{"id":13812,"date":"2017-10-09T05:00:48","date_gmt":"2017-10-09T12:00:48","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/bullmensfiction.com\/?p=13812"},"modified":"2022-08-03T13:14:08","modified_gmt":"2022-08-03T17:14:08","slug":"three-fishermen-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/fiction\/three-fishermen-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Three Fishermen"},"content":{"rendered":"

Not a soul in the harbour, night shift with leftovers on the plates and greasy glasses around the terrace, but he couldn\u2019t be bothered, he just sat behind his open bar and the moon with its stars wasn\u2019t bad and the harbour with its caiques looked all right, and the voices that were heard were foreign, from the back they were coming, from town, they were the Egyptian fishermen, the three Mohammeds, \u201cMarhaba<\/em>, Marhaba<\/em>,\u201d and they sat at the bar and told him with their roaring voices that they had just left a pussy-bar, and something stirred in him, like pain.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, Pavlo, women,\u201d said one Mohammed, as one of the other Mohammeds legged it to the loo, and this Mohammed was known around the harbour as Up-Your-Arses, that\u2019s how they called him, not the one who went to the loo, the one who was doing the talking, the one who said, \u201cOh so beautiful women, man,\u201d this one was Up-Your-Arses, and he said, \u201cThere was a blond there,\u201d he said, \u201cnew at the place and her nails were painted red, I was getting hard, what wouldn\u2019t I give to fuck her, but she said, \u2018No, no, I\u2019ve got my period,\u2019 and I said, \u2018How about a blowjob, baby?\u2019 \u2018No way,\u2019 \u2018No?\u2019 \u2018No, no,\u2019 so I said, \u2018Would you like another drink?\u2019 \u2018A triple vodka and coke,\u2019 she said, and I saw they poured her just coke and charged me for vodka, and I said: \u2018Can you give me a blowjob now?\u2019 \u2018I just said no, didn\u2019t I? What\u2019s wrong with you?\u2019 \u2018Can I touch your titties?\u2019 \u2018No!\u2019 and my cock was hard but trapped downwards in my jeans and my nob was rubbing against the seat, I was in agony, and I said, \u2018Why not, baby? Why can\u2019t I touch your little titties?\u2019 \u2018They hurt, when I got my period my titties hurt, touch my thighs,\u2019 but I didn\u2019t know what thighs were and I asked what thighs were, I said, \u2018Thighs<\/em>? What are thighs<\/em>? I\u2019m a foreigner, what are thighs<\/em>?\u2019 and she took my hand and put it there, high up her leg, and it was warm there: \u2018This <\/em>is a thigh,\u2019 she said and took my other hand and did the same thing, \u2018And this is another thigh, for God\u2019s sake you don\u2019t know what thighs are?\u2019 and I hadn\u2019t fucked for a month you know, I squeezed them, those thighs, and my cock kept pushing against my jeans and my nob was rubbing on the seat and I couldn\u2019t help it, all that agony, so I came: \u2018Oh, I\u2019m so sorry, so that\u2019s <\/em>what thighs are, eh?\u2019 and she took my head in her hands and said, \u2018You\u2019ve gone all red and shy! Oh why don\u2019t you talk now? Oh you\u2019re such a sweet shy boy!\u2019 that\u2019s what the bitch said, she didn\u2019t know I had come.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cListen, Pavlo,\u201d said the other Mohammed, who was fat and bald, with massive earlobes, \u201cthe truth is that it\u2019s not good that they go to pussy-bars and spend money on whores.\u201d<\/p>\n

Up-Your-Arses almost screamed. \u201cThey?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, you two, of course, you and the other Mohammed, that\u2019s all you do, you go to these bars for the women, the Koran says this is bad, and what you do is stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n

This was even closer to a scream. \u201cDon\u2019t you<\/em> go to pussy-bars?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVery rarely.\u201d<\/p>\n

This one came from between his teeth. \u201cNow you\u2019re annoying me, fatty.\u201d He turned to Pavlo, and this one came from the heart: \u201cI love fucking. Wallah <\/em>I go there every night of the baedoz<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

The fat Mohammed said, \u201cI come with you because otherwise I have nowhere to go,\u201d and, he, too, turned to Pavlo: \u201cWhat can I do, go somewhere on my own?\u201d<\/p>\n

Now it seemed that Pavlo had to do a bit of talking, to say something, but Pavlo preferred it when he didn\u2019t have to talk, it seemed that the immigrants took it for granted that he had been to pussy-bars, that that\u2019s what men do, unless they are homosexuals or there were religious issues involved, that\u2019s what they probably thought and if that\u2019s what they thought then fair enough that\u2019s what they thought, but Pavlo had grown up learning that pussy-bars were filthy, only those who couldn\u2019t get laid otherwise went there, the pervs, the mentally deranged, the fucked up ones, and he had never been in one, and that\u2019s why he preferred to stay silent now, that\u2019s why and also because he couldn\u2019t stop himself from imagining that blond with the red nails: red nails turned him on, on and on, and so he imagined the blond\u2019s hand on his cock, he imagined her hand making a fist around his cock, squeezing it.<\/p>\n

Pavlo?<\/em><\/p>\n

Pavlo looked up and his eyes moved from one Egyptian to the other, and he saw the guilt of pleasure in them and it seemed like they saw the guilt of no pleasure in him.<\/p>\n

Up-Your-Arses turned to the fat Mohammed: \u201cIf you don\u2019t like the pussy-bars then go somewhere on your own. Don\u2019t join me and then<\/em> say that I do stupid things. Stay in the boat and read the Koran and play with your cock.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I didn\u2019t spend all my money there,\u201d the fat one attacked. \u201cI send money back to my family.\u201d<\/p>\n

Up-Your-Arses had nothing to reply on that as he probably did spend all his money in pussy-bars, so he seemed relieved to see the third Mohammed coming out of the toilet, and he laughed: \u201cIt\u2019s this arsehole who spends everything there.\u201d<\/p>\n

The third Mohammed had only one arm, the other one had been sliced off one night at work, lost in the Aegean Sea, and he walked towards the bar with this air of satisfaction that some people have when they leave the toilet, and he took his time to take a seat, and didn\u2019t go straight into answering Up-Your-Arses, he wanted to light up first, and the others watched him as he put a cigarette to his lips, they watched him taking his lighter out of his shirt pocket, striking the flint barrel, it didn\u2019t work, striking again, the sweet little flame lit up the cigarette with tiny crackling noises, and he puffed on it, sucking in a long blast, \u201cMashallah<\/em>,\u201d and he left the cigarette on the ashtray and into the night rose beautiful ribbons of fine silver smoke, and maybe it was because he only had only arm that he didn\u2019t give a shit and took his time: \u201cSo tonight, Up-Yours, you didn\u2019t spend all your money?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly forty Euros.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich was all you had.\u201d<\/p>\n

Up-Your-Arses laughed and told Pavlo that that was right.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou see, Pavlo? I told you,\u201d said the fat one.<\/p>\n

The Mohammed who had one arm looked at the Mohammed who had two fat arms: \u201cAnd you, habibi<\/em>? Didn\u2019t you buy drinks for the whores?\u201d<\/p>\n

The fat one spoke to Pavlo again: \u201cBut what could I do? That\u2019s a rule when you go to those kinds of bars. If I don\u2019t buy them drinks, they kick me out.\u201d<\/p>\n

All three Mohammeds looked at Pavlo now, they expected him to say something at last, to give a verdict perhaps, to judge them, but Pavlo didn\u2019t care about their commitment to their religion, they could tell now that he didn\u2019t care about that stuff and he could tell they liked him for not caring, but what he couldn\u2019t tell was whether they could see through him, whether they saw that he was judging not them but himself, that he was feeling empty, sad, inferior to these immigrants who had been enjoying the life of pussy-bars, who now sat by the bar, half-drunk, their eyes glistening with memories, and the truth was that he didn\u2019t have the balls to go to pussy-bars, he was scared to push open their opaque glass doors and, night after night, shut them against his town\u2019s decency, he was jealous of them, of the immigrants, of their boldness, their adventures, but he wouldn\u2019t admit it, and he looked at them and they looked at him, and the space in-between was trapped in guilt, his and theirs.<\/p>\n

Seeing that Pavlo was a bit slow in joining the conversation, the three Mohammeds talked between themselves, accusing each other: \u201cYou bought them all these drinks, I<\/em> didn\u2019t!\u201d \u201cYou did! Wallah<\/em> I saw you.\u201d \u201cYes, yes, and I was watching you both\u2026\u201d until they started talking in Arabic, probably about how many beers they\u2019d had, they talked in their language for some time, then Up-Your-Arses turned to Pavlo and, nodding towards the fat one, he said: \u201cHe\u2019s an arsehole, Pavlo, he keeps talking about the Koran, but he\u2019s like us, he does drink alcohol and he does buy drinks for the whores.\u201d<\/p>\n

And Pavlo kept silent, hearing the voices of the immigrants calling his name from the hell of Islam, Pavlo, Pavlo<\/em>, he heard them, Pavlo, Pavlo<\/em>, but he said nothing, he hid behind the veil of silence and saw them searching him with their eyes, and he felt that they couldn\u2019t see him, because they were looking for someone bigger.<\/p>\n

At last, he spoke the words of a bar tender. \u201cWhat can I get you, lads?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBeer for me,\u201d said Up-Your-Arses.<\/p>\n

\u201cBeer for me,\u201d said One Arm.<\/p>\n

The fat one hesitated. \u201cI should have tea, but how can I have tea while they drink beer? I\u2019ll drink beer, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

And so he served them the beers and opened one for himself, and they all sipped their drinks and talked about something else, something easier for everyone, and in the space in-between there was dishonesty and repression, and out there there were the pussy-bars.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

He was jealous of them, of the immigrants, of their boldness, their adventures, but he wouldn\u2019t admit it, and he looked at them and they looked at him, and the space in-between was trapped in guilt, his and theirs.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":14037,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[1319,702,24,224,765,1317,1314,1315,751,1318,1050,927,1053,1316,879],"class_list":["post-13812","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","tag-aegean-sea","tag-alcohol","tag-bars","tag-bartenders","tag-beer","tag-egyptian","tag-fishermen","tag-greece","tag-guilt","tag-immigrants","tag-islam","tag-masturbation","tag-muslim","tag-pussy-bar","tag-small-town","writer-alexandros-plasatis"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13812","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13812"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13812\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14036,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13812\/revisions\/14036"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/14037"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13812"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13812"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13812"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}