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Charles Pépin
kilometersandIdiscover, from
a detour in the conversation,
that Ange is working for a
food bank. He delivers boxes
of food to the homeless. “It’s
to build up my muscle, he
says justifying himself, it’s
like a second sport. Did you
know there are not a lot of
homeless Jews?” The toll gate
opens automatically once
we approach, it’s a pleasure
which never bores me, right
after I push on the gas pedal
saying to myself that things
are going well and that I
would be there on time.
We get to the Enigma Parking
and suddenly Ange asks me:
“Is that where the trouble
with those fucking Arabs
started?”
There are only five or six cars
in the lot. I see the people
waiting for me by a long
line of parked cars near the
nightclub, my client and his
executives from La Défense.
I park nearby. While Ange
is getting out of the car, I
feel as if my bodyguard is
accompanying me. I always
appreciated these sorts of
disagreements: I love beach
resorts in the off-season,
places used at night in the
daytime, the beaches in
Van during the winter. A
plane flies by very low in the
process of landing, we can
see its belly. To be alone and
peaceful in the parking lot,
knowing it is filled with the
night, I feel a strange sort of
calm, of privilege.
In the nightclub, the entire
space is ours, quiet and lit
up. We progress through the
different rooms up to the top
level, in which the roof will
open to the sky for the finale
of the event. My client thanks
me for making the trip, he
really appreciates that I see
the project the whole way
through, that I don’t content