks confused, the other one impressed.)
1st Bellboy—Holy Hemingway, what do you say, to that.
(He raises his eyebrows, looks at his pal, and then the bartender.)
2nd Bellboy—The big man talked to you, haw, and you didn’t tell me!”
1st Bellboy—Oh, I can’t remember, we both must have been drunk.
2nd Bellboy—Maybe he’ll come out of his tomb tonight and drink with us peasants.
1st Bellboy—He don’t like Cubans, he only likes writing about us, that’s his game.
2nd Bellboy—Show me a guy that doesn’t have a game in motion.
1st Bellboy—I got it, “For Whom the Toad Bellows,” that’s his new book, ask Manual, he’ll tell yaw.
Cuban Bartender—I tell you both once and for all, I don’t know, but I guess it’s something like that, “Bell a Toll,” something like that in the title or maybe “The Bell Toll” not sure what toll means though.
2nd Bellboy—I think when he gets drunk he likes to brag his work up a little…or maybe a lot!
1st Bellboy—I like the book “Women that can’t find Men” that one was pretty good.
Bartender—You got the name wrong, it’s “Men Don’t need Women.”
2nd Bellboy—I don’t think he’d write something like that, and who cares what he’s writing anyhow, my head hurts.
Bartender—I’m one who really don’t care, just change the subject.
1st Bellboy—I was surprised he even talked to me last night.
Bartender— Don’t be too surprised, he was even talking to the dog, the floor and some ghosts, new ones from Madrid.
2nd Bellboy—Maybe I’ll be lucky tonight and he’ll come down out of that room of his and talk to me.
1st Bellboy—What became of his women?
2nd Bellboy—They faded out when he got married. Actually some of them got tired of his moods; he got married didn’t he?
Bartender—The men stick around him all right, it’s just the women get tired of his mouth, and ways.
1st Bellboy—You’ll get into trouble talking that way.
Bartender—Boys it’s getting late, got to close up here soon, so drink up, and well finish this discussion tomorrow.
2nd Bellboy—Why do we keep coming here, this beer just makes me pee, my head hurt, go to sleep wakeup and pee some more…and
1st Bellboy—and nothing, now look over there, the fat one leaning over and talking to the dog, I think that’s…
Bartender—I think you both had one too many that’s an old woman with a white beard. Goodnight now!
(Manual looks a little worried at the gentleman who is walking over to him, he doesn’t have a beard, nor is he fat, he’s just hairy on the forearms, drunk as a skunk, and asks):
“Which way’s the door, I’m going to La Bodeguita del Medio!”
2—11—2009 (written under the sun, on top of my roof in Lima, Peru)
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