Someone kidnapped Jesus and took her to America.
I came back October 20th from Norway and went searching for Jesus. She was gone. Vanished. I could not find her anywhere. I searched the whole beach, back and forth. She wasn’t at her normal hangout places. I asked everyone if they had seen her, but no one had seen her in a very long time.
Jesus was my one true love. My only love. She loved me unconditionally. Other than my grandmother, she was someone I could always count on to come and visit me every day. Rain or shine, hurricanes or floods, she came into O’shay’s everyday looking for me. Over the last 8 years of working on Cabarete beach, there wasn’t one day where she did not stop by to see me. She loved me. I mean…really loved me.
I loved Jesus back. I once drank her milk straight from her tit, right here at the bar…siting right here next to the bananas. She was lactating at the time; she was always lactating. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t pregnant. I had no milk for my coffee. I simply walked over to her and squeezed her little tit and took about an ounce and a half of milk from her. She didn’t care. She acted as if it was the most natural thing ever. People stood around the bar in horror. Some horrified tourists covered their children's eyes and took pictures of it. The staff took pictures with their cell phones. I didn’t care. I needed milk for my coffee. People said I would get sick drinking her milk. I said, “Oh well, what can I do…I need milk and the stores are closed now.”
Finally, after months of looking for her, someone came in and gave me the bad news…Jesus was living in Idaho. I said, “Idaho? What the fu6k is she doing living in Idaho?” I was perplexed, confused, but mostly...i was hurt. Really hurt.
What the hell was Jesus doing living in Idaho. She had never even seen snow before. It didn’t make any sense. None. Zero. She would hate Idaho. She doesn’t even eat potatoes. I know, because I tried to giving her my french fries on numerous occasions and she constantly refused them. She was a meat eater, through and through. She was on one of those Actin’s diets. Sure she was crazy, but she wasn’t vegetarian crazy!
Allow me to tell you a little about Jesus. She’ s short, wide, and black. Blacker then coal. Blacker then night. But she had one white spot on her leg that gave her away. She was a whore and knew it. She was dirty and knew it. But, like most dirty whores, she seemed quite comfortable with herself.
I hardly ever remember Jesus not being pregnant. She was always pregnant. Someone was always making love to her. The beach right here in front of O’Shay’s was her favorite mating spot. I caught her making love right here on the beach numerous times. But occasionally I would see her down by the water making love. She was shameless and knew it. She was crazy and knew it. But, what can you do…a leopard can’t change their spots.
Jesus was a slut, but she was my slut. Well, that’s not entirely true…she was Cabarete’s slut. No one owned her.
Some German guy who lives in the shack in front of Lax—right at the entrance when you come in from the street--claimed he owned her, but like any good women running around, you can’t keep a good women locked inside the house all day. Jesus roamed the beaches at night, making her rounds. She wasn’t listening to anyone’s demands; she didn't abide by anyone's curfews. She did what she wanted, when she wanted.
She was beautiful and knew it. She was sexy and knew it. No one was going to tell her how to live her life.
She’ll be back. I can feel it.
Frank
I came back October 20th from Norway and went searching for Jesus. She was gone. Vanished. I could not find her anywhere. I searched the whole beach, back and forth. She wasn’t at her normal hangout places. I asked everyone if they had seen her, but no one had seen her in a very long time.
Jesus was my one true love. My only love. She loved me unconditionally. Other than my grandmother, she was someone I could always count on to come and visit me every day. Rain or shine, hurricanes or floods, she came into O’shay’s everyday looking for me. Over the last 8 years of working on Cabarete beach, there wasn’t one day where she did not stop by to see me. She loved me. I mean…really loved me.
I loved Jesus back. I once drank her milk straight from her tit, right here at the bar…siting right here next to the bananas. She was lactating at the time; she was always lactating. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t pregnant. I had no milk for my coffee. I simply walked over to her and squeezed her little tit and took about an ounce and a half of milk from her. She didn’t care. She acted as if it was the most natural thing ever. People stood around the bar in horror. Some horrified tourists covered their children's eyes and took pictures of it. The staff took pictures with their cell phones. I didn’t care. I needed milk for my coffee. People said I would get sick drinking her milk. I said, “Oh well, what can I do…I need milk and the stores are closed now.”
Finally, after months of looking for her, someone came in and gave me the bad news…Jesus was living in Idaho. I said, “Idaho? What the fu6k is she doing living in Idaho?” I was perplexed, confused, but mostly...i was hurt. Really hurt.
What the hell was Jesus doing living in Idaho. She had never even seen snow before. It didn’t make any sense. None. Zero. She would hate Idaho. She doesn’t even eat potatoes. I know, because I tried to giving her my french fries on numerous occasions and she constantly refused them. She was a meat eater, through and through. She was on one of those Actin’s diets. Sure she was crazy, but she wasn’t vegetarian crazy!
Allow me to tell you a little about Jesus. She’ s short, wide, and black. Blacker then coal. Blacker then night. But she had one white spot on her leg that gave her away. She was a whore and knew it. She was dirty and knew it. But, like most dirty whores, she seemed quite comfortable with herself.
I hardly ever remember Jesus not being pregnant. She was always pregnant. Someone was always making love to her. The beach right here in front of O’Shay’s was her favorite mating spot. I caught her making love right here on the beach numerous times. But occasionally I would see her down by the water making love. She was shameless and knew it. She was crazy and knew it. But, what can you do…a leopard can’t change their spots.
Jesus was a slut, but she was my slut. Well, that’s not entirely true…she was Cabarete’s slut. No one owned her.
Some German guy who lives in the shack in front of Lax—right at the entrance when you come in from the street--claimed he owned her, but like any good women running around, you can’t keep a good women locked inside the house all day. Jesus roamed the beaches at night, making her rounds. She wasn’t listening to anyone’s demands; she didn't abide by anyone's curfews. She did what she wanted, when she wanted.
She was beautiful and knew it. She was sexy and knew it. No one was going to tell her how to live her life.
She’ll be back. I can feel it.
Frank
