I’m sipping whiskey I didn’t buy, sitting at a table I didn’t want to be at, listening to a guy whose voice I loathed, staring at the guy’s woman sitting beside him and pressed to his side, a woman whom I desired but couldn’t have. The ironies of life aren’t lost on me and so too is the itch of hypocrisy that sits at the center of my spine rendering it impossible to scratch.
The guy speaking is called Felix. Handsome, tall, light skin. Very white teeth and if rumour is to be believed, he has a penis that rivals the very shaft of a donkey. The three bottles of whiskey on the table came from his pocket. The woman at his side whose name is Sasha couldn’t draw her eyes away from him, I observed as she followed the movement of his lips as if willing Felix to swallow her whole. The other two women and two men at the table were all listening to Felix speak, as attentive as a student who has crush on their teacher.
We are bastards, the whole lot of us are ball fondling bastards! Lining up to fondle Felix’s balls. Why? Because he had the money and the looks and the woman! And what did we have? Josh who sat beside me who was smiling wide at Felix as he spoke, had herpes. He’d gotten it from a whore, the one time he sought the services of a lady of the night was the one night the condom chose to burst and now he has an STD. Yet there Josh sat, drink in hand, smiling at Felix as if the man could cure him of herpes if he just smiled hard enough. Josh, the bastard. Should have used two condoms.
“…. and then I turn to her and say, ‘I’m sorry madame but you’re in my room.'” Felix concludes his story and Tommy, the guy sitting furthest from me who’d been nodding at every word Felix said gave a howl of laughter that made me certain one of his ancestors had fucked a hyena. The bastard, Tommy had no shame. He just sat there laughing, his shoulders shaking and his eyes all teary as if Felix was the spawn of Chris Rock and Trevor Noah. I can bet my left testicle… Neigh… I can bet both my testicles that if a gun was placed to Tommy’s head and he was told to explain the joke Felix just gave, the bastard would die, brains splattered on the ground.
Yet there he was, laughing so hard he was almost toppling off his chair. Tommy, with his flat face and broad nose. You can fit two thumbs into one of his nostrils. Heck! I bet they buried him in the ground as a child and used one of his nostrils as the hole to play marbles with. I observed him, truly observed the bastard and when his laughter died down he spoke between heavy breaths as if he gave his all to laughing at Felix’s jokes and he didn’t want that to go unnoted. “Felix you’re hilarious! You should really pursue comedy as a career bro!”
I saw my mark and pounced, maybe it was the whiskey or maybe it was just my innate nature to be a bane to ball fondling and a willing participant at the same time. “Tommy, did you just tell Felix that he should embark on a career as a clown?”
Tommy stuttered, eyes darting between me and Felix. Noting the crease between Felix’s perfect brows. “What? No… No!” Tommy couldn’t defend himself in the face of Felix’s discomfort. I saw it then, the fear the bastard had of Felix cutting him off if he took offense. No longer a part of the crew, no longer getting calls to late night parties and clubbing and women. This brief moment in the company of Felix was the only moment Tommy believed himself to be enjoying himself. Pity the bastard, basing joy on the mercies of another.
“Kyalo is just messing with you.” Josh said and punched Tommy playfully on the arm. Tommy chuckled nervously and flinched away as if Josh’s touch could give him herpes. We all knew Josh had herpes, he’d told everyone thinking herpes had a cure. He’d even told his pastor who’d taken him in front of a church of two thousand people so they could pray for his herpes to be cured. It was the first time someone was prayed for without anyone laying a hand on him because they feared the herpes would be contagious incase God refused to offer healing, which He of course refused.
One of the girls, sitting to my left nodded at me over the rim of her glass and said. “And you, what’s your story? You have this silent brooding vibe. Like you’re a tortured soul or something.” The other girl beside her nodded at me as if they were both eager to learn something about me. The bastards, couldn’t they see I was just like them? There at the mercy of the great Felix. Couldn’t they see that any interest drawn towards me and not towards Felix would have me fall out of his favor? My God, I was a bastard too, just like them. We were all ball fondling bastards.
I leaned forward, thought of the most absurd topic I could think of and spoke. “My uncle told me, ” and I ran my hands across the side of the bottle of whiskey before gripping its neck and tilting its contents over my glass, filling it to the brim. I took a sip, lowered the glass and peered at those around me, drawing their attention to me, even that of Sasha. Beautiful, lustrous Sasha, God I wish she had a brain, she’d be perfect for me.
“My uncle told me,” I started again. “That the best place to fuck a donkey is downhill, that way it can’t throw kicks while you’re mounting it.”
Silence as they all stared at me. A second passed, then another, then another. Then Felix burst out laughing and suddenly it was as if what I’d said was confirmed to be funny and all of them laughed, Tommy the loudest of all, the bastard, with his huge nose flaring like a bull’s. Josh laughed and leaned close to Tommy who flinched away again, still laughing though but very aware of herpes. Felix raised his glass to me and took a gulp of the whiskey, those around the table mirrored his gesture and I sat there, feeling like the biggest bastard of the lot.
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