jueves, 22 de julio de 2010
Moisturiser: preserving or exposing pillowy skin?
I feel I’ve broken through some of the initial difficulties of living in a new country where a.) You know no one b.)You cant communicate..this leads to difficulties in point ‘a’ c.)You are continually kissed by men..damn that filthy Carlos. How have I done this? Imperialism. ‘But you cant possi…’ Wrong. The ball is rolling, only a fool would stand in the way.
Point ‘a’ has been solved through my expansionist regime orchestrated in the office, combined with gentle paddling in the expat pool.
Point ‘b’ posed bigger problems…and so I start my espanol lessons next week, in the mean-time I’ve developed a phenomenal pointing finger, sharpened up my acting skills and raised my voice a little. However, the biggest break-through came when I was deep in chat and chit with a fellow worker…“well Pablo, that’s an interesting point you propose there; on first glance J.K. Rowling may well be writing for a younger audience, yet a deeper analysis would suggest that this is far from the case, and no Pablo, pointing that ruler at me and shouting ‘rred rred’, does not make you Ron.”
Suddenly I hear this voice from behind me squeak : “haha señor…you look like Bill…pince o bales!”
I reeled around to face this little, squat, chocolate coloured South American.
“What? Who the hell are you? Bill, Bales…what in gods name are you trying to say man?”
The squeaking started again…
“haha haha…bill….you know señor…pince..dar dar da da, dar dar da daaaa.” This was followed by a mock self crowning.
“Ahh I see. Firstly that’s a wedding song, secondly its W…Wales and William, and he’s not Prince of Wales…doesn’t matter.”
Then it clicked… ‘hang on a second, Green & Black’s over here thinks I look like a member of the Royal family…the limits to which this accidentally leaked piece of knowledge could extend are boundless…as far as they should be concerned, I would be known as ‘that Englishman…the one with royal blood coarsing through his veins’, although it’s unlikely they’d elect the word ‘coarsing’ or ‘veins’.
Thus I swivelled back towards this little coffee bean and, with as low a voice as I could produce, I answered:
“Yes, I do indeed look like William….now take your suspiciously child-sized legs and spread the word throughout…this building.”
At last I will be able to shake off the shackles of charades, and instrument my policies through mere face movement. I was a royal and that was that.
In terms of accommodation, I have only a week or so until I will be moving from my studio flat in Viamonte, a street that should have no name, to San Telmo or Monserrat(I’m unsure at the moment); replacing living above two strip clubs, and next to a 6ft 5” transvestite, for an area renown for it’s antiques and tango….sad times lie ahead.
Point ‘c’ has been eradicated in part. Yes, I am still subjected to coarse man-stubble on coarse man-stubble, except I possess little stubble, and it is neither manly or coarse, but I’ve worked out that the prime man-kissing hours are between 9am and 10am (as well as random meetings throughout the day that I have little to no control over)..thus it is during these hours that i´m already deep into my work… “ohhh bonjour Carlos, cómo estás?”… “whats that you say?…yes, you are unable to ‘properly’ greet me….. and no, I will not move out of my work cubicle/impenetrable social fortress so that you can man-handle me…oh naive Carlos, you knew this day would come…did you really think you could get away with your face rape for ever..haha…now scarper or I shall launch an offensive of rubber-bands, slow moving staples and post-it notes with carefully sketched penises on them.”
I´m drinking lots of espresso, which is nice (they serve it with a small glass of fizzy water and a small biscuity, dulche de leche thing on the side. The fizzy water is stroke of genius). I’m eating red meat pretty much everyday, which is great. I´m drinking good red wine everyday, which brilliant. Beef is practically cheaper than chicken, depending on the cut, maybe this is down to some underground battery cow trade…I’m not too bothered, my ethics took flight long ago.
One last thing…I’ve worked out, cos o me intuition, that Portenos enjoy a good protest. I’ve frequently found myself confronted with a few hundred protesters. I may or may not have told you about ‘picketeers’…they’re unemployed chaps who professionally protest, well they don’t really do the protesting, they hold the front (vangard), the sides and the rear (the sides and the rear) and hold metal or wooden poles, kitted out in less than formal attire with a paisley (although check is often sought after) patterned handkerchief around their faces (leaving room for eyes obviously..otherwise chaos really would rein)..anyway this lot clear the roads and, if it comes to it, engage in physical contact with the police…who have plenty of tear gas(or large speakers playing ‘nothing compares to u’ by Sinead O’Connor). Fireworks/cheap bangers (…if they had the money for a good fireworks display they´d hardly need to be protesting) are let off and drums and other make-shift musical instruments are “played”. I had quite an interesting first-encounter with these protesters that involved what I thought was initial common ground for discontent towards the government, but later found out was not so common, and rather dangerous: they wanted food, shelter and to be rid of the shackles of political prejudice…I wanted an electric cooking hob and a new light bulb….
This extra bit goes out to less sensitive ears:
About to get success last night and so my mind was filled with the sound of fireworks and orchestral music.
“I’m just gonna get my jacket (jumper thing.. I don’t know the word for jumper..)”. I tell her.
She doesn’t unwrap herself from me..lad.
“Yes, you will have to let go if I’m to fulfill this task…what?…you cant stand up straight…this poses problems…but I guess I can work around this minor setback.” I inform her.
I try to prop her up but it was like making a pencil stand vertically…maybe you could do it for a few seconds but its never going to last.
“Well, this is an interesting situation…how about I drag you along and put you in a taxi home instead. Taxi drivers are nice people, they’ll know what to do in this situation… .”
Also on this subject..heard about the girl from school who cried wolf..or rape. Enjoyed andy’s reaction to this news: “you hear bout girl who got raped at welly?” I asked.
“No. House or woods?”…brilliant.
It was only a matter of time until something like this happened… “oh look at me mum, im all naive and innocent, just doing my homework and playing netball…BAM…raped”. What an idiot.
Publicado por F.U.F en 7:49