Virgem e suicida


At the check-in counter they said this would be a very good seat for me. They were totally right. It was like they knew me all along. Mister Joid, they said. It’s true I’m surrounded by women. Some stunners. Some better than that.

Traveling by plane it is not the same as going to the movies. Someone much taller – much, much taller – could be sitting in front of us and it wouldn’t really matter. We wouldn’t even notice. It’s not an issue. It could even be a giant – I wouldn’t be noticed. After taking off, nothing else matters. We fly. It’s another dimension. It’s like being nowhere. It’s being in Heaven. With all the saints. From number one to the last on the list, the one everybody forgets and sits at the back, dressed as a young girl polishing her nails.

When I go to the toilet there is a girl who insists in getting in with me, forcing her entry. With me. As if she was sticking some huge thing in a drawer – my body. She is blonde, she shines. I’m being nice and telling her to go ahead, but she is being nice and is just pushing me, grabbing my back, leaning all her strength and hotness, looking from side to side. Her perfume seeping into my clothes. I was just going to brush my teeth. She comes in behind me and locks the door. Light becomes brighter. I hate lights. With a bit of effort it is almost possible to see the brain’s tentacles wriggling inside. She doesn’t loose time and starts undressing. Takes her skirt off and puts it on the hook, carefully. I don’t know how she finds time for that because in the next second she’s taking her shirt off. Deep red, thrown into the air that’s left inside that “drawer”. I just want to brush my teeth. She blocks the mirror and hides the tap with her enormous, glistening body, purple, silk like. She doesn’t allow me to reach the tap. She grabs my hand and takes it to…yes, she’s truly made of silk. I could tell her that a woman I know left me for the ugliest man in the suburb of the village where I live. But I say nothing. I could try to scare her with
it, but I won’t. I can’t speak, she took my tongue. I can’t see myself – her only. This is rape, I reckon. She is brushing my teeth with…

I’m at the aisle at the back of the plane. One of the hostesses rub her tail on me every time she goes by. The first time she excuses herself. Pardon me, she said. She is hard. I start thinking about what she does to have such a hard butt. She pretends to help the passenger on the next seat and stretches all the way for my benefit. Towards my shoulder. It’s on purpose, I’m sure. Her name is Louise. This is rape, I reckon.

At the check-in counter they said this would be a very good seat for me. They were totally right. It was like they knew me all along. Mister Joid, they said. It’s true I’m surrounded by women. Some stunners. Some better than that.

With hoarse sexy voices and all, as I like. Nine hundred and thirty kilometers an hour one can’t wish for more.

When I was younger I saw on TV the original version of the Hollywood sequel that is showing on the screen of my seat companion. The movie is named after two cops and they drive fast. I look at her legs while she is distracted laughing like mad. She moves them way too much for someone with headphones only. It is hot. There is nowhere else I can look at, my miserable tentacles are stuck at the moment.

On the other side of the plane, two sisters. Audrey and Katherine. I met them by chance before getting on board while going into the wrong toilet by mistake. Toilets? I asked. This is rape, they reckoned. Now they are feeling cold and try to keep warm. And me right here, hot as hell. Here comes the hostess again, the one. This time she stares at me and ask if I need anything. She is right in front of me. Leaning on my shoulder. Yes, I need something. She is hard and soft at the same time No underwear, I imagine. Smells like heaven, the one we are in. I take my time answering. She takes her time to ask again. It seems I must go brush my teeth. The two sisters, after all, are in the movie that my neighbour is watching.

Colombo. Murray. Taiwan Strait. Far away lands, all in the same map. How small the world is. How it ceases to exist up here. Unseen. And the plane doing a thousand an hour. I can feel it. Traveling by plane is better than going to the movies. It’s confirmed. It’s all you can eat. Drinks are in full throttle. I asked for some wine to quiet down. A lot of wine. Red. Drank it all. Small cool bottles. Now I must wash my teeth. Guilin, marked by a little ball. Kunming and cities nearby. Village suburbs like mine. With similar names. Written in strange forms. We are at ten kilometers of altitude and amazingly I feel no vertigo. Only hallucinations. It seems this is an official trip. That is why I’m here. I’m the only officer in economy. But I wouldn’t trade my place with the others. Ah! The sisters are very friendly with each other. They caress one another. There are people who can strike a conversation just like that. They talk like they knew everyone from start. Ten minutes ago I’d never seen them before. I stretch my feet. My hostess brings more wine. To help me to sleep I throw two pills stolen from my new girlfriend, without her knowing it. She’s on the ground and I couldn’t care less now. Instead, I make a note not to forget the brunette in 64H with olive eyes. Green olives. And me who don’t like olives. Now I’ll sleep, well… You can be sure I try to count sheep. Get stuck on the first. I always get stuck on the same one – a lonely female sheep. No other comes next, let’s see if it has a hoarse voice.

This is definitely much better than being at the movies. One can change the flick all the time. The trip has barely started and I’m already well ahead of my mind…

[Published in Hoje Macau, on July 2004]