Part 37: Test-Tackles, part 2
Call me crazy, but...
...speaking of which, and with YOU, dear blog-fan, and ONLY you, I must confide that - of late - I have been having a slight skin irritation in my "erogenous" zone, (jock-itch?) caused - I believe - partly (probably!) by stress and through travel; not shedding my clothes, 2 days at a time, plus binges & the "sweats"!
Georgie (Gold), and of late, recently released on his own cognizance, from the Linz haupt-kranken-haus, where - incidentally - he was much beloved by the swarms of skin-tight, white uniform-clad...and VERY nubile kranken-swesters...and, again...recently released with a clean bill of health...
(he was ...er, "in-turned" for a cocktail of Bohemian complaints)
....but suffers NO erogenous symptoms outside of really "jones-ing" for a pack of smokes & a keg of schnapps.
So! By pre-arrangement, I pick him up at the haupt-kranken-haus´s main portal using a super-market trolley cart, handing him a much needed bottle of Jack Daniels.
(the latter, "on loan" from the same market the shopping cart came from)
....And... "in the early morning rain"...in Linz...we go in search of an "ashtray" (smokey bar), hopefully open!
It´s, like... 6 a.m.
Of course (I love starting sentences with "of course"...like Soup, first on the menu).... Of course, "in-flight" conversation is initially polite, cursory, minimal. The weather? Your health? Got "laid" lately?, etc., but I DO - man to man - mention (out of the blue) my erogenous zone complaint and...due to Georgie´s (Georgie Gold´s) limited grasp of English, though IN CONCERT he is extremely eloquent...specify most pointedly that I am indeed referring, again, "specifically", to my Ball-bag, my testicles....which I immediately discover "testicles" is indeed a foreign word to the average Austrian, including Georgie von Gold.
Now, I DO say "in-flight" conversation as the trip from the haupt-kranken-haus to the nearest (open) bar in a supermarket trolley cart takes about 45 minutes, yet it´s Georgie (Prozac-Xanax-ed to the gills) riding in the cart, with a bottle of "Jack", cltuching a plastic bag filled with his "meds", and me...behind...Aqualung-scraggy, huffing & puffing, trying to navigate the blessed trolley-cart along cobbled streets, dodging potholes, etc., and LIKE Georgie (Georgie Gold) am "jones-ing" for a keg; in MY case? -Brewskies!
However! -in-flight conversation! My erogenous zone business. Ball.bag. Testicles!
Yup! That trick or treat bag that God gives to every boy at birth.... And, HOLY-MOLEY! -you´d better pray, Lads, it works!
Anyways:
Me: "Erogenous zone."
GG: "Vas!?"
ME: "Ball-bag!"
GG: "Soccer?"
ME: " TESTICLES!... And give me a slug of the `Jack`!"
I pause the "trek", catch breath, take a slug of J.D., fire up a "rollie", then push on ahead.
Rattle-rattle, cough-burp, along we go with the super-market (super?) trolley cart like 2 sacks of spuds (potatoes); one splayed IN the cart, the other (ME), huffing and pushing behind.
"Ha-ha!" exclaims Georgie, moments later.
Me: "Wha?"
GG: "Test-tackles!"
"Tess what?"
"TEST-TACKLES!!!"
Thinking Georgie has STILL got his mind on Soccer, least ways, Sports, I refrain from again pausing - to explain/clarify the venacular - and push double quick-time in the direction of a faded yellow neon that spells: BAR., ergo, WE (Georgie Gold & I) "test-tackle" at full speed-a´clatter, crash through the bar´s double doors, cart and all...where I park/abandon Georgie (in cart) AT the actual ancient wooden bar, hit the "john", then return to find his "One-ness" holding court with several all night, chain smoking, binge folks/GG-fans....
...and we, there-on, "test-tackle" our way through a couple of kegs/casks until mid-afternoon, which - of course! - is when the money runs out!
c 2011. davedelacroix/our man in europe/Schwarzwald-germany
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