I know none of you are going to like what I’m about to say, but it has to be discussed openly and frankly. When I was ending Part Four I had a choice, to either end it the way I did or continue on for about another page or so to cover what I will refer to as the “Garlic Bread Revenge.” Since I elected to end on a somewhat higher note with MBL waiting to grab Fernando and interrogate him, I have to start this Part covering a rather distasteful topic—intestinal distress. Come on guys, we’re amongst friends and as always any of my bathroom stories will be handled in a mature, delicate and sensitive manner. What is this my third bathroom story this trip? Yeah, the plane then Sandman’s so this makes three. Look at it this way, after this one’s out of the way I’m halfway through the potty stories.
Shortly after MBL starts her subtle interrogation of me I start to feel a slight discomfort in the lower abdomen that continues to get more uncomfortable with each passing minute. Within 15 minutes I realize that this is going to be an event not suitable for a public bathroom such as the one in Meia Pataca etc. I quickly excused myself and told MBL that I would be back in a few minutes then ran back to the apartment. Fortunately, I made it home without having an accident on the way and I am pleased to say that it was not quite as a horrible experience as I anticipated. Essentially, the garlic bread did exactly the same thing as Wolf's birthday present did for me last year. Whoever heard of anybody giving something called "Colon Enhancer” as a birthday present? It says that it’s gentle acting, but that’s not a very accurate description of how it works. I must admit it did help me lose 10 pounds in two days and I now know what childbirth feels like.
I rushed back to the beach and find Fernando sitting in my chair chatting away with Miss Bubble Lips. When he sees me coming he gets up and pretends that he is working to mislead me. MBL is just sitting there with a sly smile on her face and I'm waiting for her to spring a trap on me sometime within the next hour. I tell her that I must've had some bad food at lunch yesterday when Don and I were looking for apartments and once again she just smiled and nodded. "Where did you eat?" "I don't know someplace over by where we were looking at those apartments I told you about," I replied. "What did you eat?" "I don't know some chicken dish with rice," was all like to come up with on short notice. "Since we've been talking about food, I'm getting hungry, let's go Meia Pataca's for lunch," she asked?
You have to understand that both Lurch and Fawn know that I frequent Meia Pataca so going there for lunch is not in my best interests. I tell her we should try another place, but she readily deflects my objection by saying, "you had your way with me last night and again this morning, all I want to do is have a nice lunch at Meia Pataca's." I reluctantly relented and kept on finding excuses to get up and leave the table. First, I had to run around the corner to see if any of my friends were at The Office, next I had to go the bathroom and finally, I had to go inside to check the scores on ESPN. By the time she's finished with lunch, I'd spent about two minutes sitting outside with her. As we were leaving, she commented that I appeared a little nervous today. "No honey just a little sick to my stomach."
Within 45 minutes of returning to the beach she started in with the questions. "How was your sister?" "Why are you asking about my sister, I replied? "Because you spent three days with her," she stated. "I did?" "I mean, I did and we had a wonderful time in New Orleans, it's really a beautiful city," was my clumsy reply. "How did you get from New Orleans to Rio?" "I flew through Miami on TAM Airlines and got here very late on Monday evening, "I confidently replied. "So you got in late at night on Monday evening," was all she said. "Yup," was all I said and the questioning ended as quickly as it started.
I knew that Fernando had spilled the beans because he avoided me all afternoon and was even reluctant to come over to me when I wanted to settle up. I actually think he gave me a discount that day, but since his prices are all over the place, I'm not certain of that. Regardless of what he said to MBL, I was going to stick by my story and never admit to anything. After all, I had Don as part of my alibi and he was more believable than Fernando, wasn't he? On the way back to the apartment we stopped at the supermarket and bought about R$80 worth of food because I promised to cook her dinner one night and tonight was as good as any. We got a great piece of fillet for less than R$9, potatoes for baking, lettuce for salad and a lot of ancillary things such as spices, butter, coffee, cream etc.
We got home and the first thing MBL says is, “What’s that horrible smell?” I blamed it on the garbage can and she checked it and informed me that it wasn’t what was stinking up the apartment. I unpacked all the groceries and kept me mouth shut. She then went into the bathroom and came out gagging. “Must be a sewer line backed up somewhere, remember we live right across from the favela,” was my quick response. I just stayed in the kitchen and washed the potatoes.
I went to go turn on the oven to preheat it before I put the potatoes in, but I couldn't quite find the oven. "Where the fuck is it?" "Where's what," she asked? Exasperated I said, "The oven, how can I bake potatoes without an oven?" I'll be damned, Sandman didn't have an oven and from what MBL told me many homes in Brazil just don't have one. The reason I wanted to bake potatoes is because it's real easy and not a lot of work. As you guys already know, I'm pretty lazy and the thought of doing anything exotic with the potatoes tonight was out of the question. "Honey, we’re going out for dinner," was all I needed to say to get her excited. "But honey, before we leave you have the fuck my brains out, it's on my list and not crossed off yet," was all I needed to say to get me excited.
After we screwed our brains out, MBL wanted to go back to her apartment to get some clothes and toiletries. She came down to lobby with two big shopping bags full of clothes that we took back to the apartment. I took a quick shower and as I was climbing out she came into the bathroom, showed me a bar of soap that she brought along to save herself the embarrassment of having another sore pussy this trip. She must've thought I'd deliberately tortured her on the last trip because as she showed it to me she said, "this soap doesn’t hurt me."
We dined at an upscale restaurant right along Avenue Atlantica called Copa Café that is located several doors down from the Rio Othon Hotel. This is one of the restaurants that MBL royally fucked up back in August. We went there twice and both times caused a commotion and tonight was going to be no different. Lots of waiters, wine stewards and finally two managers came out to enhance our dining experience and stare at her tits. The place is usually full of quite a few well-heeled couples and it's not a place I would suggest you take somebody with questionable table manners. Simply put, if the girl you're with looks like a whore or wear skimpy clothes, you won't be allowed in. On the other hand, if you're with a girl who's absolutely gorgeous, well-dressed, fucks like a bunny and has read Amy Vanderbilt' s book on etiquette, be sure to take her there because you’ll love the experience, the excellent food and she will fuck your brains out when you get home. Also, the staff will treat her like a queen.
Shortly after dinner Miss Bubble Lips starts to complain about around her underarms swelling and hurting like they did back in August and I immediately assume that her new bar of soap is the culprit. As usual, I'm wrong one more time. Fortunately, lying on the beach all day and interrogating Fernando has taken its toll on her and she’s starting to get tired so I suggest we go back to the apartment and go to bed. Originally, she wanted to go to Help tonight, but with both Lurch and Fawn in the area I didn't want to go anywhere near the place. That's why I reluctantly let her eat at Meia Pataca’s this afternoon; I was using it as a bargaining chip. Just in case she wanted to go to Help tonight I was prepared to say something like, "We ate were you wanted to for lunch and I just don't feel like going to Help tonight." See, I can plan ahead every once in awhile.
By the time we get to the apartment she's really complaining about both armpits hurting a lot and I suggested that her soap is to blame. She told me that she been using the soap for years and that something else is responsible for this problem. At that point she picked up my deodorant and blamed it for her rapidly swelling under arms. "Did you use that today," I asked accusingly? "Yes, but this is different from the one you had on the last trip," she said sheepishly.
"No shit," I said. "The one I had on my last trip was a Mitchum solid stick underarm deodorant and, although this one is a different shape it is a Mitchum role on deodorant. It's made by the same fucking company! Honey, although they look different they are practically identical and now you have the same problem you had in August." I pretended like I was upset, but I was thrilled at this pleasant turn of events that kept me out of Help tonight. "Let's see Honey, what's left on my list today." Only one item left on it and it says -- fuck.
The next morning I get up early to take my daily walk down to the Marriott to get my New York Times Digest, stop for coffee at that shop that rips me off then around 9 a.m. mosey over to The Office for their delicious American breakfast. For R$15 you get a fantastic breakfast consisting of scramble eggs, both bacon and sausage, toast and just as you're finishing all that, they bring you a small waffle. Oh, by the way, coffee and juice are also included. It served from between 9 a.m. to 11:30 a.m. and I was bound and determined to get MBL over there one morning to join me. Obviously, she wouldn't be there around 9 a.m., more likely around 11:30 a.m.
As I'm leaving, I first peek out the door to make sure that kid is not over at the kiosk getting his knife sharpened again and then proceed down the street towards the apartment. Ahead I see the barbershop next to the Hotel Dubret and briefly think about getting another shave there like I did back in March. On that trip I met Don for the first time at Terrasco during lunch and he commented that he just had a great shave around the corner. Man, I haven't had a great straight razor shave in years so I asked him where I could get one. He told me to go to Alcazar, turn right and it's located next to the Hotel Dubret. After lunch I walk down the street, went in the barbershop and was soon to experience one of the scariest moments of my life.
There are five barbers in the place and one was free, he had the fourth chair in, so I sat down in his chair, relaxed and waited for my first hot towel to soften my beard. The place was crowded with locals watching a soccer game on a wall mounted TV in the back corner of the shop. Before I could complain about not getting a hot towel first, the guy was lathering me up with a cold boars brush and started shaving me with an extremely sharp straight razor. Apparently the soccer game was a grudge match against two local teams and everybody was screaming and yelling at the set so I just closed my eyes and let the barber shave me.
At one point he stopped with the razor on my upper lip and it stayed there for approximately 15 seconds before I open my eyes to see what was going on. He was almost turned completely around looking over his right shoulder to watch the soccer match with the fucking straight razor firmly resting on my upper lip. I couldn't say a word or I would be a hare lip in a second; I just closed my eyes and prayed for the next 30 seconds till he started shaving me again. I strongly suggest nobody get a shave during a soccer match. You have been warned! Yeah, I could go in there again, what could possibly go wrong?
When I get back to the apartment MBL is up early unpacking her clothes and settling right in. I told her that I planned to get a shave after the beach and explained what happened on my first and only visit to the barber shop. I told her I wanted her to tell them that I wanted one hot towel before the shave and one at the end. Also I wanted them to use hot water with the lather, not cold water like the last time. She understood exactly what I wanted or so I thought. We got in our suits and walked to the beach so that she could query Fernando some more.
As we left the apartment I lit up a cigar and the fucking lighter went into flame thrower mode, shooting a flame out about 9 inches. A strong acrid smell filled my nostrils as I realized that I had inadvertently singed all my nose hair. The worst fucking thing about it was I couldn’t get rid of that smell for about three hours. Luckily we were only a block away from the store where I bought it, we went there and they gave me a new lighter. The shop owner complained about the quality of them and said they were made in China, not Brazil. I thought that was funny because the Chinese guy who sells the exact same lighter on the beach complains about them too, but he claims they’re made in Brazil not China. Go figure?
As we get to the beach we are greeted by Fiscal, Fernando's partner, who informs me that Fernando is busy with other duties on the beach and that he will help us today. Clearly, Fernando is avoiding me. Within a few minutes I watch Fiscal go over to a girl lying on her chaise lounge and start rubbing her with oil. MBL once told me that these guys get paid to do it and I didn't believe her, so I called Fiscal over and asked him if, in fact, he did get paid for his services. The lucky bastard told me that he gets paid between R$5 and R$10 to rub lotion over hot babes. I told Miss Bubble Lips that I would do it for free and she hit me. She's getting a little "touchy" on this trip; it is beginning to disturb me.
At around three we decided to leave the beach and go to "The Office" for hamburger. Unfortunately, I was the only one that got the hamburger, MBL ordered fillet as usual. After lunch I told MBL that I wanted to get a shave and we walked down "salad alley" to barbershop next to the Hotel Dubret. I reminded her of what she needed to tell them about the hot towels and she nodded in agreement. When we went inside, the first three chairs were occupied; at the fourth chair was the same guy who almost killed me on my first trip there, so I walk to the barber waiting at the last chair. MBL put her hands on her hips and went into about a 45 second tirade in Portuguese. Everybody in the shop looked stunned, someone used the remote to turn off the TV, and the guy at the fourth chair slinked away into the back room.
Since I was already in the chair I called her over to ask her if she'd told them about the hot towels. With that she went into another 30 second discourse and the barber nodded his agreement. As directed, he started with a nice hot towel followed by hot lather and then he gave me one of the closest shaves I've ever had. After he was finished the first shave, I got another hot towel, more hot lather and he did the final shave. As I'm relaxing after the second shave, he gave me a final hot towel and indicated that I should just relax for a few minutes. He then came over with a scissors and indicated that he was going to trim other "man hair" on my face such as nose hair and those little suckers that are in your ears. With a towel on my face I couldn’t really see what was going on, but I heard him say something to Miss Bubble Lips.
She said something in return and he put down a scissors because I could hear them being placed on the counter. He then came over to me and said two words: "bling, bling?" Sure, I was game for whatever that meant, but it wasn't quite what I expected. All of a sudden he grabbed my head pushed it over to left, lifted the towel and started "bling, blinging." This was one of most painful things I have gone through in my life because what he was doing was using a pair of tweezers to individually pluck the hairs out of my right ear. Holy shit, I didn't realize ear hair had fucking roots that long. When he plucked out the first one, I not only felt pain in my ear, but also in my jaw. After what seemed a lifetime, he finally stopped and I thanked God that this torture was finally over. Unfortunately, I was wrong as usual.
He then turned my head to the right as he was walking around the barber chair and I wondered what the hell he was up to. In a few short seconds, my question would be answered. That's when I realized that I have two ears and he's only halfway through his job. To make matters worse, I was to soon learn that my left ear is the hairy one. Oh my God, when he pulled out the first one I felt pain in my left shoulder. How long are the roots of these things? With each tug I squeezed the armrests and bit my tongue to stifle my screams. I remember thinking, how long can this go on and it seemed like an eternity. After he was finished attacking the jungle inside my ear, he then directed his attention to the little peach fuzz on the outside of my ear. I was surprised to learn that those little suckers hurt almost as much when they get pulled as the ones inside my ear.
I was just praying that he wasn't going to go up my nose with those tweezers and, fortunately, God heard that prayer. He took my towel off, slapped on some aftershave and as I got out of the chair my knees buckled from all the pain I've endured. MBL was just sitting against the wall with a magazine on her lap and a big shit eating grin on her face. I looked at my watch and I realized that this guy had taken almost a half hour shaving me, but then figured that he really only shaved me for half of that time, the rest was spent cleaning out my ears. My bill was R$7 and I gave him a R$1 tip.
As I was wobbling out of the shop MBL asked me if he did everything right and I asked her to feel my face. She said, "So that's what he meant." "What are you talking about," I asked her? She then proceeded to tell me that after the barber was finished shaving me he said to her, "his face looks like a baby's bottom." Then she said, "He must've meant that your face feels like a baby's bottom, but come to think of it, it looks like one too." Fuck you Sweetheart!
I needed a drink after that experience and Alcazar was only 100 feet away. Don was there having his afternoon tea so we sat down and joined him. As I was relaxing and decompressing over a beer I asked MBL what she said to the barber when we first entered the shop. She told me that she instructed them to turn off the TV because of what happened during my last visit. Holy shit! "Don't tell me you told them about the soccer match," I asked. "But of course," was her reply. She then went into a lengthy explanation about dealing with Brazilians and that if you didn't put your foot down immediately bad things can happen. "How would you classify having your ear hair pulled out one by one-- good or bad?" “Good, because your ears are very clean,” she replied. Obviously, we both had radically different views on what constitutes good or bad. Then I had one more question for her, “Why didn’t he trim my nose hair?” Actually she had a rather simple explanation, “I told him you trimmed them this morning with your lighter.” The more I think about it, I’m positive she’s either trying to kill me or get me committed. I haven’t quite figured out which one yet, but I will soon.
That night we meet Don at Alcazar for a few beers and then we go over to Terrasco for a few more before going in to Help. As were sitting outside there's an American at the next table and I start up a conversation with him. He tells me he's in the "stone business" and that reminded me of my very first trip to Rio last September when I met two Americans in almost the exact same place and they too were in the "stone business." They were going on and on about pricing and the availability of what they referred to as “Brazilian stones" and finally I decided to join the conversation, which now that I look back on it, was not the smartest thing to do.
Since I'd recently done an extensive renovation of my house, complete with a new kitchen, I told them that my kitchen is loaded with "Brazilian stone." They looked at me like I was absolutely crazy and one of them said, "Could you explain what you're talking about?" "Sure, I just redid my kitchen and all my countertops are Brazilian Verde granite with bull nosed edging," I said, trying to sound intelligent. "We're not talking about granite, we're talking about precious and semi precious Brazilian stones such as emeralds, diamonds etc. I felt like a fool that day, which I was, but I was bound and determined that I would not make the same mistake with this guy. I immediately discussed with him everything I knew about Brazilian semi precious stones, where they're mined, ranges of market prices etc. He let me go on for about five minutes, put up his hand to signal for me to stop, looked at me and said, "I'm down here to buy marble and granite." Oh shit!
We go into Help, I stop and buy only two beer tickets because I don't want to linger long just in case Lurch is in the area. I'm scanning the area nervously looking for someone who's a whole head taller than everyone else and when I don't see Lurch anywhere I start to relax. As we approach the bar MBL tells me that she rarely comes into Help and with that one of the bartenders comes over and says to her, "Your usual?" She says no, she's drinking beer tonight and she's polite enough to introduce me to him, but he has one of those Portuguese names that go in one ear and out the other immediately.
MBL has to go to the ladies room, so I decide to take a quick tour around the place just to make sure that Lurch isn't sitting down anywhere. Sure enough, I go through the entire place and she's nowhere to be seen. By the time I finish looking around I am by the ticket booth at the back of Help and I get in line behind some girl talking to the cashier. I wait for about 30 seconds and suddenly the girl stands up and who the fuck is it -- none other than Lurch right in front of me.
She was bent over on her elbows talking in the girl and I wasn't smart enough to recognize her. I damn near shit my pants and wonder why these things always happen to me. Lurch looks at me, smiles, kisses me on the cheek, raises three fingers on her right hand, touches her belly with her left hand and says something that sounds like, "Tres Mensa!" My knees start to buckle because, although I don't speak Portuguese, I'm sure I understand exactly what she's saying, "she's three months pregnant!" "Oh fuck, how can this possibly happen to me again?"
A few seconds later I started to get nauseous and then I began to come to my senses and remember that I haven't seen her since last January. It can't be me! She called over one of her girlfriends who spoke a little English and she explained to me that Lurch said that her period would end in three days and wants to spend some time with me. Oh shit, where the fuck is MBL? I just nod, smile and excuse myself to go find MBL before she finds me. If these two girls meet I'm dead, so I feign a terrible migraine headache to get Miss Bubble Lips out of there fast. As were leaving MBL tells me I look very nervous. "No, just in a lot of pain, you can't imagine how much!" "Really," then she gave me a big grin.
The next day after lounging around on the beach for a few hours, we decided to go for a walk to Ipanema then back to the apartment. As were walking along the sidewalk in Copacabana a little kid comes up to me, grabs me by the hand and takes me over to a billboard near the 5 km lifeguard station. The kids real little and he says he can't push the green button and he asks me to do it for him. Above and below the button are little cutouts which apparently cover speakers of some sort, meaning that this must be a talking billboard. As soon as I push it I know I'm not going to like what's about to happen next because the kid and his three friends step back a few feet. Out from the speaker cutouts sprays a fine mist soaking me completely and causing the kids to squeal in delight.
MBL is just standing there with a great big grin on her face. Then she started laughing and said, "I know why you get into trouble always." "You do! Tell me why." "You have a bad glow around you," was her concise scientific observation. "No shit, I know that, is there anything more," I asked? "No, just a bad glow!" Big fucking help she is!
I tell her that I will cook dinner tonight, get out a potato peeler and ask MBL to peel the potatoes. She looks at me and says, "What is that thing?" I tell her that it used to peel potatoes and she looks at me like I'm deranged. She reaches into a drawer, grabs a sharp knife and tells me that she prefers a regular knife. "Whatever," I say as I go into the bedroom to take off my damp clothes. She proceeds to stand at the sink and peel the huge baking potatoes while I relax in front of the TV for a few minutes. When she's done, she calls me over and I'm shocked at what I see. Three quarters of the potatoes are gone with the peel and all that's left are about 10 small round potatoes in the sink.
We're going to need more potatoes, so I get dressed, make a list and walk to the supermarket around the corner. You have to understand that I live right across from a favela and it's actually quite safe in this area. The "chief" of the local favela won't allow anyone from his favela to commit a robbery in the immediate vicinity because it would bring undue and unwanted police attention. Despite his edicts, some petty crimes exist in the area, but these are usually committed by criminals from other favella's. Half a block away from my apartment, at the corner of Copacabana Avenue there is usually a police van parked with at least three to four policemen stationed there to at least have some police presence in the area as a show of strength.
The entrance to the supermarket is located about 30 feet from where the police park their van so I feel very comfortable walking in the area. I buy several bottles of wine, some cream to make mashed potatoes, more baking potatoes and a few other things that totals R$50.40. I pay the pretty cashier, she smiles at me and I depart. Right on the corner about 20 feet from the four policemen who were standing by their van, a little old lady falls down. She reminded me of that lady in a commercial where the old bitch falls and says, "Help me, I've fallen and I can't get up." I put down my four plastic bags of groceries and helped her get up.
The cops break into laughter and as I turned to find out what was going on behind my back, I see a teenager running down the street with my four bags of groceries. I turned back to see if the lady's okay and she's doing 100 yard dash in the opposite direction, at a pretty fast clip I might add. The cops think that this is great entertainment; I just shrugged my shoulders and thank God that I didn't get knifed.
Actually the worst part of the story is about to come as I go back in the store and buy exactly the same things as I did before. When I approached the counter, the pretty cashier smiled at me with a puzzled look on her face and is even more confused as I put down R$50.40 to pay for my stuff before she's even started to ring me up. Sure enough, I'm accurate right down to the exact centavo and this confuses her even more, but since I don't know Portuguese I can't possibly explain what just happened. I can only say that if another little old lady falls down in front of me, I'm going to kick the bitch.