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Rainy Night In Tokyo
Rainy Night In Tokyo
I stumbled in to Club M next door tonight at 2 AM. The tall blonde bartendress loves me ever since I told her how special she is. On my right a sultry Czech girl, on my left a very hot blonde Hungarian. How’s business, I ask. It doesn’t get good until later. I’m told. When’s later? 3 AM. They all smile furtively when I ask if it gets wild. They say I should crash for a couple of hours when I get off at 1 AM and then come by. I guess I should. Maybe tomorrow. I wish I could have these girls in my club where we could hang out. I'm beginning to sour on Japanese girls I can't talk to.
Elsa behind the bar says suddenly, "I vould never sleep with man who does not shave under arms."
There's a moment of silence.
"And that would be because..."
"Why - it's zo obvious...ecchhh!!"
I thought about it. "Well the straggly hair, yeah, I understand. But what about really curly hair? My great grandfather was African and actually the gene for nappy underarm hair is dominant. My underarms look like they're covered with velcro."
"I don't care, you must shave! Why don't you shave??"
"Well, it's not that easy. I said it looks like velcro. It acts that way too. Half the time I can't raise my arms over my head."
"Zat's crazy, all black man is vunderful basketball player every time."
The Hungarian blonde was smiling. I said, "I know, but something happened to me. I always need help getting stuff off shelves over my head. And I can't swim right. I just go like this..." I waved my forearms around, elbows tight against my waist. The Czech chick (hey - "the Czech chick," "check out the Czech chick" -- say it 5 times fast!) grabbed my arm and lifted it way up. I screamed in pain.
"Now ve're goink to shave you!!" she cried with Slavic joy.
I pulled my arm back, said goodnight and staggered out, whimpering softly.
The night before, Dragan, my Macedonian friend, loaned me a book, "The Way of a Pilgrim," a tedious account of a wanderer seeking Jesus and enlightenment -- which my Koko cat promptly pissed all over. It had a dedication from his brother, and he kept saying, when will you give it back? I desperately ordered a replacement from the U.S. When it came, I scanned the autographed page, printed a copy and inserted it into the new book. I also looked around on the Net for a nice picture. He's Greek Orthodox, and I found a site of such art. One beautiful Holy Trinity struck me from the 15th Century, and so I printed it and sized it down and placed it in the book behind the inscription page.
So tonight, I held my breath and presented it all to him. He looked at it and pulled out his wallet. Don't pay me, I thought, but no, he pulled out a sealed-in-plastic, identical replica of the same medieval picture! What a shock. The cat piss event was washed away with the grace of God - or what the hell else would you call that! A Velcro vision?
11/11/2005 6:24 pm
I am so self-involved! Just figured out that YOU have a blog too! Duh. Your current post re the erotic movie is apt for me in that I was thinking about trying to pitch this AdultFriendFinder lady about making a "quality" video...maybe you could be the guy. (quack). |
Thanks for the hello man - I feel wanted. I wish my wife were happy to see my back. We could start there and work around to the front. Anyway, your stream of consciousness comment is right up my existential alley. My wife's curry udon is like your grandma's lemon pie in that sense. It always humbles me. Castration by food.
I've written about 25 emails so far, with just 2 automatic replies. Did this site ever work for you? I need a reality check. Last night I found two possiilities and decided to write more at length - one of them is Japanese but wrote a lot on her page and seems really verbal. Another alluded to video and I wrote about doing something with a quality approach. It's an extreme long shot I know. Long shots, close ups... 70,000 uf us, 3,000 of them. Buy, are they sitting pretty, in more ways than one. Me, I saw God last week after a puff or two. I have this refrigerator sticker of Nelson Mandela and in the shadowed light he looked like Dizzy Giillespie with a goatee. If Dizzy were only God.... anyway....
I'm going to check out your stuff - it looks good!