The Jasmine Affair

[Guest]

What is it about the yardbirds and southeast asia? Although

I love the taste of yardbird that hasn't been pumped up on

synthentic steroids and been frozen for weeks like the

states, I despise the dawn wake up calls those damned

fowl make. This only added to the blinding temple pounding

reverting throughout my head.

 

I finally rolled over and wiped

away the saliva that was pooling on the pillow. Jasmine was fetal position

prone, facing away from me. What in the hell did I drink last night?

I recall the tequila at one point but knew I had probably moved onto

scotch as the rest was a blackout. I sat up and grabbed a half smoken

joint from last night. Thank god for cannabis as there is nothing like

it in the world to run away the pain, physically and most importantly,

mentally. While slowly toking away, I watched Jasmine sleep. Her

fucking beautiful golden skin "paled" in comparison to the white sheets.

Jasmine was rather tall for an asian, about 5'7". But she didnt have the

typical straight hair, hers was kinky. Kinky enough to drive me insane.

She despised it and always complained about it getting into a tangled mess.

Pretty much described our relationship. She finally opened her eyes and

mumbled something in her dialect. I kicked myself that I would never become

totally fluent with her. She once told me they have over 50 words for

coconut. Jesus, how many words do they have for shit, or pussy, or car, or

god? Fuck it, she knew english well enough and I gave up the desire to

figure her out or her friggin language.

 

"Do you want something to eat?", she asked as she got up and threw on a long

t-shirt.

 

"Sure, whatever," I said. I admired her legs as she brushed out the kinks

and split ends. Her legs were the best part about her. She grew no hair

on them and not scar in sight. My old girlfriends in the states always shaved

theirs and after a day or two, it was like sleeping with an 80-grit sandpaper.

 

Jasmine walked into the kitchen and the aroma of garlic rice was soon

in the air. Two-day old rice, recycled into one hell of a breakfast.

Does anything go to waste? No, not even the fish heads.

 

I got up went into the bathroom. The mirror reflected bloodshot eyes and, damn, did

I look like shit. I inspected my face closely. I have some broken blood vessels around

my nose. Am I getting a gin blossom? I laughed to myself as I immediately thought of

WC Fields.

 

I finally sat down at the table to get something into my stomach to soak up the ethanol.

While stuffing my face full of rice and leftover fish, Jasmine was busy on her cellphone

laughing and gossiping with her friends. For all I knew, she could be talking to her

boyfriend and telling him what an ass I am, and I would not even have a clue. I need

to go get a cup of coffee. Jasmine nodded half-heartdly and I left the apartment into

the strange world I now call home.

 

to be continued........

[bangkokbutcher]

Looking forward to part 2

[Central Scrutinizer]

AP1ST,

 

Same here! Please continue soon. I like the way this is sounding already. And yeah, I hate the damned early morning crowing myself, especially with a hangover! Gotta love those hairless legs don't you? :-)

 

Cent

[Fiery Jack]

Is this the "happily married" Jasmine that posts on this board? I always knew she was a bit of a goer. ::

 

jack

 

PS. I look forward to the next chunk too.