You Are An Artist

Several days later, he came back to the apartment, with full of bruises and cuts on all over his body after the first practice of American football. He turned on the light and shouted at the top of his lungs, notwithstanding it was past 1:00 a.m., “Heartless son of bitch! Are you sleeping? Couldn’t you wait for your friend’s return from the first practice?”

The sharp light made me wholly awake. And I shouted annoyingly, “Son of bitch! Do you know what time it is?”

“Ha-ha-ha…. Sorry my friend, I know it’s too late, but I need to talk and share my first experience with you.”

I calmed down a bit and said, “Don’t be sorry, I know you, my friend. And sorry for falling asleep. I was too exhausted due to writing. I wrote so many pages today and got a gratified headache. Anyway, how was it going on? Did you enjoy playing it?”

He was looking at the outside for a while and revealed his shame by howling, “Hell no! What a humiliation! I didn’t understand why I chose this particular sport. Oh my God, Shogo, you can’t believe it. They’re too strong and huge! They knocked me down countless times as if I were a blade of grass. I didn’t expect that I was hurled to the sky so easily. They hurt my pride of manhood, you know, anyway. Look at my body, my friend. I got full of bruises and cuts on all over my body. Look at my right arm, Christ, it’s bleeding!”

Of course, he has never started jogging after work as he proudly announced. Every time I come back to the apartment from my night perambulation, the same scene is repeated. He always watches his favourite TV show, Playboy Mansion by touching himself. I should tell you here that he has a disgusting habit to touch himself, as if he could not do anything without checking on his stallion every two minutes. And I would say, “What happened, man? Did you jog today?”

He would denigrate insolently, “Of course, I didn’t, man. I’m so tired – you should’ve understood the reality better! I have to work hard to pay rent, you know. If I don’t work and just jog around La Condesa every day like Rocky Balboa, who will pay the rent? Who will be taking care of you? I know you think that everyone ought to support you, nourish you along until you are recognized as a writer. You never think that you might take a job meanwhile. Oh no, it isn’t your way. You have important messages to contribute to the world, so you’re not supposed to waste your precious time. You are an artist. Well, downrightly you are, for all I know. You’re living in the totally different world, Shogo. But the rest of us have to work, man! Do you really think that jogging around La Condensa is able to earn daily bread? Think harder about what you’re insinuating, son of bitch! Think twice before opening your stupid mouth, shame on you!”

“Ha-ha-ha, idiot. I just said it because you, yourself announced you would be jogging every day after work, not me, remember? Anyway, please stop touching yourself. It makes me nauseated, man!”

“What is wrong with me to check Gerardo Jr. every five seconds? Is that against the law? I don’t think so, man, ha-ha-ha…. By the way, Shogo, look at TV. Oh my God, she is so beautiful. Her name is Sara Underwood. She is my dream girl. What do you think about her?”

“I guess she is okay and has a pretty face,” I would reply indifferently.

“What? Are you crazy? Look at her closely, man. She is an angel. I tell you, my friend. She is the most exquisite vagina whom my eyes have ever laid on. She has perfect tits and a knockout ass. To cap it all, she has the seraphic face. Golly, her ass, man, I simply can’t keep my eyes off her ass, you know. Yeah! A wonderful piece of ass – and also, I can’t look at her without having tremendous erection, ha-ha-ha….”

Yes, Gerardo is very fine. He is everlastingly obsessed with women, and he has not changed a wee bit since the first time I met him ten years ago.