Alfred, my father

The phone rang it was Alfred, the man most likely to be my father if he confessed the relationship he had with
Olga, the dancer from Budapest.
It was important to me to find a real father, because the one they said I had was a loser living in a place called Hillevog, in an old German military barrack from the war, called the “second world war” because it included the USA and New Zealand.
When Alfred rang I was practicing dance steps on the living room floor on music from memories
“of all the girls I met before” bitterly romantic and sad
yeah, and deep breathing and stretching too.
Alfred had lost his violin and thought it had been stolen, no
he had not called the law yet, but in the meantime could
I helped him to buy another one, now he called me son!
I offered to buy him a violin, Alfred said that was not a good idea since I don't know about music, but he knew of
a shop where I could get the instrument cheap for about
50.000 euros
ALFRED! I shrieked over down the line, I'm your son
how can you my pathetic need for a father so cruelly?
And slammed the phone down, that's another thing it is no longer possible to “slam” the phone to register one displeasure.
Alfred rang back he had found the violin forgotten in a bar, we were friends again, he had called me “son”