Medusa

“Medusa.”

Jon doesn’t say much.  He’s not someone who ever has awkward silences.  His silences are the comfortable pauses between friends.  He’s a thinker.  Not that he’s overly blessed with intelligence, but he spends hours mulling over things, and when he finally does say something, it’s often worth the wait.  The problem is, sometimes he will continue a conversation from two weeks ago, and expect you to know instantly the context.

“Medusa?” I asked.

He looked at my expression of polite enquiry.

“Yeah, Medusa.”  He held his hand on top of his head and wiggled his fingers.  “You know, Medusa.  The chick with the snake hair.  Medusa.”

“Dude, I know who Medusa is.  A Gorgan, so ugly she turns men to stone.  Snakes instead of hair.  I know who she is.”  I tried to put it into context.  Had Clash Of The Titans been on TV again?

“Okay.”  Jon returned to staring into mid space as Saturday shoppers milled past us in the shopping mall.  I waited.  It doesn’t do to hurry Jon.  His brain must be a maze.  If you distract him, he might never find his way back.

“You think she shaved under her arms?” he said at last.

“What?  I don’t know.  I mean, she was Greek.  A lot of them don’t.  Anyway, the ladyshave won’t have been invented back then.  So no, dude, I don’t think she shaved her pits.”

Jon screwed up his face.  “Ew.  Gross!”

I waited, but that seemed to be all there was.  Eventually I had to ask.

“So, let me get this straight.  There’s this chick, so ugly she kills men with a look, snakes growing out the top of her head, and you think a bit of pit hair is the gross thing?”

“Well, yeah.”  He looked at me as though I were being dense.  “How many chicks have you banged?”

“What?  None of your business.”

“No, but how many?”

“Enough.”

“No way, man,  No-one ever bangs enough.”

We laughed.

“Okay, but my fair share.  What are you saying?  I’m no virgin.”  Technically, I added in my head.  Sally counted, no matter how it ended.

“Okay, but how many of them were film stars?  How many were glamour models?  How many times have you banged first class ass?”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, we’re guys, right?  Right now, we’re at the peak of our game, sexually speaking.  We’re stallions, right?  No woman’s safe.”

“Um, sure, if you say so.”

“Right.  So if a chick offered it, you’d do it, right?  Even if she’s not a movie star.”

“I guess.”

“Too right.  Even if she’s dog ugly.”

“Hey!  I’ve got some pride, you know.  Some standards.”

“Yeah, but what if you’d been marooned on an island, not seen any skirt for years, and suppose none of your friends were there to see, and suppose she was up for it, I mean she was begging you for it.  You would, right?  Any guy would.  I mean, in the dark, it’s all the same, right?”

“I guess,” I conceded, wondering what it would be like to be with a woman who made the first move.  Or even the fifth move.

“And what can you do as a last resort?  If she is dog ugly, and I mean hideous?  You could put a paper bag over her head, right?”

We laughed again, because we were guys and so cool and brave when there were no girls in earshot.

“So, okay, think about this.  You’re a Greek dude, right?  You’ve spent years on a boat, nobody around except a bunch of jocks, and you land on this island, and there’s Medusa.  You’ve not seen skirt for years, and being jocks, that’s all the guys have talked about, so you’re so randy you’re going to explode.  Paper bag time, dude.”

“What?  You’re saying he didn’t cut her head off, he banged her brains out?”

“No, no, just hypothetically.  Let’s suppose Jason or Perseus or whoever the dude was, let’s just suppose he has a bag on his person, and somehow he gets it over her head.  Now, I don’t suppose she’s seen much action over the years, and maybe she’s had a flagon or two of wine.  So there she is, she’s gagging for it, and you’ve seen the films right?  In every film she’s played by a hot actress, so she’s fit from the neck down, so you’re up for it.”

“You’ve got a sick imagination, you know that?”

“Yeah, but just go with me.  So, you decide to be a gentleman, right?  What with her being able to turn you to stone and all those snakes she can set on you and everything, so you decide to do her a favour and go for the boobs first, just to get her in the mood.”

“I thought she was gagging for it.”

“Dude, you have to go for the boobs first.  They really dig that.  So anyway, you take her top off, and what do you see?  Her pits, man!”

“Yeah, but you’re banging a chick with a bag on her head.  What’s a bit of pit hair?”

“She has snakes, right?”  Jon put his hand on his head and wiggled his fingers in a snake mime.  Then he moved his hand to his armpit and repeated the mime.

“Oh, gross!” I said, the penny finally dropping.  “Why do you think of these things?  Why would you share that with me?”

“I’m just saying, man.  No wonder she lived alone, you know?  Can you imagine that?  Snake pits?”

“I guess you’d have to keep her top on and just go straight for the prize.”

“Uh-uh.”  Jon shook his head and moved his hand to his groin, repeating the mime.

“Oh God!” I cried, jumping to my feet.  A couple of girls walking past laughed.  One of them wiggled her fingers at Jon in imitation of his snake impression.  He wiggled his fingers back, grinning, his hand still on the front of his jeans.  “Jesus, Jon, don’t tell me things like that.  Oh man, I want to burn my eyes out.  Dude, that image is going to be there now every time I’m with a chick.  Damn, I’m going to need therapy for years.  That is gross.  Gross.  Change the subject, and don’t ever, ever talk about her again, you hear?”

“Change the subject?”  He stared into space again.  “Hey, your dad remarried, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, that other Greek dude.  Oedipus.”

I turned and fled, my hands over my ears.

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About snodlander
Snodlander is the nom de plume of Bob Simms. He is an IT trainer, but it's not as glamourous as it sounds. When he's not enthralling classes with adventures through SQL Server, he writes, draws and drinks his own home-brew. Buy his novel on Amazon Kindle at The Young Demon Keeper, It's 74p, for crying out loud!

2 Responses to Medusa

  1. SNAKE PITS!! *dies* I love it!

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