Nymphomation(9)

‘So reduce her rent, Father. She’s only a poor student. An orphan.’

‘And how’s your studying coming on, Jazir?’

‘It’s coming on fine, Father.’

‘I hear it’s coming on dreadful. According to your latest report.’

‘I’m trying my best, Father, but all I want to do is sell my wares; just like the family has always done.’

‘You know I want you to go to the university next year. What have you learned yet?’

‘I’ve learned that maths is poetry, and that in the calculus, as y approaches 1, x approaches infinity.’

An old and very well-known equation. Because Jaz hadn’t being paying attention to his latest lessons; after all, he already knew everything he needed to know. But it was enough to get his father going.

‘Good! Now you keep quiet! You shut up! And take that hat off!’

‘But Father, aren’t you understanding this equation?’

‘No, I’m not understanding, and that’s very good. I’m wanting my sons to know more than I do.’

Jazir took off his hat, revealing the glossy hair.

‘Now take those glasses off, please. It’s not sunny in here.’

Jazir took off his sunglasses, revealing the dark, mischievous eyes.

‘Now you go and serve table nine, right this second!’

‘Yes, Father. Table nine.’

Jazir stored his hat and glasses in his locker, slicked some more coconut oil through his dark-night hair. Back to the kitchen. He picked up a Dhansak, and also a Korma from the hotplate, and then carried them deftly through the swing doors. He deposited them in front of a loving couple, and then took an order from another table: three Chicken Baltis and a Lamb Madras. Meanwhile, the medical students were braying for their food, goaded on by the leader. ‘Where the fuck are our curries?’ cried Nigel Zuze.

‘Very next thing, your meals are delivered. We’re making them very special, sir. Very spicy! Are you sure that sir can take it, sir?’

‘I can take the devil’s arsehole! Now bring it quick!’

‘Coming up super quick, kindest sir.’

Meanwhile, the restaurant was buzzing, chock-a-block with losing students and the various other spicehounds, causing Jaz to rush between the tables, taking the orders and delivering, keeping all the punters happy. Whilst also keeping a small place free in his mind for some delicious thoughts about the young girl upstairs. Oh my dearest Daisy Love, how upon this earth can I get to your caresses?

Into these secret desires came the latest hit song by Frank Scenario:



I’ve got that woman’s taste in my mouth,

Making me play the dominatee.

Playing my bones along with Lady Luck,

Wherever she may take me.





At first Jaz thought a stray pop blurb had flown in, and he was all set to swat the pest, until he saw that it was only Joe Crocus gliding into the Golden Samosa, singing the song alive and aloud for all the curry punters to hear, and harmonized by his acolytes, DJ Dopejack and Sweet Benny Fenton. Jaz welcomed them all with a trayful of complementary poppadoms and chutneys.

Regular customers. Jaz was thrilled that such a great student had chosen to adorn his father’s restaurant. Jaz had friends at the university, and it was well known that Joe Crocus could make the numbers dance like crazy. ‘Did you have any luck tonight, sir,’ asked Jazir of Joe, ‘on the dominoes?’

‘The good Cookie Luck was sleeping, alas.’

‘Alas and alack, myself the same. And a very good evening to you, Sweet Benny.’

Benny gave him a wink. Jazir gave it back. Whilst the Dopejack just threw a smile into his menu. Even Jaz had to admit that Dopejack was a most excellent DJ, cooking the latest neo-cool tunes like a top chef, but apart from that… Jaz hated the man. Jazir fucking hated him! Simply because the DJ was the university’s supposed best student of Applied Physics, which was Jaz’s natural subject, the making of strangeness. They were both working at the same equation: how to make a computer give up its inner secrets. Info-jealousy, for sure, but did the student have to be so ugly, and did he have to dye his hair that hideous green colour, just to prove a point? Trying to prove what? Some kind of ugly weirdness? Dopejack was closer to Joe Crocus than Jaz could ever be, unless he joined the learning race.

‘An interesting result, nonetheless,’ said Joe, ‘on the game tonight.’

‘In what way, sir?’

‘Call me Joe, please. Well, it’s the first time a blank’s come up. We all know that the double-blank is a nasty.’

‘Joker Bone!’ Benny shivered even just saying the words.

‘But I’m wondering about the consequences of winning a half- blank.’