THE HCC DAYS 1988 - AN EMOTIONAL VISION
Or: A malignantly close encounter with a Greek Goddess
by Stefan Posthuma and Richard Karsmakers
A tale about two innocent (?) computerfreaks on their quest for
some Great Food after the Hobby Computer Club Days 1988, on the
evening of Saturday, November 26th, 1988. And the story of what
they found together with that Food.
The HCC days 1988 were quite interesting but not interesting
enough not to be dull. Although they made an attempt to find it
interesting quite seriously, they could not succeed in finding it
anything else rather than dull. Sorry, folks. If you're looking
for an essay of the quality of the offered products and/or
services here, some disappointment is bound to hit you. If you're
not, it won't.
So they threw all their interest (plenty of it) upon a certain
waitress in a certain Restaurant in the adjacent town centre.
This was in fact pretty simple: As fate would have it, She turned
out to be quite brainnumbingly brilliant.
No. Don't worry. This is not going to be one of those Douglas
Adamsish articles!
For some hours now, but one name lingered simultaneously through
their minds; a name that sounded like air brushing through the
leaves of silent trees on an autumn afternoon, a name that
embodied everything Love stands for, a name that in fact turned
out to be based upon an ancient language's translation for "I
love you".
This is Her story. A story of Love, Food, Sweaty Hands,
Deafening Cries, Very Red Faces, Pounding Hearts and a Red Rose.
It starts here.
After the HCC days, they decided they had to visit a Greek
restaurant called "Zorba the Greek" that the STRIKE-a-LIGHT crew
had honoured with a visit one day earlier. Frank and Tako-Jan had
talked about some gorgeous waitress the whole day, and they
considered that reason enough to favour a visit to that
restaurant above one to the local junk-food centre (where they
would probably merely have stuffed themselves with fattening
pieces of rectangular fried potato with lots of even more
fattening mayo on it).
As they entered the restaurant and their thunderstruck eyes fell
on the girl waiting upon them, it suddenly happened.....
Small droplets of salty water started extracting themselves from
the palms of their trembling hands and the muscles of their eyes
underwent excercises never before experienced in a desperate
attempt to follow each and every movement of each and every
particle of Her body and the lucky air atoms encircling it whilst
not daring to move their heads in Her direction.
It was as if Venus Herself had chosen to return to this Earth.
They froze and Her smile rendered them totally helpless. Slightly
drooling from miscellaneous parts of their oral cavities, they
followed Her to their table after which She disappeared in a
cloud of loveliness.
They looked at each other and noticed eyes that saw nothing,
that could no longer accomodate themselves to proper distances
and that were altogether quite dumbfounded with the purest
astounding amazement imaginable.
Moments later She returned holding two little glasses.
As they looked into Her eyes as She put the glasses on the
table, it was if they witnessed the Answer to Everything. As She
again left, they spent minutes staring at the fingerprints She
left behind on the glasses. Slowly, with trembling hands, they
took their first careful sips. It was like the first gasp of
oxygen a baby takes after being gently removed from his mothers'
womb and put on the mysterious green-and-blue planet we call
Earth.
"Gosh...." was all Stefan could utter at the moment.
Richard acted as if stricken by lightning and did not even
attempt to move his lips to say anything.
Whenever She would pass by, or even become slightly visible,
conversation would stop abruptly, words would hang feebly in the
air before they would fall helplessly to the ground. Silence
would then strike their table and their minds would be deafened
by thoughts of utmost delight and pleasure.
When taking their orders some minutes later, Her eyes once more
met theirs. The only thing to strike them was the imperceptible
similitude between these deep wells of serenity and a Total
Perspective Vortex the likes of which had never earlier been seen
ever by them or by anyone in or beyond the infinite reaches of
our Universe.
"If there's a God, this must be the most perfect specimen of His
creation obtainable," they both thought as it struck them that
She talked friendly, with no sign of contempt or conceit
whatsoever, speaking to mere mortals like them. Her voice sounded
like golden bells tingling through the humid meadows of some far
and distant country captured in some old and forgotten dream.
Their heads were so busy processing all their sense's
impressions that they forgot to keep their mouths closed, felt
their knees weaken and felt altogether much like a honey jar with
no jar.
Richard had never known he had that many ribs until he felt his
heart pounding against each one of them.
Watching Her walk away from their table to fetch the ordered
food (Keftedes and the "Zorba Dish"), we witnessed the Perfect
Movement. Her body moved to and fro as a tender butterfly in an
april-morning breeze, parading Her physics as the topotype
example of harmony in its utmost perfection. It was as if a
sudden void was drawn behind Her; a vacuum in which everything
and everybody seemed to fade away into mere oblivion, where
nothing would be able to survive next to Her beauty as She melted
away in the pink mists of sensuality.
It was as though the whole principle of locomotion was just
invented for Her to be able to walk like She did, making every
other movement, even the slow unfolding of a daffodil in the
fresh morning sun, seem utterly and grotesquely rude and turgid.
All Stefan could do was sighing a profound wish which had
something to do with reincarnating as a pair of nylons.
Again, Richard acted as if stricken by lightning, not able to
say anything, hear anything, or see anything other than this
girl.
Both guys' minds were taken up by the thought of the beautiful
country of Greece. Was is perhaps worth migrating to that sunny
Mediterraenean country where such beautiful girls roam? Wouldn't
it be beyond perfectionism to walk together with Her along a
beach, with a setting sun in the distance?
Her Body had a shape as though formed by sculptors of old in
their most supreme trial to reproduce whatever they thought to be
Lovely, Lackadaisical, Luscious and Lecherous, the likes of which
would even cast a dark and dismal shadow upon Aphrodite, Goddess
of Love, Herself. Her long fair hair fell around Her shoulders
and back as though it was a Golden ornament to emphasize her
beauty; Her legs were simply gorgeous and really far too
excellently shaped just to function as locomotory devices.
The food was eaten with taste, but their thoughts were with this
beautiful female specimen of mankind rather than the deliciously
prepared meats and sauces the Greek table proudly offered. When
they finally sat back after a while, and started to relax a bit
after the wonderfully superb meal they had just devoured, the
girl came back, once again putting a halt to whatever
conversation was taking place, and filling both their minds with
the earlier mentioned thoughts of utmost delight and pleasure.
They felt they had deserved some Cognac V.S.O.P. now, that would
also help them to think over the next step: What would be Her
name? They just had to find out! They therefore ordered some of
it, while carefully contemplating about how to ask Her.
Just when they were about to leave, She was cleaning a table
behind them and She touched Stefan; a tremble sped down his
spinal chord and sent him shivering with romance.
Then, in an outburst of feelings, he managed to speak.
"What is your name?" he asked with an unstable voice.
"Agapi" She replied, speaking these mere words with almost
divine resonance. It was as though words took fantastic shapes
when She spoke them; one could almost smell the words, scenting
like roses and ripening heather, and feel them like a gentle
caress. The whole idea of speech was taken to unsuspected
heights, as this girl added fourth and even fifth dimensions to
everything connected with this simple means of communication.
Being somewhat shaken by that unusual reply, Stefan repeated his
question, this time with a sudden resolution in his voice.
"Er...you know, we are making a magazine......", Richard
interrupted, hesitating.
They told Her everything She needed to know about their
magazine, ST NEWS, and the fact that they were impressed to such
an extend by the food, but more particularly Her service, that
they felt obliged to dedicate their magazine to Her. They both
blushed heavily, and each word they spoke was struggling to come
out. She seemed enormously flattered by this gesture, and a smile
of smiles was seen by the two freaks that nearly fainted at the
sight of it.
Finally, they subjugated all their power of will to offer Her a
Red Rose; the most highly wrought likeness of Her beauty, Her
adorable fragility and Her epic vivacity possibly conceivable.
An even more lovely smile than ever seen before by the human eye
dawned slowly upon Her moist lips; tiny diamonds could be seen
glittering brazenly in Her eyes before She cast them down,
blushing.
When they left the restaurant, all they could manage to do was
simply being overwhelmed by joy, spontaneously crying deafening
cries of emotion, jumping in the air with incredible vigour, and
generally being highly in love: Love that had suddenly divulged
from the very depths of their inner selves much in the way like
volcanic magma divulged from the Krakatau over a century back.
This had been one of the nicest HCC days ever!
Some notes of the authors:
1) You might wonder where the Red Rose came from. Well, a local
resident just happened to hop in at the right time, offering to
sell Red Roses to just about everyone present in the Restaurant.
We bought one.
2) You might also wonder why we can never keep our attention to
one girl for a long time. Well, we were surely love-stricken to
an extend never before experienced, but it had already completely
worn off the next morning. Since we had promised Agapi to
dedicate this ST NEWS to Her, we still did so. And not a word of
which is said is exaggerated, we can assure you, so we still
think She quite rightly deserves it. We think the extend of our
poetic inspiration tells you enough about Her beauty and the way
She moves.
Think of this article as an exercise in self-indulgence with
regard to being poetic.
3) If you ever want to eat REALLY well, and if you want to look
at Agapi 'in the flesh', please feel free to visit the
Restaurant. Its address:
Zorba the Greek
Voorstraat 61
3512 AC Utrecht
The Netherlands
If you want to make sure Agapi is there to wait upon you, just
visit it on Saturdays or Sundays. That's when She works there.
Business lunches can be held there, too (that is, if you are not
afraid of spending an awful lot of money because it really isn't
cheap...).
�
Disclaimer
The text of the articles is identical to the originals like they appeared
in old ST NEWS issues. Please take into consideration that the author(s)
was (were) a lot younger and less responsible back then. So bad jokes,
bad English, youthful arrogance, insults, bravura, over-crediting and
tastelessness should be taken with at least a grain of salt. Any contact
and/or payment information, as well as deadlines/release dates of any
kind should be regarded as outdated. Due to the fact that these pages are
not actually contained in an Atari executable here, references to scroll
texts, featured demo screens and hidden articles may also be irrelevant.