Hollywood on the Danube

Chapter Four

Billy asked the concierge to call him a cab -- his first taxi solo, as he went to meet Frieda and Csaba to check out his new digs. He showed the driver his City Taxi ID and studio issued coupon payment book, and watched him flip the dial to five, signaling the corporate bargain rate. Then, after discerning the man spoke no English, he handed him a file card on which Csaba had written the address. 

As they drove across town Billy looked around and took note. The city was bustling and the sun was shining on a beautiful Budapest day. He smiled, watching pretty women hurrying down the street. He'd never been to Europe in the summer before, preferring spring and fall when the crowds were less crowded, the temperature more temperate and the TV season wasn't in swing. 

The driver stopped at a building where Frieda and Csaba were waiting with Eszter, the real estate agent who escorted them inside. Billy didn't mind that the structure was old but was disappointed it looked so shabby, as they climbed one flight of stairs and paused to knock at apartment 5A. 

"Odd," Billy said. "5A on the first floor?" Frieda threw him a look. "I didn't mean anything bad," he said. Then the door opened and Gabi and Tomas, the fortyish owners ushered them in. 

"This is great," Billy said, walking into a polished vestibule, with guest toilet and sink on the left and a handsome oak clothes tree on the right. The entryway led into a large kitchen/dining combination, which had a small bedroom and laundry room on the left and a good-sized living room on the right. Oddly, off the kitchen was a huge modern bathroom, with two sinks and bidet, accompanying shower, separate bath and toilet. It was obvious the place had recently been renovated, as few lived that well in the communist era. 

The couple fixed up the apartment only six months before, then decided the romance was over and would soon go their separate ways. They were anxious to please the important foreigner from America and proudly showed him the bright, airy master bedroom, with a walk-in closet and long balcony. There was a third bedroom, too. Billy found it hard to believe. It was more than he needed, which he certainly didn't say. 

The furniture was adequate and Billy haggled with the owners, only the husband spoke English, about which appliances to leave in the kitchen. Did he need a toaster? "Of course," he said. He was disappointed there was only an espresso machine, but he dared not give it up. 

While Frieda and Csaba sat smoking in the living room, she eyed Billy and waited in vain for him to return her cuddly glance. But he was too busy negotiating for an armchair in his bedroom. Then as Frieda glanced at her watch and Csaba watched CNN, Eszter assured Billy they were buying a new washer. 

"And what about a dryer?" he asked. 

"A dryer?" Eszter said. 

"A dryer?" Tomas said. 

A dryer seemed to be just a trifle unique, and though the owners wanted him to be happy, there isn't a doubt it concerned them. 

"Maybe a washer/dryer combination," Billy said, trying to be helpful. "They're small and not expensive." 

The couple looked at each other, then turned to Eszter, and, perhaps, due to her gaze, they looked back at each other and docilely started to nod. 

And then an impatient Frieda, who was growing tired of staring at Billy's butt, got up from her chair to hurry them along, and when she heard what he wanted she vetoed it fast. "You don't need a dryer. I don't have a dryer. Nobody has a dryer. Are we finished here? Let's go." 

Billy shrugged and smiled to the others, shaking hands with the relieved owners, then followed Frieda and Csaba, who had gone out the door. When he got to the car she grinned, her personality suddenly changed, as she flirtatiously asked, "So how did you like it?"