I had my share of strange experiences but this time I felt overwhelmed. Who would have thought that a man’s dick could disappear like his bike? What were the odds?
It all started when I finally decided to accept this guy’s invitation and have a few beers with him. He got there first and leaned his bike on a fence near the table, it was a hot summer night and the pub’s terrace was the only reasonable choice. I got there after a few minutes, I don’t like to be late. When I realize I am going late I panic, I wonder if I already missed the appointment, if everybody already left or if I’m pregnant or if I’m dead. I saw him reading the menu and I sat next to him. I’ll just have a beer, hi! I grinned at him and stuck a fingernail between my front teeth. It’s a nasty habit, I know, but I like to scratch my nail polish into abstract tiny drawings. I do that instead of screaming like mad and peel the skin on my lips until I speak blood. You are so beautiful, he told me and I laughed because he could only see me from outside. Of course I looked beautiful into his eyes, he chose me and he had to confirm his choice, he had to convince himself of my beauty. That’s the thing with people, they never speak for others, almost all the time they speak for themselves, trying to prove their thoughts. But maybe something was actually wrong with his eyes, I thought, blinking to adjust my contact lenses. I wear gray contacts for no reason, I just like the idea of me being the Girl with Gray Eyes. Nobody calls me that, anyway. It sounds more like the name of a character.
We started to talk about literature and how I write shit and how he writes shit and how we love to read and how we like to wander through second-hand bookshops and then we got into a little fight because I said I underline and write notes on books pages, sometimes I even fold the corners instead of using book signs and he said You have no respect for books, they are precious and you doodle over them. This guy was so fascinated with the appearance of things, I thought, then I tried to explain. I don’t doodle, I just write my thoughts concerning the text. If I paid for it and I only highlight or add words on the material support of the ideas expressed there, then I don’t see why is this disrespectful. I don’t know if he understood me, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to stop highlighting what John Fante, for example, said when Svevo Bandini made love with his wife, about that big bubble they chased toward the sun and exploded between them.
We finished the first round of beers and ordered a new one, and then I noticed that he was wall-eyed, always looking at his bike with his left eye. But it was dark and I kind of liked him, he had broad shoulders and nice lips. I didn’t care much for his ocular muscles disorder.
Then a little gipsy kid came. He had a bunch of red roses and he was selling them at the tables. A rose for the lady, sir? but my guy said no. I didn’t care much for roses either, I don’t like them dead, if anyone gave me a dead flower I would be furious, I would cry my eyes out, screaming Why?! and ripping its petals. Sometimes, if I suddenly rise from chair to throw the petals, I faint and collapse. The shredded flower falls upon me like a blanket. But this time I was safe, because the kid left without selling his dead roses. He passed near the bike, touching it by mistake and my guy suddenly rose from the table and went jiu-jitsu in air, hit the kid’s head with his foot so hard that the poor kid lost his chewing gum. I saw that pink pellet flying near me, I suppose it fell on someone’s head. Fortunately, the kid wasn’t hurt, my guy had small feet, he came back to me and grabbed me by my shoulders. We kissed for a while, his throat had a weird medicine taste but I didn’t care much for the throat. I preferred to fondle his crotch under the table. We really had something going on there.
Then it happened, but it was something else. The gipsy kid sneaked back and stole the bike. I didn’t care much for the bike, it wasn’t mine. But the guy’s dick was about to be mine and I just felt it disappearing. That was really strange. I said, Please, let me look, maybe I can help! I pulled his pants so I can look inside and thank God, his dick was still there, just that it was completely shrunken. This was something incredible, I mean, I have heard before about stolen bikes but for a dick to just shrunken like that, because a bike disappeared, that was unbelievable. I stopped touching him, finished my beer and left quickly, to tell you the truth, I was scared that he was contagious. I didn’t want to get all tiny and wrinkled so I took the first cab.
Very soon I noticed that I had to pee. I told the cabdriver Can you go faster, please, I have to pee, I’ll pay the speed ticket, there’s no problem, I mean, after I saw what happened with that dick, I couldn’t care less for a speed ticket. The driver was cool, he said Hell no, miss, no way you’re gonna hold your pee, don’t you know?! Your bladder might swell and what if it breaks?! How are you gonna have kids after that?! Such a nice man, I said Don’t worry, sir, I won’t have kids in my bladder anyway. But the driver insisted and said Miss, look, I know a hidden place, nobody knows about it, we go there and you do what you have to do. I have everything, toilet paper, wet napkins, no worries. When we got there I felt like I was about to burst so I went after a bush and peed. I used one of those wet napkins. The driver came to me and said Miss, now that we are here, let me show you something beautiful.
And we looked at the stars.