Status the Ninth


Rotate Clockwise


I think, therefore you are.

Opposing to all hopes, but quite expectedly, #Mac’s words became true – already tomorrow and long after, it was impossible to find #Bianca. We managed to remember that @RoughMac was provided with the unusual intuition, though not even so close to being faultless, but without possibility of convincing into opposite, The Circle considered it as being exactly of that kind. However, there was something, connected to that intuition, what frequently used to bring #Mac to the edge of despair. Had he been predicted good causes, only some of them would have really happened. On the contrary, majority of his ominous anticipations would later prove as being justifiable. It might have been very useful, and not discouraging, hadn’t #Mac despised not only the concept of Wisdom and Experience, but those words on its own as well. No matter how much Knowledge he possessed, he wasn’t fallen in love with it. During his process of learning, he was rejecting to wisely adapt to facts, but what he really wanted was to literally conquer the reality. Therefore, he was in constant arguing with the God, of whom he used to talk that it didn’t even exist, so it wasn’t clear even to him with whom he was actually arguing.

He has been taking on his clothes preparing himself to get out, moving across the bedroom like a tiger in a cage, while @TorbacJr has been waiting for him, lying on the bed as if he was shot down, but only with his head and back on it, while his legs and the rest of his body have been touching the floor. That way, he was simultaneously getting some rest and stretching his damaged backbone. Exhausted by all kinds of work, thoughts, and mostly emotions, in suchlike situations he would be slowly beginning to fall into sleep. Nevertheless, #Mac dragged him into dispute with himself, dispute in this case pretty shortened, but its headlines revealed the next content:

– And, of course, #Bianca is gone. It is not possible, well it is not possible! As if I was praying and asking God to put as many chicks as possible into my embrace, while assuring me that none of them wouldn’t turn me down. But quite opposite, I’m telling him: ”Dear God, I don’t want that what you, in your sublime deeds, are planning for me. I want just #Bianca!” It’s not like Amarcord: ”Voglio una donna”, any of them, what I really want is precisely one woman, the one and the only woman in the world. God would have any right to address me with a question: ”Why would I do that for you?”, a question upon which, not only on that occasion, I would frankly answer: ”Tell me what to do, and I’ll do anything. You’re the boss anyway!”. That’s a sheer trade, like any.

At that moment, #TorbacJr got up, looking like astounded (it is almost impossible to bring him into that state of mind), crossing himself (what he usually does only during funerals), and spoke out excitedly:

– If I had only known what the lunatic was going to recount, I would have switched on my mobile phone camera and recorded that monologue! Like Al Pacino, like Bata Stojkovic. That gene for good trading, upon which Marshalls became widely known. That gene inherited from his Grandfather and Father, he made even progress – the Descendant would now like to trade with the God directly.

– Well it is, it’s all simple, but it’s being made complicated for no reason – #Mac continued in the same tone, while expressing the same conviction.

What else could @TorbacJr have done than to laugh at what he heard.

After so many long nights and days, @RoughMac stopped thinking that #Bianca, who knows how many times in a row, was hesitating and playing games, and instead the fear for her safety slowly began to come in, the fear incomparably more evident than it was the case with the fear for his own. Therefore he wrote her a message: ”Give me a call, just to let me know that you’re alive. I’m not kidding”, but there was any answer.

His fear began to turn into panic, when all of a sudden the status of her profile emerged, which simply read: “I’m moving to New York”.

Downhearted and utterly depressed, I remember of tsunami, earthquakes and blasts within the heart and soul of our hero. What a horrible ending! Without any explanation, farewell message, without at least a secret signal sent to her admirer, the girl prepared herself to turn a new page of her life. This very status of farewell melodramatically found its connection to the status of their beginning. Namely, the first strophe of #Mac’s song ”Beautiful In Vain” read:

“I’m not a child

My life’s behind

In memories

But I could always cry

When I must say goodbye”,

entirely depicting his personality, in every of his appearances. In terms of his intellect – because he considered that the past, the present and the future represent an inseparable whole, he wasn’t simply able to go on. He knew that this love will refuse to become forgotten, and that it will just like the ones before, continue its life in every single drop of the drink he may taste, in every tone and verse of the song he may choose while driving the car, this love will be recognized at the end of some beautiful movie, or it may be on the list of order while sitting in the pub, that he will recognize this love in every of his amazed and determinantly encouraging look at the people being in love. In terms of his emotions – he was a depressed person and he’s been constantly refusing to admit that it was one of his frailties. Moreover, he’s been defending it, trying to understand it, maybe even glorified it, just like Lou Reed did, while singing about his favorite drug in the song Heroin. In terms of his soul – he never really sufficiently developed, which turned out to be quite opposite to his capabilities and natal chart. To him, spirituality was just a mere comfort, a substitute for emotional unaccomplishment. Suspecting that he might be making a huge mistake, he never really tried to find traces of spiritual vastness, having been eternally scared of the posibility to waste his already short life.

During one of these days he spent in a trice, about five o’clock in the afternoon, someone knocked on the door of his office. The very least he wanted to do then was to work, but considering that he made his clients being used to avoid visiting him in the morning hours, it was  a matter of politeness to receive them regularly, between 4pm and 8pm.

His office quite unexpectedly entered The Zero, whom he gradually became to find enjoyable.

– How did you find yourself within the boundaries of my working space? You are slowly taking it over, step by step? – asked #Mac jokingly.

– I came on a business matter – The Zero gave an answer.

– Can’t you accept that I’m not willing to make deals with The Circle?

– It’s a matter of mere relation between a client and a lawyer.

– So, among all of my famous colleagues, you’ve chosen just me?

– Don’t underestimate your reputation.

– Well then, let’s hear what is it about?

– The cause is important and urgent. We are aware that you’re rejecting to make present day agreements meant to be implemented the day after, but if you accept it, you’ll be properly awarded.

– Tell me.

– Already on the day after tomorrow, you should be finding yourself in New York.

– Ha Ha Ha, me in New York? The farthest place I found myself professionally engaged was, let’s say, Petrovac na Mlavi.

What he was thinking about was as exciting, as same as it was stupid. He’s been daydreaming that The Circle could really send him to NYC, where #Bianca’s new residence might be, or maybe it already was. An idea in itself made his face “being struck with smile”, and he could also find himself being carried away by the fateful nature of their relationship. However, in reality it was beyond any comprehension what a Serbian lawyer might be actually doing in the USA. He of course, was thinking about the job of a lawyer, because at least in theory, he might be engaging himself in drug-smuggling, or burgling the jewellery, if somebody would give him an assignment to commit such activities. His obsession of being close to his darling was even more absurd, because being close to her didn’t even help him during their staying within the same room.

While I am reading this, I’m asking myself how it’s possible that this mature man could be so childish. And what about you? Why are you silent?

– I didn’t graduate law at the Harvard University, but at the Belgrade – following the rational side of his own thoughts, @RoughMac told The Zero.

– I understand, but you’re not going to be engaged in trial over there. You are going to negotiate new investments in Serbia, and expert analyses will be in accordance with our legal system. You are going to explain to them that at this precise moment, investing in our real estate sector is much more profitable and safer than investing in Egyptian.

– If I understand you quite well, your plan is that some stranger from neverland should fly away to the centre of the world, in order to lie to world power people.

– On the contrary, you will be speaking the truth. The situation in Egypt will become dangerous very soon.

– How do you mean?

– There is no need to bother you about it.

– Well, how could I prove to them that impending danger?

– Not only that you’re not going to try to prove it to them, moreover you’re going at any cost to avoid even mentioning it.

– So, you are asking me to do something what is almost impossible.

– That’s the reason we have chosen exactly you. Anyone rational would claim that his chances of obeying such an order would be impossible.

– And that’s the only reason which gives you hope that I will succeed?

– We don’t care whether you will succeed or not. Our goal is to get some additional time. Judging by everything we know about you, and especially on the basis of your attitude you are expressing now, I’m sure that your attempts to convince them will last much longer than we initially hoped.

– What is the reason you want to get some additional time?

– While you’ll be beating around the bush over there, we will convince the Egyptian authorities that Americans hesitate and consequently, we will sign the contracts instead of them.

– But you just told me that I wouldn’t lie to them and that it would become very dangerous in Egypt.

– And it will. The heads will be falling away.

– Then, why do you want to invest there?

– We are investing only in dangerous places.

– Don’t the Americans do exactly that?

– They do by using us. It is not obvious like in cases when they do it using their national companies.

– Couldn’t they simply send some threat signals to their companies to give up?

– Of course they couldn’t. They are democracy.

– All this seems to me so illogical and completely odd. I’m convinced there are lots of people who would be much more suitable to accomplish that task than I would be.

– You are really funny sometimes. You can’t accept a fact that we have chosen just you. As if some stunning lady would like to have sex with you, but you were telling her: ”I’m sure there are numerous men who would be much more suited to do it than I would be.”

– It happened to me couple of times. But anyway, are you a stunning lady?

– Yes, we are. You will get twenty thousand dollars (half of it now, the other half after the job was done), you’ll have all the costs and daily amounts paid, you’ll be flying by a private jet, and residing in a luxurious hotel.

– That’s nothing in comparison to one million Euros you have given me once within the blink of an eye, but I haven’t seen any of it, not even a small coin.

– Everything’s changing. This time we have neither a possibility, nor a necessity to make you impressed, therefore that money we’ll rather keep for ourselves.

– And this award and all included benefits you’re offering me just for the reason you need me?

– We don’t need you. We want you to do it.

– So this time around I’m a mercenary who should accomplish a dirty job?

– That’s a definition of a lawyer.

– One of definitions. There is a wide range of my colleagues, among which many of them are fighting for justice and truth.

– Are you that kind of a lawyer?

– I’m afraid I’m not.

– That way you simply confirmed that our offering was accepted.

Just then a real official part of the conversation started, and lasted until the middle of the night.

Tomorrow evening, #Mac was already received in the apartment of Gansewoort hotel, situated on the Ninth Avenue. Shortly after, he walked away to Chelsea to have Japanese dinner in the restaurant Morimoto. He was back in the hotel much earlier than tourists would do, in order to get some good rest prior to a meeting scheduled for tomorrow.

There is no doubt that @RoughMac incessantly organized causes and events, bringing them into order, which made him feel relaxed, and in which he certainly knew how to enjoy. Only when he would find himself in complexed and uncertain situations, which demanded quick decisions and real action, in circumstances meant to be unexpected and intriguing, he would be feeling a good reason to stay alive.

Everything what happened to him after he put on that famous status was since the very beginning incredible, and moreover it’s being continued without interruption. Couple of times, #Mac was struck by an idea that he might be a victim of some reality show. In such situations he would be feeling pleasure to blemish the persons which would embrace him and in hearty manner would inform him about it, what used to be a sort of the ritual in those nutty TV shows. He would tear apart the director of the show, and then without any bluffing he would threat him with a murdering if he even tried to sue him for that. From the bottom of his heart he hated that concept of the modern society, which allows to all kinds of media and even the state itself, to intrude into someone’s privacy, although a huge satisfaction and enjoyment represented his unshaken belief that someday this concept would go to wrack and ruin. He detested the sheer arrogance of the authorities and whole variety of different powerhouses to even think that they might be above the ordinary citizens, let alone to express and conduct their arrogance with methods, at first sight much more subtle and refined than in some times gone forever. He despised even more those ordinary citizens who in all that found any lack of logic or oddity. But at the same time, he was filled with joy, because he believed that quite certainly someday, albeit not during his own life, but in the foreseeable future, times of real freedom will set in, and an individual will exercise more rights and privileges to annoy the state, and to make it being considered as quite natural, as it frankly should be. What could be more delightful than to experience disaster and humiliation of the arrogant and seemingly untouchable tyrants? The huge problem, which we will put aside at this very moment, is who would then even wish to become a politician.

Alas, there also existed a reverse side of the medal, which simply witnessed something of what any proof was needed – proof of corruption, at least the tiniest one, of every single person in this world. Let’s not forget that the main character of our story, completely depending on other persons’ cost, was proudly treading through the New York’s April night, constantly stopping on his way back from Chelsea to West Village, in order to marvel at anything what Manhattan could offer much better than any other place in the world.

At the reception he was told that there was a lady in the apartment, waiting for him.

– Which lady? – asked @RoughMac astoundedly.

– She said that you were expecting her – a receptionist answered seemingly confused.

– And it seemed enough to you?

– Well of her, at any case.

– Fuck you! – #Mac yelled in his maternal language and rushed away towards the lift.

On a sofa, drinking a glass of champagne and watching Plasma TV hanging just above the lit fire-place, there was a seated woman, but it wasn’t #Bianca as you have expected and as probably #Mac has been hoping for, instead there was seating an incredibly beautiful and hot Afro-American woman, clad in gorgeously designed yellow dress, with her legs perfectly shaped and tightly bent up to her knees, with some naughty mixture of cheeky lustiness and pure coyness simultaneously. Looking at her flat, thick hair from the top of forehead, slowly looking down at her, sensibly speaking dolly face, marked with extremely big eyes, sweet pug nose and her lips, big as much as it was just needed, looking further at her strictly upright torso, while her breasts were fantastically huge in comparison to her slender figure, gently looking her endlessly curved, mighty buttocks and strong, lengthy but widely-shaped thighs, and then looking at her brawny and unusually long calves, this visual touring, accompanied by all possible and impossible fantasies, finally ended upon her expensive black shoes, made of tight skin, with high stiletto heels.

– Good evening – an unknown woman addressed #Mac in a calm, quiet and melodic voice, while he was staring at her with his eyes wide-open.

Without waiting for an answer, she pointed her iPhone in our hero’s direction.

– I like you. I wish to take a photo of you.

At the moment, blinded by the phone’s flash, he inadvertently kept his view upon Apple logo. Momentarily and very precisely it caused various associations in #Mac’s mind. The sign of the bitten Apple, which adorns Mac computers too, here in The Big Apple, in front of this stunning woman, resembling to brilliant, juicy, yellow Apple, created to be stabbed by his sharp fangs. Although, since appearance of #Bianca and The Circle, he didn’t actually know where he was, he did manage to take command over the world, just like Nowhere Man from The Beatles’ song, who was a founder of the music label Apple Records, famous for its recognizable sliced apple, with to this New York adventure very suitable, lascivious connotations.

– You like my phone? Apple Store on the Fifth Avenue is in the vicinity of the place you should go tomorrow, so buy yourself one.

– Where do I go tomorrow? – @RoughMac asked.

– To 520 Madison Avenue.

– You’ve made a mistake. You have even missed a room in which you should have entered.

– There is no reason to bluffing, #Mac. I was chosen to meet you.

– You are a prostitute?

– Do I look like a prostitute?

– Absolutely not, at least not like those I have met, including the most expensive ones. That’s what makes me perplexed.

After the woman stood up, some enchanting, soaring, airy power began to stream out of her body, which almost blew @RoughMac away out of the apartment, from the floor, down onto the pavement, and further in the abyss. In a twist of a moment she took off her dress, threw it away on the floor, having remained completely naked, with the breast-holder, stockings and shoes only left on. His sharp eye, what he used to be nicknamed in terms of his “womanizing knowledge”, especially emphasized by his friend and bassist Foto Zec, didn’t miss to perceive a golden ring adorning the ring-finger of her left hand.

– But you are married – #Mac uttered disappointedly.

– Thank you for having informed me about it – Beauty queen gave an answer.

Her imposing breasts began their whirling dance the moment she came closer to #Mac. But she turned away, passed the sofa and went straight to the terrace. While she was slowly moving away, he felt he was possessed by the sweetest carnal pains. Her hips were delightfully swinging, her buttocks, like a steering wheel upon some safe drive for your own pleasure, has been moving in circles one moment downwards, and then in the next moment upwards, following its hypnotic rhythm, while her head and back kept completely upright position, with calves of her legs stretching and relaxing alternately, and the whole figure of hers was gently floating upon the numerous lights, coming through the windows. #Mac who was a keen admirer of contrasts, found great pleasure in watching her white stockings-belt and the fleshy-colored stockings still being left on her dark-chocolate, tightly-stretched body, as same as he was indulging in black breast-holder and black stockings contrasting upon milky-white, soft female skin. The shoes, as his favorite fetish, lengthening and stretching her almost incredibly long and tight legs, were quietly hitting the surface while giving him sign to follow.

The woman opened the terrace door, came up to the fence, leaned on it and remained in that position, while viewing into distance. #Mac got out following her, feeling even much greater excitement for the reason he remained dressed in his evening suit, while she was naked. When he kissed her back just above the left shoulder blade, she didn’t move, but her body immediately shuddered. He just managed to unbutton his trousers, while his cock popped out faster than a puppet on a string. From the inner pocket of his suit (yeah, it shouldn’t be kept there) he took out a condom and quickly placed it. He pushed hand between her thighs and upon touching her, he was pleasantly surprised by realizing that she already was sexually aroused, albeit he was amazed by her power to take full control over her own body, because he was aware that nobody, after all especially not him, would be able to make her so excited within the short period of time. Middle finger of his already wet hand was pushed determinately, as though gently into her anus, whereupon she began to moan almost silently. In a nick of time his finger was substituted by a penis, which was doggedly and carefully penetrating into her short passage straight ahead towards her abdomen. When all the obstacles were overcome, he started to penetrate deeply into her with powerful, quick, but rare movements. With one of his hand he would be casually squeezing her breast, while the other one would be dragged through her hair, and that same hand he would be putting around her waist, pulling her strongly to himself, while she would be stretching her arms backwards and squeezing his buttocks, pushing him even deeply into herself. It seemed to him that he managed to exercise upon her all existing variations of kisses, as she was crying out all possible sorts of screaming, groaning and moaning, while they were longly, longly twisted together at the balcony, while gentle breeze were touching their bodies, and not so glamorous Hoboken and a little bit farther Jersey, just across the Hudson river, were blazing in front of them. At a moment, #Mac aught a view of the middle-aged man peeping through the shiny window of the nearby building, obviously enjoying the spectacle while nodding his head approvingly. It encouraged him to continue even more willingly with his rhythmic motions and variations, in order to arouse greater pleasure of the unknown. It seemed she was doing the same, because her circular backside movements became much quicker, while suddenly she started to powerfully squeeze her own tits, raising her head and pushing it quickly back at the same time.

The moment they came in, the woman filled her glass with more of Dom Perignon and drank it all of a sudden and then rashly moved on to the bedroom. Having emptied the whole bottle, @RoughMac took off his clothes and ran after her. Out of respect for her, he threw down a condom, used in her anus, having intention to put on the new one. However, the moment he saw her again, she quickly pressed her body against his, and in a single aikido move, she knocked him down on the king size bed. Having entirely taken initiative, she straddled him over, savagely pressed his chest, impaled herself on his penis and began to move sideways in all possible directions. #Mac felt as if he had been thrown into the main helicopter’s propeller.

Having overpowered our bull with this astounding rodeo, the woman, as if she was sitting on the rolling-chair, still being on #Mac’s abdomen, suddenly turned around in a half-circled movement, all the time keeping deeply within herself, how it used to be said in the past, but not less lecherous times, his upraised stalk. Then she bent at the waist, put her hands upon his thighs just above the knees, pushed her head strongly backwards, dramatically leaned her body downwards, moved upwards her big butt, and then very slowly moved it down. She has been tirelessly repeating this rhythmic activity, circling simultaneously with that “cut-sliced apple” of hers, molded, it might be suspected, into some plastic explosive compound.

Having jumped hastily, she ran out of the room. She got back the next moment and having straddled our hero again in a position face to face, she took cocaine out of her small lady-bag and upon #Mac’s chest she made a long line of it, and all of a sudden, she sniffed it in all of its quantity. Then in a powerful sweep she fell aside and in a sort of run-up, she flung @RoughMac upon herself. She made cocaine circles around her nipples and with a blink of the eyes, she playfully gave #Mac a sign to have a taste. He exactly did it, circling lightly with his head firstly around one, and then around the other breast. Very soon they lost control over their sexual game, while it took control over them. At a moment he saw himself masturbating while being seated on the silver canopy, watching a sleeping woman floating above the bed, while dawn was secretly entering the room, #Mac has ejaculated, having heard within his head a chorus of his song “White Chocolate”:

Strange thing I’m watching at dawn

You float, your bedroom is gone

I come right into your dream

To give you white chocolate cream.

He was so proud of them having succeeded to mock gravitation force – Newton’s Apple didn’t fall down, but it remained in the air.

It has meant that the devil is mocking them, what gave an idea to @RoughMac to invite the fallen angel to join them in threesome. There was nothing what could be lost – the forbidden apple has been already brutally bitten. #Mac couldn’t even bode in which gruesome measure, as long as after making a mock of Lucifer because of the unexpected shyness, and who on earth knows how many hours of dead dream, he didn’t come to his conscience.

– Why did you sleep with me? – he asked the woman while they were having breakfast.

– Because I fuck only with those who don’t know me – the best chick in the world (anyone at that very moment would be considering her as such) gave an answer.

– I don’t get it.

– The ones who know me don’t want to fuck me.

– Oh yeah, yeah of course – #Mac said ironically.

– I’m not joking. I hadn’t been even sleeping with my husband for years.

– Why’s that for God’s sake?

– Because I’m ill with AIDS.


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *