Mister Vacca – Aggression


Translated by Emilia Maiella 


Vacca: - Can you please make the kid shut up? I have to work and my head aches…

Man in the line: - I’m sorry.

Vacca: - You’re sorry but the kid is still messing around…

Man in the line: - You have to be patient with kids…

Vacca: - … and what if I get the counts wrong?

Man in the line: - Whatever, you are right. You don’t have kids, don’t you?

Vacca: - Aside from the fact that I have two little daughters, it’s not your business…

Man in the line: - Oh God, what a prickly man!

Vacca: - That’s because I’m a discreet person.

Man in the line: - Alright. I need four bags.

Vacca: - Why do you need any bag if you have a carriage?

Man in the line: - Does it bother you even to give me some bags?

Vacca: - No it doesn’t, but you make too many weird requests...

Man in the line: - You got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, uh… ?

Vacca: - My private life is none of your business!

Man in the line: - You are amazing: are you serious?

Vacca: - Who?

Man in the line: - No, it’s my fault. I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter.

Vacca: - Mmmh…

Man in the line: - I pay with credit card.

Vacca: - One thing at a time. I already have to make this count, which is long enough, and then we’ll see if it’s possible…

Man in the line: - “We’ll see if it’s possible” my foot. I pay with credit card!

Vacca: - The connection with the bank comes and goes...

Man in the line: - That’s not my problem, I'm warning you I’ll pay with credit card…

Vacca: - Listen, you don’t need to repeat things again and again, I’m not stupid!

Manager: - Vacca, what’s the problem?

Vacca: - There is this guy here who’s threating me and insulting me!

Man in the line: - First thing, I’m not this guy here, try to learn how to manage with customers. Mr. Manager, you cashier is obstructing everything, it bothers him even to give me a bag… and then I didn’t insulted or threaten anybody!

Vacca: - No, you really said I'm WARING you I’ll pay with credit card! Everybody heard it, and then you repeated it many times, like implying I’m someone who doesn’t get a thing!

Manager: - Vacca, stop! Can you please end it? Get back on your work and work off the line. And apologize to the customer!

Vacca: - No, I won’t apologize with anybody. At this point, I refuse to cash his groceries and I’ll go to the toilet.

Manager: - Vacca, if you throw a tantrum again I’ll submit a suspension. I’m fed up with your freak-outs. We can't go on like this!

Vacca: - It's all that kid’s fault, who made a fuss while I was having a headache!

Manager: - What kid, Vacca?

Vacca: - That guy’s son… assuming that he’s actually his son, he doesn’t even look like him!

Man in the line: - Manager, please get him away from me before I rip this fool’s head off!

Vacca: - Have you heard him, manager? He’s insulting and threating me, I don’t know what else to say. It was better if I didn’t leave the bed this morning!

Manager: - I agree with that, Vacca.

Vacca: - Can you see? When you use your brain, you agree with me! It was a real aggression, my dear manager…




  1. Introduction
  2. The queue
  3. Aggression
  4. Horoscope
  5. Selection
  6. Adverbs
  7. Pronunciation
  8. Family
  9. Obsessions
  10. Robbery
  11. Agreements
  12. Meditation
  13. Fashion
  14. Formalities
  15. Prank call
  16. Problems of consciousness
  17. Clarifications
  18. Pause
  19. Special offers
  20. Something in common
  21. Jealousy
  22. Saturn
  23. Illness



Are we really free or are we prisoners of ourselves? Reading the reflections of Omar Mumba, the protagonist of this story, we live recluse in our mental restrictions and we stay this way for much of our existence, learning to move in the narrow spaces of those same bars.
In every type of system, there proliferate contradictions that become traditions to be respected. The society in which we live has applied the norm that says we can be happy, even if the others are not: all you have to do is not to be among those others.
It is a simple equation, basically, yet Omar does not seem to learn. It keeps a singular pastime, if we can call it so: keeping inside a big envelope, all the letters coming from those structures and associations present in forgotten places, where every need is absolute. He reads them continuously, even when he is in the hotel where he works and for this reason, he is mocked by colleagues and superiors. The attitude towards the neighbour in difficulty makes him intransigent, but above all leaves him alone. His days pass between listening to U2 music and household chores, work and a recurrent accusation: who gets his boss’ flat tyre?


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