The more I tried to look away, the more my eyes got pulled
back to his face; his Dali-esque mustache, beard of ample facial coverage
shaved three or four days ago, and pinching eyes that made me feel he wanted to
remember every single one of my features. He got up from his seat at the bus
and shaved me before I realized what was happening, asking me for $80 as
payment. I said “No way!”. People on the bus yelled “You got scammed” loudly
and repeatedly until the bus made its next stop. We both got off, as I needed a
cash machine to be able to pay. However, I kept complaining throughout until I got to cash. His
eyes turned sad. He said “Life is hard, pibe” with a thick Argentinean accent,
then turned around and walked away. I chased him, because I still wanted to pay
him. All I meant was that $80 felt unreasonably expensive. He walked too fast
for me and into a small, dark, downstairs bar by a burned-red brick building.
Inside the obscure bar everyone looked strange, and too big.
The air felt damped. I found myself walking around looking for the guy with the
barber toolkit. After a few minutes, tired of looking for him, I stood by one of
those chair-less high tables. A waiter came, and before I could hand-signal that
I wanted nothing he said “someone bought this for you”. My first reaction was to
refuse it, but fearing it could be a trick I said “bring one back to the person
that sent it, on me” and slipped a crisp $20 into his shirt’s pocket.
I looked at my drink. It was mostly crushed ice. I remembered why I hate mojitos so much. I felt observed the same way the barber made me
feel while on the bus. Someone was trying to scam me again. Still, I took a bite
off the content of my Antarctica glass. A skinny, mid 60’s, ugly woman stood
next to me. She said “hello, handsome” with a raspy voice, twirling with her
drink. It was now clear who sent the glass of ice.
I took half a step back as the high table got suddenly full
with people. Everyone wore brown, loose suits and white dirty shirts. I was
grateful to get pushed away from the old lady by force of multitude. A guy
dressed as a clown with huge, wide hair, bumped me from behind and gives me a
wrinkled paper bag full of old, smelly candy. I take it with one hand and check
for my wallet with the other one. The guy next to me saw this and said “you
shouldn’t be so paranoid”. I immediately mistrust him. A second went by and I
checked for my wallet again. It was gone. I looked around quickly, hoping for a
miracle. I had been thinking about moving the wallet from back pocket to front
pocket since coming into this bar.
“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” – I screamumbled to
myself over and over.
I ran to the back of the bar, where 5-6 people were all
dressed as clowns. They all looked a little like my guy, but none of them was.
Where the fuck is he?
How could I be so stupid? I had the good sense of putting
the wallet in my front pocket, a worthless idea if unaccompanied by timely
execution. I was now certain. It was all a scam.
----
Do you now see the island that you live in, the one that
prevents you from drowning in the ocean of light? Did you see it, protecting
you from blindness at the expense of your sanity? Have you witnessed the demise
of your innocence?
I do. I did. I have.
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