Porto Sketches, vii.

at 19:30 i was in just one of those old man bars, waiting for tasos and babak who were upstairs cleaning up and getting ready for the night. in a few they came down to join me and spend the next two hours watching the US blow nearly every opportunity they had to take control of the second round game against ghana. in the end it was terrible but we were in portugal and tasos was waiting outside the bar with his friend and a joint so i let the past pass and with babak by my side, stepped out into the dark.

the four of us stood smoking for a while, chatting. i’m not sure how it came up but tasos and his friend began what i came to realize was their usual breakdown of modern-day global socio-economics. it must have come from some football result, something tasos' friend was very interested in.

<< well it's the same way the english control the money. >>

though he wasn't smoking, babak choked. << i'm sorry, but what?? >>

<< you know, the english control all the money. >>

babak frowned and with widened eyes shook his head side to side slowly. << what money would this be, then? >>

<< i mean, it's simple. look, you know how the vatican controls religion, right? >>

babak, london raised though of an iranian family, began to catch on, and quicken his response time.

<< right, the vatican. are they still in operation? >>

<< of course, man. they control religion. the spiritual world follows their orders. >>

<< sure, mate. try telling that to the 80 million people in iran. or the billion in india for that matter. let's see, where else...? >>

<< OK, OK, well anyway. It's the same way that england controls the money. why do you think they don't use the euro? >>

<< i'm sorry mate, i know I only just met you like, 3 minutes ago, but you've got absolutely no idea what you're talking about. >> babak being the master of word delivery that he is, inflected his tone in such a way as to make his remark both defining and sympathetic at once, as though he were pleading for the boy to realize the reality of the present rhetoric at the end of his shun. but tasos had yet to contribute.

<< exactly, malaka. malaka, that's the way it works. you see, my friend. england controls the money and america controls the army. malaka it's fucked up. fucked up. >> delivered with a shrug and frown. the situation must be irreversible.

<< WHAT?! america controls the army? lad, have you ever picked up a newspaper? what army do they control, really? are they not still in a war that basically the entire world thinks they're complete dicks for but continue to fight and not win? wait, make that 2? >>

The friend realizes that babak's on and ready to dance. << listen, i can see you're getting upset. let's not argue. i don't want to talk about it. >>

<< i'm sorry mate but you just cant do that. you cant blurt out a statement like "england controls the money" and then say "i dont want to talk about it". thats like saying "i've recently discovered how to fly without a vessel. but i dont want to talk about it." you cant do that. if you make such a statement, back it up. >>

all the while i stand smiling in the shadow, having heard the two students' sermon before babak landed and decided it best to leave them in such blissful global organization. the boys make evasive comments and babak, though somewhat incensed, knows to pursue would be belligerent and thats just not him. I pick up the ball.

<< word. so tasos. malaka. its saturday. where are we getting into trouble? >>

<< my friend, i dont know. i might not even go out malaka, i am tired and there is poker at home. i can make much money, you know malaka. >>

<< sure, sure. then where do babak and myself find the party? >>