She left, and in her place I would break into a sweeping dance • (which is completely not what you think) • Yitzhak Toitou

She abandoned him.

Meeting a childhood friend is always a happy thing, even more so when it happens after a long time. That's usually how things are when routine is going on in its leisurely way and the world is going as usual. But this was not the case for which my friend initiated the meeting, and the world was out of its way. He poured out his heart in the phone conversation and stirred up the veins of my soul filled with sadness, and since sorrow is the father of all failures, I was already sorry that I was sorry.

We were sitting in one of the colorful cafes in the Turkish Market area. I admit that's how I like them – colorful, because I have good coffee at home. But the reason for our meeting wasn't particularly colorful. At least not from my friend's perspective. I'll explain. Things between us are never simple, and that was the case with one of my childhood friends who was currently sitting across from me over a steaming cup of coffee.

The guy was so depressed that the cup of coffee in front of him was affected by it and looked faded and lifeless. That's probably what happens when your partner abandons you, and he was abandoned. Feeling - tar. In fact, since I also knew the abandoner, I think he would have done the right thing if he had raised a glass and gone out in a happy dance, but you can't argue with facts. He's here and he looks distracted, lost and confused as if they had just announced on the news that Nasrallah was not killed in the bombing but was only wounded, escaped Lebanon and submitted a request for conversion to the Rabbinate via courier. Not by phone, not by pager. A courier. A matter of life experience.

The special dish

"Listen," I said, "there are always unexpected things, it's okay, everything will work out in the end." Even to myself I sounded corny and clichéd to the point of nausea, yes, yes, but that's the most I could babble right now in order to lift his spirits a little, and besides, I was aiming for something. He raised his eyes, which until that moment had been staring at the faded cup of coffee. "What, what did you say?"
"I said something unexpected always pops up."
"Yes?"
"Yes. Want an example?"
He shrugged nonchalantly.
"No, no, it doesn't work like that, you have to be focused." I said.
"Well, okay." The faded one muttered.
"It happened in Spain in a small, modest restaurant whose location was compelling. It was located fifty kilometers away
meters from the arena of the bullfighting stadium. What happens there is that the matador, using his red cape, provokes the fearsome bull to charge at him and gore him, then at the last second the matador manages to dodge, and the whole thing repeats itself over and over again until the last time he stabs the poor bull with a sword and kills him to the cheers of the Spanish crowd, who, with all due respect, I didn't understand what the joy was about, but that's not the point.

Think about how every few days a bull is killed and its meat and organs are sold to nearby restaurants, and the restaurant I'm talking about
Desert specialized in bull eggs. The location is mandatory.

Hey, that's not my dish.

And in that same place there was a guy who always came to the modest restaurant after the fight and ordered his regular dish.
And his favorite – bull eggs. A respectable dish that filled the entire large plate. One time, surprisingly, he was served a small dish on his plate. Very small compared to his regular portion. The guy turned to the waiter, pointed to the plate and asked. "What is this?"
The waiter shrugged and blurted out, "Today the matador lost."
After a moment of digestion, my friend burst into laughter, "Something unexpected can always come up, huh?" he said with a smile, and suddenly the cup of coffee in front of him came back to life. The goal was achieved and now the nerves in my gut had made a U-turn, and since joy is the father of success, I was already happy that I was happy.