Tails of Brasil--Bruno's Chair

[Guest Gringo]

WARNING: this is a typical non-sexual encounter of the Brasilian kind. It may not be suitable for all interests.

 

The first time I encountered Bruno was near Cruz Vermelho. He was on the corner of Avenida Mem de Sa and I was waiting for a break in the traffic to enter the praca. ‘’Ýou want to buy a tv for someone this Christmas?” His offerings were displayed in a makeshift stall with four shelfs. Old videos, computer parts, telephone parts, tape players and used dvds—and one blurry television set.

 

‘’You must adjust the antenna,” he said as he leaned fully over to the top shelf, reaching the antenna and moving it about. The word sinewy comes to mind. He was probably in his early thirties and his skin was a three-hits-of-milk shade of mulatta with a hint of bronze. But it wasn’t the tv I was interested in.

 

His girlfriend was sitting nearby holding an infant. I liked the chair she was resting in. Noticing my gaze, she immediately sprang up. “’Try the chair. It is good. Comfortable.” It was an old naugahyde desk chair on a five spoke base with rubber wheels. But there was a problem. The back tilted dangerously low when I leaned back. So I didn’t lean back. Still the chair was comfortable and the padding was in fair shape.

 

‘’Give me fifty reais and I will carry it on my head to your apartment.”

 

I answered I could not use it because it tilted too low and I might fall.

 

‘’OK, no problem. You are my friend. Give me forty reais and I will carry it to your

apartment.’’

 

‘’I do not think I can use it. But I’ll give it some thought tonight.’’ And I did.

 

The wooden straight back chair I have been using is not very comfortable. Interesting how the lush padding of my ass seems to have migrated to my stomach in recent years. Men of a certain age—don’t go there, I don’t want to think about that right now. But with my weight I would surely tumble over and injure myself. I don’t want a back injury or need a hospital in a third world country. But I have an idea.

 

The next morning at 10am I go to Cruz Vermelho. Bruno is no where to be found. ‘’I came to buy his chair,’’ I say to the vendor setting up his goods at the next stall.

 

‘’He waited for you to return all night, and in the morning he gave up and went across the street to sleep.’’ I go down the street and have lunch.

 

I enjoy going to the by-the-kilo eateries. There are many and the quality and prices vary. A simple meal with chicken, meat, beans, rice and vegetables is available for one dollar a pound in Centro. A better place, like the Siqueira Grill in Copa costs about four dollars a pound. But there you find such a variety of quality foods—filet mignon and other prime cuts of meat, grilled mushrooms, pureed potatoes, fresh salads and vegetables, and my personal favorite, heart of palm, to name a few of the delicous foods. In what other country can you get such wonderful food for only four dollars a pound?

 

Bruco is pacing the sidewalk when I return.

 

‘’Give me thirty reais and I will carry this chair to your apartment.’’

 

I tell him I have an idea. If he will carry the chair just two blocks, there is a harware store where I think we can make repairs to make the chair suitable for my safe use. First we ask for replacement rollers, but they do not have the size I need. I suggest that an eye hook be screwed to the wooden underside of the chair and then some wire or chain could be tied to the base to prevent it from tilting. The hardware vendor produces some wire about the thickness of a coathanger. He says it will be able to secure the seat to the base platform. I tell him I weigh over two-hundred kilos and that I have little confidence the wire is strong enough. But Bruno takes the wire and attaches it to the base and the eye hook.

 

‘’Try it,’’ encourages Bruno. I decline.

 

‘’You try it first and I will stand behind the chair in case you should tilt too far”

 

The three salesmen at the hardware counter watch with amusement at our engineering adventure. As Bruno sits down, the wires give a little, but he appears secure. Bruno steps behind the chair and says, ‘’Sit down. I will not let you fall.’’ I sit down and gingerly shift my considerable weight to the back of the chair. SNAP!!! I am in Bruno’s arms. He holds me firmly as I get my footing. His biceps bulge from supporting my weight and preventing my fall. I grab my chest—kind of just for effect and to maximize the moment. The vendor brings me a glass of water. We must try something stronger.

 

We settle on nylon cord attached from the arm rests to the base. This seems to work well. Flipping the chair up and onto his head, Bruno smiles broadly—he has closed the deal. Through a maze of people and traffic, this proud buck of a man follows me through the city streets. I am sure he could carry me just as effortlessly through the streets, but I resist the Cleopatra fantasy. Six blocks later he lowers the chair to the sidewalk in from of my apartment.

 

‘’You want thirty reais for this chair?” Bruno nods yes as he wipes the dripping sweat from his face which has now flowed into his chest hairs.

 

‘’I will pay you your original asking price of fifty reais because I think you have earned it.”

 

‘Bruno’s eye sparkle, he shakes my hand and hurries off to return to his friends on the corner of Cruz Vermelho. He and his girlfriend will have a good meal and some beers tonight and he will tell his friends of the sale he made to the gringo. I have a new chair and the rememberance of an embrace that was more than worth the cost of the chair. I have successfully negotiated a Carioca transation with a little joy in the afternoon. Sometimes it's the small, unexpected embraces we remember most.

:+

[catnip]

That's awesome, Gringo. Thanks!

[Guest Gringo]

Thanks Catnip. These simple dramas make each day in Brasil a true life adventure for me.

[Mike_M]

Wonderful story, Gringo! I wish I could be there and hang out with you again. You have a great way of opening up to people and letting these delightful situations develop - and so in tune with the same inherent quality of the warm friendly people of that beautiful country.

 

Actually, I was waiting for the story to end a little more erotically! Maybe it could -- there's still the old tv to go back and wager over! With your bad back you couldn't carry it home and you would need him to come up and help you adjust the antenna, so to speak. If not, certainly scores of other equally promising opportunities will present themselves. Enjoy.

[Guest Gringo]

I was waiting for the story to end a little more erotically!

 

Since the post is a bit long, I included the warning that it was non-sexual. But believe me, if I thought his antenna was pointing anywhere near, I'd sit right on it!! LOL. But you are correct of course, there's always tomorrow.

[jackhammer91406]

Ahhh, there's the poet I know and love. What a great story Gringo.

There used to be a a saying about some great public speaker ( I dunno who) it went something like, " he could make reading the phone book interesting".

Well, this story is like that. You have taken a real life experience and turned it into a loving example of what awaits in RIO for any visitor willing to look past the usual. The people of RIO treat others like family, even when they don't speak the language.

 

Thanks for sharing this...

 

[Guest Gringo]

Thanks for your encouragement Jackhammer. I apprecite it and I know you experienced similar unexpected moments of joy during your visit. I wish I had taken a photo of this smiling stallion of a man that I could post. Maybe another time.....