Bodor Ferenc: Coffee-Houses - Our Budapest (Budapest, 1992)
Tik-tak The Tik-tak has been ticking away at the corner of Böszörményi út and Hollósy Simon utca for years now. It wall-clock is one of the prettiest neon signs in the city. One could almost believe that the yellow pendulum swings to and fro, just like in a real wall-clock. Unfortunately it does not. In this little café silverhaired, elegant ladies used to serve coffee and cognac. The refined gentlefolk in the vicinity used to drop in — like Mr Miklós, who would come over from his greasy spoon for a nap after lunch. A piano once stood on a platform in the back and lamps with parchment shades shed the diffused light typical of the best Pál Jávor films. On the wall facing the bar counter there were photographs with inscriptions like New Year’s Eve in the Tik-Tak, 1958— all now of historical value. In the photos men in leather jackets and wedge-heel shoes and ladies in furs smiled in dubious consolidation. The café later changed hands through competitive bidding. The counter and the customers were replaced, stereo buzz assailed ears. The On- edin line ran in endless blue-grey on the TV screen. The Tik-Tak stayed open well into the night and was popular among the young. Today, the tenants have grown tired of the noise and the owners have had it sound-proofed — in vain. The Tik-tak may be closed down soon, its spring, wound up so many years ago, will be stilled, its ticking deadened by the din of the city. 17/C BÖSZÖRMÉNYI ÚT, XII. The ticking TIK-TAK 48
