own special way, that her wayward ways would be punished, and she ended up losing her rented apartment very quickly. While Dusha was still a theoretically diligent student in Ljubljana, her offended father had silently accepted the gall of her decision to leave home, putting up a good façade when the neighbours inquired, claiming that he was proud of her, supported her. ‘A student needs complete peace and must be close to the faculty,’ Chief Podlogar would say, projecting confidence in his deliberation on the immutable laws of student life, which were utterly unknown to him. Those he spoke with, however, knew even less than he did. In order to avoid admitting that Dusha had escaped his parental control, Dushan Podlogar convinced himself and the neighbours that her departure was all part of his master plan. But Chief Podlogar’s house of cards began to collapse the night that Lieutenant Borojević summoned up his courage, after a whole evening of preparation, and requested the band on the hotel terrace to sing ‘Hey Hey Hey We’re Not Going Home Yet,’ (the only Slovenian song in their repertoire) so that he could grab a dance with the beautiful Slovenian tourist. It was not long after this that Chief Podlogar lost faith in his own lie. As a last grasp, he tried to reel his head over heels daughter home as soon as possible, and set her up with a ‘dream’ job at the local leather plant, which was certainly a form of punishment as far as she was concerned.