WATERFALL MAGAZINE / 瀑布雜誌

我和你從來沒有約在這裡見過面。還是有過一、兩次？我忘了。記憶太不可靠，偶爾在等待紅綠燈的那數十秒鐘會忽然忘記你的面孔。你會原諒我嗎？還是在你那一端的記憶，某個類似我的身影已經悄悄地在乾燥的梅雨季裡蒸發？

你知道嗎，溫州街的午後如果下大雨，很適合聽Radiohead的Creep噢。

我已經想不起來過了多久。坐在吧台，會抽幾根菸，小說旁邊有一杯熱拿鐵（夏天的話就會是冰的），身旁的人可能是認識的也可能不是，但通常不會交談太多。玻璃門被推開時的嘎吱聲總令人側目，但始終不是你。坐在吧台可以看到窗外的所有風景。這附近有幾隻野貓，會在對面民宅的屋簷上頭翻滾、趴身，有時會散步到窗邊，和我相望幾秒鐘，然後，再回到屋簷上。窄小的溫州街太多車子和人群，無論什麼時間都是如此，我不喜歡（我想你一定也不喜歡），所以我關在這裡，聽著進入副歌前那鏗鏘作響的吉他刷弦。你不會來。

站到吧台裡頭之後看到的風景不一樣。我比較常和切．格瓦拉相望，比較需要開口和客人說話，比較少走到窗邊。然後時光流呀流，停留在腐朽記憶裡的人事物在腦袋外頭也不知道被沖到哪裡去了。我沒有多餘的記憶體去儲存每個季節的感傷，我必須開始記得上班的日子、記得所有menu上的價錢、記得每個熟客的習慣、記得三明治的最快速做法、記得哪幾天要資源回收、記得打出綿密奶泡的方式，但我仍記得要自己記得你，即使你早就忘了哪天跟我約在這裡喝一杯咖啡。

發生過的事情好像北方極冬裡的大雪，將整片森林覆蓋，我們連輪廓都無法描繪出來；等到你帶著救難隊，在下一個季節來這裡開挖這層記憶的凍土，我的奶泡卻還是打得不夠好。

Radiohead的專輯老早就不知道跑哪去了。

大片的窗戶上頭堆積了層層黃灰的菸污。木頭夾層地板已經下陷了好幾處。燈泡的亮度逐漸降低，大家都想搶有檯燈的座位。斷掉的電話線頭早就不構成困擾了。（啊，昨天上班的時候把掃把頭弄斷了。）吧台的桌面傷痕累累。王爾德和巴特的顏色越褪越淺，如果不理會，他們或許會約好在某天晚上一起離開。阿寬說東西用久了本來就會壞，反正結束那天想拿的人就拿走，留著也不知道幹嘛。

那麼，這段時間究竟過了多久？我竟然記不太起來；我們，到底有沒有一起來過呢？所有記憶都跟我的奶泡一樣不綿密，這實在有點好笑。

我恨透了今年溫州街燥熱的梅雨季，你一定也是吧。

編按：
挪威森林為溫州街上的老字號咖啡店，是文藝青年無論今昔都偏愛流連的所在，老闆阿寬決定於今年（2007年）六月結束挪威森林的經營。

Norwegian Woods

I’ve never dated with you here. Or we had once? Twice? I couldn’t remember. We shouldn’t count on our memories. Sometimes I couldn’t recall your face while I was waiting for the red light. Will you forgive me? Or, someone like me has already disappeared in your memory. Quietly. In the season of plum rains.

If there’s a heavy rain in the afternoon on WHENCHOU Street then it would a prefect timing for listening CREEP by RADIOHEAD. Did you know that?

I couldn’t tell how long it’s been. Sat beside the bar, having some cigarettes, a hot latte next to a novel. (It’s iced if it’s summer.) You might know people sat around you or not. Not much talks. The door creaked while someone entered but you would never be the one. Seats beside the bar had all the view outside the window. Sometimes there’s a few cats nearby, they tumbled, they lied on the roofs. Sometimes they took a walk to the window, watching me, then turned back to the roofs. There’s always crowded with cars and passengers on WHENCHOU Street, I don’t like it. (Neither do you, I guess.) So I was sitting here, listening to the guitar before the song went to the chorus. You wouldn’t come.

It’s a different view from standing behind the bar. CHE and I often stared at each other. I need to talk with customers. I seldom close to the window. Time flows. Things remained in the decayed memories had been washed away to nowhere. I had no spare mind to regret for every season. I had to notice which date I come to work, memorizing every price on the menu. I had to remember habits of people who come often, to remember the fast way to make sandwiches, to remember the way to make foamed milk on coffee. Above all, I still saved a space of my mind for you. I could still remember you, although you already forgot you should meet me here.

Things in the past like the serious snow in the winter of North, it covered all the woods, that no one could tell what it was like. When you come with the rescue team, digging this frozen earth of the memory the next season. My foamed milk wouldn’t be better.

I’ve lost my RADIOHEAD long time ago.

It collected thick dust of smoke on the window. There’s a few hole on the wooden floor. The lamp was darker. Everybody wants the seat with a lamp. It doesn’t matter if the wire stuck outside on the floor. (Oh, I broke the head of the broom yesterday at work.) There were scars all over the tables. Colors on the portraits of BARTHES and WILDE faded away. Maybe they’ll leave together one night if we ignore them. A-KUAN said that things broke after all. On the closing day, who wants them could take them away; he knows nothing else he can do with them.

So, how long did it take? Actually, I couldn’t remember: did we come here together or not? All these memories couldn’t be gripped like my foamed milk. It’s tricky.

I really hated the season of plum rains this year. It’s humid and hot walking on the street. And I guess you would have the same feeling like I did.

Editor’s note:
Norwegian Woods is an old but famous café on WHENCHOU Street, Taipei. From now to the past: artists, theatre directors, filmmakers, rockers and the youth all come here to talk about art, philosophy, music, literature and life. The owner A-KUAN decided to close the café in June 2007.