The Romanian language for other people.
Motto: There's a 0.1 BTC prize for the first complete translation to English
of the Romanian text (87 words plus one letter)
along with an explanation of its entire subtext.
A young tigress is waiting in line at the bus station. Up on her high heels, eyes flashing blue far above the calvitious heads in the crowd, she appears somewhat out of place. A man passes the queue and in passing notices her. He's a good decade her senior, but well dressed and with a particular expression of disdain imprinted on his face. His eyes have a distinct glimmer that'd seem to suggest he's secretly laughing at anyone in front of them and everyone in general. Nevertheless, he turns around, and for a moment they face each other.
- Pisi, stai o tura ? he inquires with affable familiarity.
- Unde ?
- Am un loc aici, aproape.
- Haida.
He walks away, and she breaks out of the line and follows him. A couple of blocks up they turn into a hallway, and go inside. Some ottomans and low tables, a man behind a sort of a desk, a receptionist, a doorman maybe. His posture tightens as the two pass by his desk, but it's barely perceptible.
Up in a room on the second floor the two fuck for a while.
As he's putting his shirt back on, he turns to ask her, his bemusing expression a few accents stronger
- Cum stai cu banii ?
- Prost.
Her response is dry, plain, with no further indication. He fishes a roll out of his pocket, takes two bills off the top and places them on the armoire next to him. She blows him a burlesque kiss. He finishes dressing and leaves. She collects herself lazily, spends a while nude in the bathroom, eventually emerges. She dresses, watching herself in the mirror as she does it as if watching a stranger. Eventually she picks up the two bills, sticks them in her purse, takes out a stack of post-its, affixes one to the wooden surface and starts to write. She puts down her initial but stops suddenly, and doesn't continue. Instead, on a new line, she jots a string of numbers and with that she's out the door.
* * *
Phone ringing, close to a bed in which a pile of blond curls rests in disarray. A hand emerges from under the blanket and sucks the helpless receiver deep, deep under the downy depths.
- Hello, says the voice at the other end, a very professional young man. I am Mr ...'s assistant.
- Aham...
- Are you the lady that participated Monday morning at the event on Republicii 128b ?
- Yeah...
- Mr. ... would request the pleasure of your company at the Conference to be held tomorrow, Thursday the 16th, 5pm, in the Crystal Hall at the Intercontinental. This is a no press event, please do not break the embargo.
- Aha.
- Shall I confirm you then ?
- Alright.
- Do you need directions ?
- No.
- Okay, thank you very much.
And with that, the line clicks.
* * *
The gaze of the same man meets the gaze of the same woman in the lobby of the town's most pretentious hotel. He's with a bunch of people, but he leaves them and approaches her.
- Ma tii ? Her question is flat, neutral. He smiles warmly and nods.
- Unde ?
- Pai iti gasim ceva.
- Bine, da' mai spre Kogalniceanu asa.
- Mergi la scoala ?
- Da.
- Pentru ce ?
- Pentru ca sa sug pula de cetateni respectabili luata din drum.
- Bun, da' teoretic vorbind.
- Nu, ca rizi.
- De tine mai greu.
She's visibly flattered by the retort, she looks down coyly and then flashes at him.
- Afaceri.
He laughs heartily. She frowns. He smiles at her again.
- Bine pisi. Mergi pina la baie si-asteapta-m-acolo.
- La fete sau la baieti ?
- Pai dupa cum simti tu.
She ponders this a moment, but eventually
- Da' nu e clar.
- Ambiguitatea inseamna ca nu conteaza.
- A.
She stands up and heads towards the restrooms. He sits back in the chair and watches her go.
Monday, 8 December 2014
A young tigress is waiting in line at the bus station. Up on her high heels, eyes flashing blue far above the calvitious heads in the crowd, she appears somewhat out of place. A man passes the queue and in passing notices her. He's a good decade her senior, but well dressed and with a particular expression of disdain imprinted on his face. His eyes have a distinct glimmer that'd seem to suggest he's secretly laughing at anyone in front of them and everyone in general. Nevertheless, he turns around, and for a moment they face each other.
- Doll, want a ride? he inquires with affable familiarity.
- Where?
- I have a place here, nearby.
- Let's go.
He walks away, and she breaks out of the line and follows him. A couple of blocks up they turn into a hallway, and go inside. Some ottomans and low tables, a man behind a sort of a desk, a receptionist, a doorman maybe. His posture tightens as the two pass by his desk, but it's barely perceptible.
Up in a room on the second floor the two fuck for a while.
As he's putting his shirt back on, he turns to ask her, his bemusing expression a few accents stronger
- Do you have any money ?
- No.
Her response is dry, plain, with no further indication. He fishes a roll out of his pocket, takes two bills off the top and places them on the armoire next to him. She blows him a burlesque kiss. He finishes dressing and leaves. She collects herself lazily, spends a while nude in the bathroom, eventually emerges. She dresses, watching herself in the mirror as she does it as if watching a stranger. Eventually she picks up the two bills, sticks them in her purse, takes out a stack of post-its, affixes one to the wooden surface and starts to write. She puts down her initial but stops suddenly, and doesn't continue. Instead, on a new line, she jots a string of numbers and with that she's out the door.
* * *
Phone ringing, close to a bed in which a pile of blond curls rests in disarray. A hand emerges from under the blanket and sucks the helpless receiver deep, deep under the downy depths.
- Hello, says the voice at the other end, a very professional young man. I am Mr ...'s assistant.
- Aham...
- Are you the lady that participated Monday morning at the event on Republicii 128b ?
- Yeah...
- Mr. ... would request the pleasure of your company at the Conference to be held tomorrow, Thursday the 16th, 5pm, in the Crystal Hall at the Intercontinental. This is a no press event, please do not break the embargo.
- Aha.
- Shall I confirm you then ?
- Alright.
- Do you need directions ?
- No.
- Okay, thank you very much.
And with that, the line clicks.
* * *
The gaze of the same man meets the gaze of the same woman in the lobby of the town's most pretentious hotel. He's with a bunch of people, but he leaves them and approaches her.
- Will you keep me? Her question is flat, neutral. He smiles warmly and nods.
- Where ?
- We can find something.
- Alright, but somewhere near Kogalniceanu.
- You go to school?
- Yes.
- For what?
- To suck the dicks of respectable citizens that give me a ride.
- Good, but theoretically speaking.
- No, you'll laugh.
- At you? Hardly.
She's visibly flattered by the retort, she looks down coyly and then flashes at him.
- Business.
He laughs heartily. She frowns. He smiles at her again.
- Alright doll. Go to the restroom and wait for me there.
- Women's or men's?
- It depends on how you feel.
She ponders this a moment, but eventually
- Well, that's not clear enough.
- The ambiguity means it doesn't matter.
- A.
She stands up and heads towards the restrooms. He sits back in the chair and watches her go.
--
A powerful man develops a young woman as a companion and endeavors to make this known to others.
Monday, 8 December 2014
Well... but look at it! "Want a ride ?"/"Where ?" what sense does this make. He should be asking her where if a ride's contemplated.
Tuesday, 9 December 2014
A word for word translation would be "Stay a turn ?" /"Where ?" I couldn't find references to it, and I don't think it's a common expression.
Tuesday, 9 December 2014
It's common enough, just, vernacular.
English vernacular isn't nearly as rich, perhaps the closest equivalent being "Go for a roll [in the hay] ?"
The money line ain't right, either. And pisi ain't doll.
Wednesday, 10 December 2014
The money line would be more like, "How are your finances?" / "Bad". Pisi is "kitten".
Wednesday, 10 December 2014
"How are you fixed for money", yeah.
Also "luata din drum" isn't "give me a ride". Obviously, since it's not a ride they're talking.
Thursday, 11 December 2014
"Picked up" would be the best approximation. Word-for-word translation would be "taken from the street".
So, I suppose, "To suck the dicks of respectable citizens that pick me up".
Thursday, 11 December 2014
Alrighty. With the note that "ma tii", ie, will you keep me comes off the same root that yielded tiitoare, ie, kept woman in Romanian, I'ma call your work here good.
Post addy ?
Thursday, 11 December 2014
But what about the subtext!? Was mats's guess correct (how could it be as there is nothing about 'developing' said pisi)?
Also, doesn't Prost translate to something closer to "goose", "moron" or in this context ~"fool, do you really need to ask?". IMO this "fits" as the gal in question wouldn't be "stai o tura cu străini"[1] at the bus station unless she needed it.[2]
[1] Our protagonist's affable familiarity isn't with this young pisi, but rather with the implementation details of getting them to "stai o tura".
[2] I don't know how common it is for financially stable women to prostitute themselves at the bus sation out of sheer boredom or w/e - I'm currently laboring under the assumption that this is a rare occurrence.
Thursday, 11 December 2014
Prost just means "poorly", "weakly", it works to describe slow witted in Romanian just like "feeble" would in English. Its actual historical meaning is "mean" in a sense that meanwhile died in English ("of mean extraction" simply means low class, poor). But in any case the exchange is idiomatic, "how are you fixed for cash / poorly", cum stai cu banii / prost.
I dun think much prostitution occured here if at all. If all women that take what's offered were prostitutes there'd be a serious shortage of any other category after all. It's silly anyway, what, if I offer you a drink and you take me up on it you're now a what, a moocher ? An alcoholic ? Nonsense.
What happens between the two flows from exactly your original intuition in [1]. Thinking of life as if it were a game of Bridge (which it exactly is), she's bidding 1NT "out of place in teh bus queue", signalling either a very strong natural hand or else insanity. He responds with 2NT "total vulgarity", signalling either ANOTHER very strong natural hand or else... more insanity. She responsd as is proper 3NT, which is a game. They make the game but then he takes it to 6NT and they end up playing a grand slam without trumps while everyone's reading their newspapers. Because guess what, between the two of them they had a full suit of hearts plus all the diamonds, and then who needs clubs or the spaded anymore.
There is abundantly enough about developing said kitten, in the "X means Y" "A" exchange. He's helping her sharpen her edge.
As you can see, the subtext is user driven.
Sunday, 14 December 2014
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Wednesday, 7 April 2021
Digging for this article I managed to find... its exact antibaryonic equivalent, from back in 2009.