Respect the bread

One time I was throwing pieces of bread at this Venezuelan chick's open mouth. It was night. The sea was illumined by the moon. All was right with the world for those few moments. What could intrude on such a little time of happiness?

If someone had answered a fat Turkish asshole I would have thought it a funny answer, but that actually was the right one. There she was laughing, soft rolled up pieces of bread bouncing off of her pretty face. She seemed kind of insane in that moment, truly crazy I mean. As if she had abandoned all hope of ever being satisfied and longed to forget about everything and just allow my bread to bounce off of her face as she stared at the ocean and giggled.

It was one of the more tender moments of my life.

I tossed the bread lightly into the air. Perhaps it was kissed by an ocean breeze before it descended and bounced off her cheek, or nose, or landed in her long dark hair. I never could put it in her mouth. She giggled weirdly each time it hit her face, but never more so than when a little bread ball caught her in the eye.

"Oww!" she said, in English. I wondered what she would have said had she spoken Spanish for that second. She was laughing as she said "Oww", and put her fingers to her face. I think she was truly happy in that moment, getting gently pelted with bread balls.

Suddenly the fat Turkish asshole appeared. I don't know about the lives of most people, or what situations one might find oneself in, but I don't think there exists a time or a place where a fat Turkish asshole's presence is a good thing. Maybe a buggerer's convention in Ankara. Do they have those?

He feigns being a gentleman and asks if the Latin chick is hurt. She giggles bizarrely in response and stares at the moon with a goofy smile, as if her mind was a thousand miles away. I wonder if she was dreaming of nutella. She liked sweet things that Venezuelan girl.

Next the fat Turk, who undoubtedly smelled, picked up a bread ball and hurled it at me. "Respect the bread!" he yelled.

I laughed. Not freakishly like the Venezuelan girl, but heartily, like some king who sees a peasant get crushed by a runaway cartload of pumpkins.

"What?" I was truly fucking incredulous.

"What are you doing? You have to respect the bread! You can't throw bread around."

I think it's rare when a person can pinpoint exactly, through all their years of life, and all the hundreds of thousands of words they've listened to, the absolute stupidest fucking thing they've ever heard uttered.

"That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard." I said.

It was.

"You can't throw bread!" Asshole was getting angrier.

"Wait a minute, you just threw it."

"No I didn't."

But of course he had. Asshole was stupid as well as fat. "Yes you did. You just picked up a piece and threw it at me."

The Venezuelan girl had a contented far away glaze in her eyes. Was she on heroin?

I wondered.

The Turkish asshole was contrite for a moment. "Oh. I shouldn't have done that. That was a mistake. But look what you were doing with the bread...you're an asshole."

I didn't think he had a future as a lawyer. "She was throwing the bread too. Are you calling her an asshole?"

Fatty demurred. "No...she's not." He strained himself to concoct an excuse for his hypocrisy but his fatness failed him, and he simply changed the subject. "You were not raised right. You don't know you're supposed to respect the bread...blah blah blah fat Turkish things."

I really don't remember much of what he said after that. He was so greasy and stupid. I decided to tell him so as I was growing bored and the Venezuelan girl was in a stupor.

"Listen, you're really stupid. Seriously. You're a stupid person. I mean that. So you shouldn't talk. You really should just keep your mouth shut cause you're not very bright. You're saying some of the stupidest fucking things I've ever heard. Really. Stupid people like you should not talk."

For some reason he got upset at that. He mentioned the bible in some context but I wasn't really listening anymore. The girl from Uzbekistan showed up and started talking about the bible too. Whenever someone brings up the bible I usually drift off and start thinking about pussy.

The Venezuelan girl was funny. She looked good under that night sky, a palm frond tickling her shoulder. The sea breeze was blowing hair across her face and she was staring vacantly at a bread ball on the ground. I think she wanted to eat it.