Necrofagia
The nephew's a bit obsessed, he'd been up late online the night before doing some research.
"Search necrofagia" he tells me, and explains: "it's people who like to eat their own shit..." .
I'm not going to search it, I'm not even slightly interested, but he's not taking no for an answer, he has some questions:
"Why they have such big hands?..."
Apparently the shit eaters have unusually large hands, and I keep alternately tapping my wrist ("Awake or Sleeping?") and trying to escape him, but he's following me around. I don't know that they do have unusually large hands, I only know that he's sort of the Italian equivalent of Karl Pilkington who somehow absorbs inane and irrelevant facts before disgorging his preposterous misinterpretations of them...
I try to change the subject, anything would be better than this and there's hours to go before the restaurant opens and he's showing no signs of giving up...
I give him the idea of a Nazi Based Theme restaurant, he's been of late talking of bringing in giant Swastikas to hang in the entryway, it's another interest of his. He wants to hang a big poster of Mussolini on the wall, he's just not sure his uncle would go for it. He loves the idea of a Nazi themed restaurant, mentally develops the idea, big marble floor with inlaid Swastika, giant double eagles, waiters dressed as SS, bars of soap piled in the lobby, he'd call it the Fourth Reich, design wise it would be a masterpiece but he doubts he could get planning permission, a shame though...
He doesn't let the fact that he's not on any list of the master race dissuade him, the fact that while in the old world notion of white supremacy he might not have been the first target, in no way would he have ever been allowed to survive or breed, it wasn't all about race after all...
His ignorance and racism, they're alternately charming and offensive, but this little SS fantasy restaurant idea of his, it can only distract him for so long. He's back onto the Necrofagia...
"Come to the office, I show you..."
We end up in the bosses office, googling necrofagia. There's no such thing as NSFW here, the whole job is NSFW.
"...necrophagy is the act of eating the flesh of a dead animal."
Now he's stumped, this isn't what he was looking for...we search a little further, the term he was thinking of was Coprophagia.
But there's no mention of the big hands, and here he's again stumped, he's going to send me some links, maybe he's wrong but ...
This not finding the information he wanted, it's quieted him for a bit, he'll do some more research, despite my pleadings of disinterest, he wants to know, not why they eat their own shit (perhaps this he can understand), but why they have such big hands. And I joke with the hostess that she should be careful lest the nephew invite her over for dinner, I can only hope that this occupies his mind a little less thoroughly than the Monkeys at the Zoo did...
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- Category: Conversations
Pennies from Heaven
Builders find a treasure trove in an attic in France. Which you're hearing about probably only because it was workers for the vineyard that did the renovations - contractors, well, that would never have made the news...
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- Category: Found
Saffron Shirt
My side of the dining room is empty, pulling apart a large table that just left, a quiet long weekend, when I glance towards the door, there's another large group entering the restaurant, and just as suddenly we're pulling the table back together ...
I'm not happy, it was looking like an early night, and a couple of the people, older "trophy" blondes, I recognize them and am not so happy, I have to quickly to the bathroom, ...
Heading downstairs I look down at my shirt, it's a bright saffron yellow, this doesn't seem right, and I have an inkling, begin tapping on my wrist and asking myself if I'm awake or dreaming...the answer isn't clear...
I enter the bathroom, 2 urinals on the wall, wall a bright yellow as well, same as my shirt, tapping my wrist more and asking myself more urgently, I want to turn this dream around, get lucid..
...and I wake up.
(lucidity, but no control, and at the cost of having a dream about the restaurant...)
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- Category: Dreams
Sex Toys
A longstanding waitress has decided to treat a new boyfriend - common-law husband to a spicy treat this Valentines.
She wants to surprise him with some Sex Toys.
We've a lovers boutique near the restaurant, and while the restaurant is closed she decides to haul me over to pick out a toy or two.
Her reasoning is that I'm the only man on staff who's shown no interest in her, is somewhat discreet and - here I conjecture - possibly has some authority on the subject. I don't know, I'm only guessing, but given the choice of coworkers, I'm the one I'd bring as well. She doesn't want to go alone, and as I've some professed academic expertise (I'm online a lot...).
This is her first foray into a sex shop. This shop, the lovers boutique, it's far from the best, overpriced novelty toys from China, imported for a dollar and sold on for a hundred, the quality is low, prices are high, I'm not a fan. I recommend to her a few other shops that by reputation are far better.
She's in a rush, doesn't care.
So we glance through the toys, in the end she's drawn towards a variety pack, I recommend against it - the silicon is lousy, the attachments will be lost, the quality - as far as I can tell, isn't there, and I've never known a woman who really used the full variety of attachments. There are better toys for less.
She won't be dissuaded.
So off she goes to buy her Valentines gift for her new beloved, a variety pack of sex toys for herself. I can say nothing.
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- Category: People
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