Return Of Hugh The Jew

He was back after the Labor day party, full of visions of the Mexican Monkey's wife, a beautiful young woman from Switzerland. He wants a girlfriend, he wants to fuck and take her out then fuck some more. Hugh the Jew is a very lonely Jew.

We sat in the backyard drinking wine, smoking pot and him talking about how he can't forget Sheila. "She's so beautiful," he would say and then pick at something on his back.

He is always picking, scratching, snorting and rubbing something on his body. But this time, he was in earnest of scratching his back. It's a strange behavior, as if he could use a flea collar or bath but at one point in his lamenting no women in his life and digging at whatever was on his back, he  managed to finally gouge something off. It looked like a chunk of skin.

He was about to fling it, the size of a dime or penney, before I yelled and asked, "You are not going to fling a body part of yours into the patio where I  or someone could step on it! Are you?" I ran, yes ran into the house, grabbed a tissue, antibiotic ointment and a bandage. I didn't yet look at his back but had a feeling it didn't look good.
 
It wasn't, after I had him place his flesh part on the tissue, wrapped it and then threw it in the trash, I looked at what in hell it was he had taken off. There on his back was a bleeding wound. A deep gouged out portion that was a raw wound from whatever in hell he removed and scarred lines of scrapes from his fingernails. The entire wound was about the size of an man's hand, with the epicenter a meaty exposed area devoid of skin. That part that covered his body now gone and in a tissue in the trash.

I dressed the wound. Placed the pathetically small band-aid on the worse of the wound that wasn't able to stick because of the course hair that grows on his back. (Let me add here that Hugh definitely looks much  better with a shirt on than off. And I really wish he would keep all his clothing on even though I'm gay) When done, I sat down and asked him this question.

"Do you pick flesh from your body when you're trying to pick up women?"

"Of course not."

I don't believe it. The wound was apparently caused over a period of time and I've seen him nonchalantly peck at himself every time he came over. It was something he always did and I asked again.

"Do you think that scraping flesh off your back and tossing it to the ground is a good idea when trying to impress women?"

"Of course not."

"Is it me then? You come over here to scrape your flesh raw while telling me how you can't get a date because, if that's the case, please start thinking of me as woman trapped inside a fat man's body."

He went back to snorting, rubbing and talking about how he needs to find a woman for his life. And I'm sure he does. I'm sure a woman would beat the living shit out of him the first time he scratched and threw on her clean floor some body part of his. He really needs a woman, a keeper or a nurse in his life. One with a strong stomach, I would think.