Read Online Young and Revolting: The Continental Journals of Nick Twisp by C. D. Payne - Free Book Online Page B

North bitch!”
    I bristled. If these cretins thought they were going to insult my wife in our own home, they had another thing. . .
    “ Yes, North Beach,” nodded Sheeni. “We often go there. Don’t we, Nickie?”
    “ Er, not lately that I recall.”
    “ Nickie, these nice fellows have given us free tickets to their circus. We’re going tomorrow evening.”
    Uh-oh, I seem to recall a previous engagement. Damn!
    “ Make like ball,” said Bernardo, flopping on the floor. “We tumble you.”
    “ Sorry, some other time,” I replied, as the other brothers dropped down and poised with their legs thrust obscenely in the air.
    “ Really,” I insisted. “I just had a heavy breakfast.”
    But the brothers and my once loving wife would not be denied. I gripped my knees tightly, tucked in my head with its delicate brain, and was twirled about in the air and tossed back and forth by my sadistic neighbors.
    Just another sunny day in Paris, France!
     
    SUNDAY, May 30 — Another beautiful morning. No wonder tourists are descending on this burg in unstoppable hordes. As a harried resident, I can’t help but wish they’d go someplace else. I hear Vienna is nice. Since no one was up for church, we decided to go to our local flea market, the Puces de Vanves. Sheeni declared she “couldn’t live one more day” without a cheese grater. An odd craving, I thought, since I do 98 percent of the cooking and have yet to feel the need to pulverize cheese. Madame Ruzicka requested we keep our eyes peeled for a “parrot muzzle.” A jest? It’s hard to tell with brusque old ladies.
    Alphonse drove us all in his Twingo. Since I invited Señor Nunez to accompany me as my designated haggler and change checker, we were more than usually cramped. My Love claimed the front seat to coddle her toe. Although height challenged, Señor Nunez is more than a little broad in the beam. To accommodate him, Babette was obliged to sit almost in François’s lap. This enforced propinquity to her concentrated Welsh femininity I did not find at all objectionable. She smelled wonderfully enticing and her lovely neck, just inches from François’s famished lips, cried out for nuzzling. Quite stimulating, but I was spared an embarrassing T.E. as my prostate is still prostrate from yesterday’s exertions.
    One good thing about shopping with a dwarf is that you could look like Elvis himself and no one would notice. All eyes are on the short guy. This despite the fact that Señor Nunez was dressing conservatively today in a rugby shirt and blue bermudas. He and Alphonse competed for the title of most outrageous flirt in our party. They chatted up all the pretty sellers, while single-minded François concentrated on the winsome Babette. We had a fine time feigning excitement over the many peculiar items offered for sale.
    “ Ooh, a framed photo of Charles de Gaulle,” she cooed. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been needing one of these.”
    “ Very nice,” I agreed. “And here’s a rusty carpet beater for you. Just the thing to use on poor Alphonse.”
    I bought a frighteningly sharp German-made butcher knife for future fish decapitations. My Love unearthed a passable cheese grater, which the elderly vendor priced at a hefty E7. Señor Nunez came to the rescue and negotiated the price down dramatically. He persuaded the seller to toss it in as a bonus when he bought an old tambourine. The shrewd negotiator scored both for a mere E5, which he celebrated by performing an impromptu dance with his tambourine.
    The guy does know how to attract a crowd. According to Reina, he’s quite famous in his profession.
    A display of used baby clothes brought a serious aside from Babette.
    “ Rick, if your wife is having a baby, she ought to go to a clinic for prenatal checkups.”
    “ I wish you’d tell her that, Babette. She won’t listen to me.”
    Later I noticed those two engaged in earnest conversation while trying on shoes at a booth that sold