Calle Collin was sitting opposite an old actor, at a centrally positioned window table in an upmarket restaurant chosen by the actor. The other guests belonged to the same generation as the actor and glanced over at him discreetly. Two parties had passed the table on their way out and thanked the actor for many pleasurable moments and a lot of laughs. The actor had accepted these pats on the back with false modesty and great delight. The reason that Calle Collin found it difficult to hear what the actor said was not that he spoke unclearly, but rather that he was so uninteresting. ‘I … success … anecdote … pause for laughter … public record … troubled childhood … not so easy to succeed … all the same I … modest … I always doubt … I constantly fight … I … the main thing … I interpret … I get to the heart of the character … I … empty phrases … I.’ Calle Collin nodded attentively and wrote down key words. He felt melancholy. The actor wasn’t a bad person, he was self-centred because he lacked self-confidence and therefore had an unquenchable need for confirmation.
