Thursday, July 1, 2010

Reactions to a mendicant boy necking my friend

There is a place like Galicia 40 years ago, sort of. Galicia plus high heels and internet and minus religion; and lots of meat instead of seafood. It is called Kosovo. It is the youngest country in the world. Galicia is the oldest. (If you say so…)

Anyway, my much more handsome alter ego (according to him) was in Kosovo one day with a couple of other guys. Just knocking back some beers at a cafe and discussing the surrounding women in English under the assumption that they didn’t understand a word they were saying. A woman next to my alter ego with silky legs and sumptuous boobs, was blowing bubbles and eating an ice cam cone. She had a short skirt and a child with her as well as a couple of other ugly children not worth mentioning.

On the walk over my alter ego had seen a street mother admonishing her child for ticking his hands down his pants in public, way, way down (You should’ve taken photos of that, dude)

Anyway, it while they were drinking, that woman at the next table beautiful face was eating ice cream and blowing bubbles, but the ice cream was for her tongue and the bubbles were to entertain the child. My alter ego commented, “wow is she really blowing bubbles, is this a porno waiting to happen?” He continued staring at her, imagining some action when a boy approached the table. My alter ego recognized the boy, but not his hands, those had been concealed.

Across the pedestrian walkway was a mother, or some sort of creature. The kind that covers her head with a scarf she was, maybe a hijab but I don’t know the weird names those people have for handkerchiefs. Maybe a gypsy. She chose her marks and pointed to people sitting at the café. She had a son, maybe grandson, or just some poor boy she had captured, maybe five or six. The boy would go to those people and beg for spare change. Well he wouldn’t just beg, he would make moves on you. He would hug or even try to kiss you.

My alter ego’s friend, a tall, blonde metrosexual, got the worst of it. The boy, blondish and dirt covered, snuck up behind his chair and necked his nape. Meaning, he totally kissed his neck. We just hoped he would stop putting moves on us, so we froze hoping that if we didn’t move, he couldn’t see us. The waiters caught sight of him, the were familiar with him. His creature mom camped out in front of that café everyday, sending in her son/pawn in to beg. One of the waiters was spinning some sort of short half-whip/half-chain menacingly, as if asking his well-to-do guests for some spare change were a great offense.

One waiter managed to pinch the boy to get him to scramble away. Its always the peons that get the punishment. Upon returning to his creature mother, he was slapped. He was punished by those who thought him guilty and by the manipulator who made the other think he was guilty, kind of like in real-life government and business. His mother wouldn’t let him give up and once the waiters had come back inside in search of food and drinks for their masters, the creature mother sent the boy back out.

After the boy hugged and kissed my alter ego’s companions, he approached my alter ego. (My alter ego is just a good friend of mine, he likes to be referred as alter ego, not just in this blog but in real life as well, he clearly has self-confident issues) My alter ego quickly pulled out change and said “I’ll pay you not to touch me.” Of course, the boy didn’t speak any English and thought he was being asked for hugs and promptly embraced my alter-ego. My alter ego nudged the boy away while pinching a 50-cent piece as close to the edge as possible, so that when the boy grabbed it there wouldn’t be any skin contact between fingers, hopefully.

The woman next door disgusted looked over and commented in perfect English, “Maybe if he blew sexy bubbles you wouldn’t recoil from that poor boy.” She then called the waiter, paid him, and left. My alter ego watched the trim of her skirt dance around her lower thighs feeling the disdain from her gaze even as her back was turned. “He had dirty hands!” He shouted internally.

Then my alter ego thought about it and came out with better reactions than the one he chose. These are some reactions to a dirt-faced little boy hugging you and kissing your neck for change: (And yes, I’m not the only writer in this pity blog)

1/ Give him food (That would infuriate his creature mom who does not eat food but uses the money to buy whatever material she feeds off of)

2/ Go to one of the small stands on the street and purchase a toy puppy for him (Wouldn’t work. His mom would have eaten it)

3/ Join the waiters with little whips (Then form a posse, and push every beggar out of the streets and in to the hillsides)

4/ Recruit my own child and direct him to go beg from the creature mom (If she decided to use his child for protection by any chance, command my child to fight him in a death child’s battle, Pokémon’s way)

5/ Give the boy everything I have, be merciful and let him go on his way (No way that just encourages them)

6/ Adopt him and steal the creature’s livelihood (That’s sort of the story of my life)

7/ Become a pimp and take the boy to places where people would love to give him change for kisses (My Spanish cousin would have been the first in the line)

8/ Approach the creature mom, tear off her hijab and reveal her to the world like a disguised Men in Black alien (Then fuck her hard)

9/ Work with the government to start a center for street children (boooooooring)

10/ Use my hand cuffs to take the mendicant boy to my house and lock him in the basement with the other mendicants (The inconvenient of Kosovo is that is a really poor place and I’ll need a bigger basement pretty soon)

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