Obscenity (Moderate & No Pics)

An appearance from Ja’afar last night, as usual in his case careful not to intrude, only assuming the seat after the invitation. We reverted quickly to talk of amore, as usual; the remarks at the state of his arms were let pass by Ja’afar. So, there was a new Batam gal on the scene, this one unwilling to perform the primary action and instead comforting Ja’afar by “painting.” “Painting” was OK, held Ja’afar; fair substitute. Ladies in relationships needed to quarantine the fuller intimacy, keep it sacrosanct; it was understandable, Ja’afar suggested. Ja’afar had fronted at the table with large bandages in the crook of one arm and a great bulging vein in the other. Every second day dialysis, four times a week, if the former regime, that of a couple of years ago, had not escalated since. As usual bowling up Ja’afar had delivered a big number Tom Jones that could be joined briefly in duet. Wow wow wow, wow wow. A romantic at heart like the Welshman, Jaf. (It may in fact have been the Indian Englebert. Both of these old smoothies had the colour tone as well as the big lungs that appealed to the Malay lads of the era.) Ja’afar had been widowed over ten years now and never remarried. Four or five years ago he had been camping around at the mosque overnight; since a married niece had taken him in. Niece and her husband had refused any rent; it was one of the good stories at Geylang Serai. A big bruiser pal who was hailed as he passed had some time ago extracted a debt from a chap Jaf had lent $600. There had not been violence it seems, only earnest “scolding.” Still, without the fear factor Ja’afar doubted he would ever have seen his dollars again. Was the poetic term for the circumscribed love-making one of Ja’afar’s own inventions, or was it common among the lads here? Previously it had not been heard. Ja’afar paused in answer. Ja’afar opened and closed his mouth once or twice without any word. Finally, with a Me or Mine he had claimed the kudos. A particular bar in Phuket Ja’afar recommended for writing inspiration; the name was famous he said, place packing in all-comers from all corners of the world. The feature attraction there was a chorus line of ladyboys, very beautiful many of them. High entertainment that Ja’afar could not recapitulate. Back in the day Ja’afar had visited ten and more times. Ja’afar liked painting himself now and again, he admitted, and was thereby warned to take special care he wasn’t caught by surprise in the wrong circs.