I had been working in the video shop for a week when my boss asked me to spit on him. I stared at his back which was turned towards me, the black fabric of his overcoat speckled with dandruff. He said it louder: “Spit on me.” I looked at the reddening face glaring at me. He turned his head and I knew then what I must do. I pretended to spit, making the noise that people make when they pretend to do such. I thought that would be it, but then he twisted his head back towards me and examined the back of his coat. This time his voice no longer simmered but boiled with rage: “In the name of the baby Jesus crying in his tiny manger crying his eyes out whilst his mother, the Alla Madonna shit cunt whore, fingers her blessed cunt; spit on me.”
When he turned his head this time, I knew I had no choice but to comply with his demand. Bringing up the very last dregs of scum from the pit of my throat, I spat on him with everything I had. Looking over his shoulder, he cautiously examined the slimy mess without uttering a sound, before exclaiming with relief: “There! That is what I mean!” Satisfied, he marched out of the shop without saying another word. When he returned nothing more was said about the incident but when he turned I noticed that the back of his coat was now clean.
Instructions for printing: Click on above title to download PDF of book.
White paper, pink front and back covers, lipstick kiss ink stamp, black and white inside.
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