105. One finger, one thumb.

I was walking past a print press. It was running itself.

The lads who should have been checking ink, print, paper and speed were crowded around a mobile phone, hur hur hur-ing and scratching their bollocks.

I kept walking.

“Oi, Luci!”

I pretended not to hear.

“Luci, you fucking puff! Come over here!”

I couldn’t pretend I didn’t hear that.

I walked over.

“What is it.” I really wasn’t in the mood. I’ve got a problem with mobile phones. When I was a kid I dreamed of having a mobile communicator you could ring your friends with, see films on, actually see the face of the person you’re talking to. And now we have them. The thing is, once a miracle becomes reality, it’s no longer a miracle.

Everything becomes mundane once you introduce a tariff.

It’s like X-Ray Vision. This power would be pretty near the top of the super power list, but if it suddenly became reality, you could have X Ray vision for £29.99 a month, then people would just grumble about how expensive it is and just use it to look at the tits, cocks and fannies of everyone around them.

So the mobile phone has ceased to become a miracle and is now a pocket porn dispenser.

The bloke who called me over was Cyclops, a big, knuckle dragging fuckwit. He was swiping a thick, dirty finger across the screen of the phone, tilting it this way and that, showing pictures to his mates.

“Here, Luci, get a load of that!”

He shoved the phone under my nose.

“What is that? I can’t make out what the fuck I’m supposed to be seeing there, Cyclops.”

“That’s coz you’ve probably never seen a fanny before, you fucking puff! Huh huh huh!”

I looked again. A blurred expanse of white flesh. A pink, sagging slit. Sore looking. Chipped nail varnish on fingers dragging it open.

I grimaced. “Lovely.”

“That’s not all I got. Look at this. *swipe* And this. *swipe* And what about that! *swipe*”

“Bloody Hell. Who is she? Did you just download all this?”

“Nah! It’s a bird I’ve met online. From Stockport. Red fucking hot she is. I met her on one of those dating sites. I got chatting to her, on the computer, like.”

Cyclops prods his fingers in the air, showing me how you type on a computer keyboard.

“Any road, I got chatting to her and she asks for me number so I gives her it and she starts sending me these mucky photos! Dirty bitch! Hur hur hur!”

“Yeah. Very romantic. What does she look like?”

Cyclops looks confused. “How d’yer mean?”

“Well, all I can see here are her tits, her fanny, and I think that’s probably her arsehole. What does her face look like?”

Cyclops looked at me like I was a pervert.

“Weird fucker, Luci.” He swiped the phone again. “Here’s her face.”

She looked normal. Early thirties. Blonde. Sensible haircut. Smiling a bit. Clothed.

Holding a child.

“Fuck me, Cyclops. did she send you that picture along with the ones where she’s fingering herself?? And you call me weird!”

“Nah, that’s the first one she sent me, so I could see what her grid were like.”

“Not too clever sending a picture of her kid though, is it? There’s some strange bastards about.”

“That kids not hers, Luci.”

“Who’s is it then?”

“Her daughter’s. That’s her grand-daughter, that is.”

“Oh, fucking Hell! You’ve got someone’s grandma sending you photos of herself with a finger up her own arse? Call me old fashioned, Cyclops, but that seems pretty wrong to me.”

“I’ll not call you old fashioned, Luci, I’ll call you a soft cunt though. Hur hur hur!”

“Whatever. She must have had her daughter when she was fourteen for her to be a granny now. She strikes me as a bit of a nutter. I’d avoid.”

“Fuck that. She’s red hot! She wants me to go over there and fuck her this weekend!”

“Fancy you, does she? How does she know what you look like?”

“coz I’ve sent her some photos of meself, that’s how!”

“What, just your face, or your cock as well?”

Cyclops went quiet. Turned red.

“Fuck me, you’ve being taking snaps of your cock and sending then to grannies in Stockport!!”

The lads started laughing. Cyclops went even redder.

“Fuck off.”

“How did you take the snaps, Cyclops? Did you give it a tickle to get it respectable and hold the camera nice and close?”

“I said fuck off!”

I’d noticed something about the photos, something a bit strange. It suddenly occurred to me.

“Wait a minute, Cyclops. Show me them photos again.”

“Fuck off, Luci. I’m sick of you taking the piss!!”

“No, really. Give us a look.”

I flicked through the home-made porn.

“Here, look at this one. She’s got one finger up her arse, another couple of fingers in her fanny.”

“Yeah, what about it? It’s fucking red hot, like I said!”

“That may be so, but who took the picture?”

The lads went quiet.

We flicked through the pictures. There wasn’t one picture she could have taken herself.

“She’s either used a camera on a timer, or…”

The picture on the phone flicked onto the one of her holding a child.

We all looked at each other.

I gave Cyclops his phone back.

“Here you go mate.  I wouldn’t bother going to Stockport, if I were you. You might get more than you bargained for.”

I walked off, leaving Cyclops deleting pictures from his phone.

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One Response to 105. One finger, one thumb.

  1. Pingback: Reprographics - The repro man blog - Page 37 - London Fixed-gear and Single-speed

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