The everlasting hunt for the immortal soap
THE EVERLASTING HUNT FOR THE SOAP THAT CONSTANTLY SLIPPED MY FINGERS
Yes, Margaretha was a lot like Lady K. One time, she spontaneously started showering while I was there, with the door open. I was sleeping at the time but awoke to her body scents. I took off my clothes and headed toward the bathroom, my member already rising from 1 to 18 cm in 0.1 seconds.
"I haven't showered for 3 months." Strange, she chain-smoked often but didn't smell bad at all. All African women use Vaseline and then talcum powder all over their bodies. It's officially to protect against mosquitos, but it has a much stronger effect.
I remember Lwazi. She used to be a slave to a Swedish farmer in Zimbabwe. I looked her up online and it said she was 81—not a single wrinkle. I told her, "No white woman can be as beautiful as you." I treated her to an El Diablo hotdog at Pressbyrån. I got the bread and she took the meat.
She had said she ached for real meat, though. So when I got out, I quickly bought a pork chop and cooked it with cheese, cream, tomato sauce, thyme, garlic, and two onions. She had been in closed psychiatric care for years. I told her to eat amongst us, and she replied, "Yes, I have to, or they'll say I'm depressed."
But when I got there, they said she had been released an hour ago. I met her some years later next to LIDL. Then, I couldn't stand her scent even though I couldn't feel it. Probably dried blood from a shotgun wound. Voodoo (hoodoo) can heal anything. She said she'd often seen me getting off the bus, but I moved so fast she had no time to catch me.
One day, I figured I'd call her up in the middle of the night, while wanking, as I've noticed that women always answer directly at that time. Every time. Foolproof. Her dude answered and gave her the phone. She uttered, "Is it sunshine already?" We didn't talk for long.
The next time we met, I didn't recognize her, but she directly called me "Sofia." Turns out she had lost a foot and gained some pounds, had jewelry on both ears, and had come out as a lesbian.
The non-smell I've noticed in other people. Basically, you drink so much that your lymphatic system gets jampacked with alcohol. Then you take radioactive iodine, and you're scent-free.
Margaretha slept with everyone but pretended not to. Every woman I've done it with has been the same. But I'm desperate and haven't acted so nice to girlfriends before, so I let it be.
I didn't dare to look at Maggie in the beginning, so I just slowly walked toward her while hanging my head in shame. As I bumped into her, I noticed she had a thick layer of dead skin cells all over her body.
I told her I'd buy her natural olive soap from INDISKA to get rid of it all, and she implied I should go there directly. So I redressed and took the commuter train to STOCKHOLM CENTRAL.
I walked to Hötorget, but I couldn't find the shop. It had started snowing, and several times I thought about giving up. Didn't know who to ask, so I warmed myself a bit at PUB's entrance. There were two chicks chit-chattering there, and I asked them.
"OH, IT'S TO THE LEFT."
I began walking and looking around, but no shop was there to see. I asked another couple.
"IT'S AT ODENPLAN."
"OK, awesome," I thought, and took the subway there. I walked around aimlessly even longer. It was getting dark, and the snow had started melting, so it was soggy goo everywhere.
I didn't have winter shoes or proper clothes, and I was wet from head to toe. I entered SUBWAY sandwiches and asked the staff.
"IT'S RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET."
The snow-rain was clogging up, and I tried to jump over a puddle at the crossroads, slipped, and now I was 100% inundated.
Oh, it was right there, but the lights were off. Turns out, there was only one single INDISKA shop left in all of Stockholm.
I looked around inside. No staff. I figured I should yank something, but my conscience said no.
Finally, a staff member appeared, and I asked about the soap.
"WE STOPPED PRODUCING THAT AGES AGO, BUT WE HAVE A SOAP HOLDER AVAILABLE ONLINE."
Sigh, I ended up buying two presents for SARA: some nice scented soap and a red berries tea. I got it packaged and headed home.
It was two hours to midnight when I could finally shower. Just before I got in the door, the paper bag fell apart, but the contents were still intact. Just my luck.
The next day, I went to the mall and sent the package. It cost 538 kr since I didn't want it to disappear, and both SECURE SHIPPING and SMS NOTIFICATION were silly expensive.
Lady K was still living in Malmö close to SARA then, and I got to hear a week later that she had said:
"I DON'T WANT ANY MORE GIFTS."
Perfect...
Now it's two years later. I am paralyzed in the legs, and neither Lady K, the staff, nor Miss Economy wants to buy that stupid fucking soap online for me from another shop I eventually found, even though it only costs 50 kr.
Maggie actually used to live close by a year ago when I was already damaged. I could never recall her phone number, though.
She was a mix of myself, Lady K, and Bella. She let me jabberwocky for hours, only to interrupt me mid-sentence with the same strange talk. But she was open-minded and outspoken, so it was incredible, and I didn't need to take any meds when I was with her, and I barely had anxiety either.
I am still fighting it and wish I could see her again, but it feels hopeless.
av Tommy Mnemonic (ris och ros)
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