Thursday, August 09, 2007

Sasha Kinski Tells a Joke

Sasha Kinski Tells a Joke

Sasha Kinski wants to tell a joke. He knows his English is very good, even though accented. Here is the joke: The teller says to a new acquaintance, “You know, I have CRS.” The listener wonders for a moment what kind of disease this is but before they can speak, the joke teller says, “CRS...can’t remember shit.” Sasha has heard this joke told twice and each time there is laughter.

And now Sasha is at a party. Two dozen or thirty people are standing in small clumps or sitting on the loft’s few furnishings. He has been conversing brilliantly, mentioning with casual humor some of the more amusing consumer products he grew up with in Poland in the seventies: the Trabant, that filthy, square and dangerous auto from East Germany, the splinter filled bathroom tissue, the counterfeit Coca-Cola. He knows the time is near for his joke.

Sasha is tall with dark, droop-eyed good looks. He wears an ill fitting sweater that seems perfect for him; very ethnic, but he doesn’t know this. The small accumulation of party goers near him likes his voice and slightly bear-like movement. One of the women, the one in the teal slacks, is considering what his big hands might mean and if she should make an effort to find out tonight. Some of the men are considering whether his mannerisms might be endearing to potential clients and whether, if they hired him, he might boost sales.

A woman has mentioned that her sister has been ill for the last week. Sasha clears his throat and says, “Well, you know, I have T.B.” Those near him pause. He clears his throat again and they take half a step back. Sasha begins to say, “Can’t remember shit,” and realizes that it doesn’t fit. He has erred, but he’s not certain of the meaning of T.B. Then he says, “Ah, T.B.—Tiny Bladder. I must go to the bathroom.” Two people point the way and step even further back as he suppresses a small cough.

Half way to the bathroom he looks back. The people are whispering and muttering to each other. The woman in the teal slacks is thinking, “What a pity. They are very big hands.”


At Thursday, August 9, 2007 at 10:16:00 PM EDT, Blogger Kate S said...

Thanks for the laugh.

At Friday, August 10, 2007 at 6:31:00 PM EDT, Blogger Pythia3 said...

It was great seeing you at the meeting last night! I'm glad I made it considering the Hell and high waters and all!
I love this one . . . you know, especially the held back cough - so clever and so true!
I received Billville and I will read it over the weekend or possible Monday when I am left all alone in my house.

At Saturday, August 11, 2007 at 12:36:00 PM EDT, Blogger miller580 said...

speaking of goes that?

At Saturday, August 11, 2007 at 6:27:00 PM EDT, Blogger Jon said...

Billville goes not at all. Frozen. The first half (35,000 words or so) took eight weeks. That was in 2004.

At Sunday, August 12, 2007 at 8:39:00 PM EDT, Blogger Stewart Sternberg said...

I didn't smile or laugh until the very last line.

And as Jim Miller goes Billsville.

You know, it's not like you have an excuse for not writing. It's not like you're working. And you certainly don't play World of Warcraft.

At Thursday, August 16, 2007 at 10:40:00 AM EDT, Blogger Pythia3 said...

Come out come out wherever you are! Jon, come out and play!

I have not been able to sit with
Billville yet. I had my grandson over night for the past few days and nights.

Hope you are enjoying this beautiful weather (and staying out of suspected trouble! LOL)

At Thursday, August 16, 2007 at 11:13:00 AM EDT, Blogger Michelle's Spell said...

Hey Jon,

This made me smile! Love the details in the description. It should go without saying that I can't tell jokes. :)

At Sunday, August 19, 2007 at 10:04:00 AM EDT, Blogger Susan Miller said...

Hilarious..and, of course, I feel sorry for poor Sasha.

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