Tuesday, April 21, 2009
lost in translation 15 part 2
the serb is 6 feet and 7 inches tall (just shy of 2 meters). i'm black. the stereotypes associated with my blackness and his 'big-ness' often rub right up against each other like ardent lovers. i am supposedly, as excatalanboy using some kind of fuzzy genetic mathematics calculated, made for bigger dicks. at his height, the serb must have a big dick.... and uuuuaaaalaaa, just imagine the sex between those two!!! i know people's minds be in the gutter when they look at us. nevertheless, i'm still caught off guard when people like the serb's colleague (beautiful blonde, morning show host) corner me and confront me on it directly.
k: so i heard he has a really big... you know...
k: well? is it true?
the serb is leaned up against the bar across the room from us with only one eye on the conversation going on in his immediate vicinity. she looks him up and down. he winks at me. not helping at all. k turns her attention back to me. nudges.
me: where the hell did you hear that?
k: some of the other guys said they've seen it in the dressing room, and i heard it from an ex-girl of his, as well.
the serb is still watching us. i'm looking back. eyebrow raised.
k: come on! you don't have to give details. just say yes or no. is it huge??
the serb and i say our goodbyes a few minutes later, and head out into the freezing serbian cold.
me: babe, k asked me if you had a big dick. no--she told me she heard you had a huge dick, and then asked for confirmation.
he stops midstride. i wonder, not for the first time, why serbians like to linger in, like, -16 degree weather.
serb: what'd you tell her?
me: nothing, of course.
serb: you didn't answer her?
me: hell, no!
serb: why didn't you tell her it was true?
*the window-frost sketch above, which i like to call 'the size situation' is the work of the serb, at a stoplight the very next day