The blue pill
The one that turns a Paykan into a BMW
January 31, 2001
The Iranian
I'm having myself a beautiful night -- sitting at home, chilling with
my lady, watching Jerry Springer. This one is my favorite episode where
this fat girl is having an affair with her 90-year-old father-in-law while
her husband is doing the nasty with her grandma.
Things were heating up and the fat girl was just about ready to confront
her husband and her father-in-law was beating the hell out of her grandma.
Then my phone rang. I couldn't believe it. Whoever interrupts my Jerry
shall be punished. I picked up the phone violently and shouted, "WHAT?"
I heard static followed by a short beep and a voice that sounded like
it was coming from another galaxy.
"Allo, Sia joon, how the heck are you?"
"I was fine till you called; who's this?"
"Pedarsag (father dog) you don't recognize me? Shame on you."
"I'm sorry but I don't."
"Pedarsookhteh (father burned) it's your Uncle Mehdi."
I had not seen or heard from Uncle Mehdi in twenty years. From what
I remember, he is a bad tempered man with a reputation for calling people
only when he needed something.
"BAH-BAH," I replied. "Now this is what I call a surprise."
"Listen I need to make this quick. I'm calling from a public phone.
I'm paying arms and legs for this call. Dayee joon, I am down on my luck.
Things have not been going well lately. Life is really difficult here.
It's very stressful and unpredictable. It's so expensive and hectic. You
have to run around all day to get this and that. It affects a man's well
being and hits the pocket hard. I have a problem you can solve. I have
a personal favor to ask."
Go figure. My long lost uncle calls me from Iran after twenty years
in the middle of my favorite show. He probably wants money.
"What can I do for you?" I asked.
"Send me the pill."
"Excuse me? The what?"
"The pill, you know -- the blue pill."
"Advil?"
"Not Advil you idiot. The pill. The one that makes the dead man
rise from the coffin."
"Dead? Don't tell me you got cancer," I asked frantically.
"I don't have cancer you moron. Listen; there are people standing
around. I can't say the name of the pill. They are listening and looking
at me chap-chap. I need the pill that makes the rusty old cannon fire again.
You know -- the one that put Casanova back in business. The one that makes
the man stand up and salute during the national anthem."
"What the hell are you talking about. What cannon? What national
anthem?"
"Are you dumb?" he shouted. "I need the pill that turns
the snake to a cane. The pill that brings the worm out of its hole. The
blue pill that made the hunch-back of Notredame stand up straight."
"I get it. You need supplements with vitamins for your back pain."
"AH-MAGH, supplement BOKHOREH TOO SARET. Listen to me. The wife
has not been happy with my performance. I need the pill that turns a Paykan
into a BMW."
"I'm sorry. You keep getting cut off," I yelled. "Anyway,
to improve the performance of your Paykan, I recommend using unleaded gasoline
with performance spark plugs."
"Aqa Sia, I wish you were standing here right now so I could smash
this handset on your head. Concentrate. I need the pill that puts the flag
back on the pole. I need the pill that makes the old man die of a heart
attack with a smile on his face."
"Dayee joon, all you have to do is take one Aspirin a day to prevent
heart attacks."
"What a frickin IDIOT ..." Uncle Mehdi yelled and hung up
the phone.
"Allo? Dayee? ALLO...?"
I went back to watching my show.
"Who was it?" my girlfriend asked.
"It was my uncle calling from Iran. Dirty old man wanted Viagra!"
