Persian Westender

My sense of humour aches and it just happened in a day that it shouldn’t.

It started today afternoon, when I was playing ‘footbale gol-koochik’.

Of course, not those football games which we used to play in Iran with those unforgettable multi-layered plastic balls we used to buy from “Daryani” grocery shop.

Anyway, I was the goal-keeper and in the middle of the game, I felt something should’ve been wrong with my sense of humour. There was a bizarre and unprecedented feeling of numbness, and at the same time discomfort and pain, felt right in the middle of my sense of humour. Without saying a word I somehow did manage till end of the game, but my playmates noticed my unusual quietness. As I expected ‘H’ inquired about it:

- “Hey, buddy! Are you OK?”

- “Well, actually no. my ...my sense of humour hurts...”

- “Ya?...Can I take a look at it? Was it hit by the ball or something...?”

- “No ..I don’t know...” I said it while I was un-wrapping my sense of humour.

As soon as ‘H’ could see my sense of humour which was somewhat swelled, deformed and inflamed, he said:

- “That’s it ...! you got your SOH chooked, man”!

- “Ha? What the hell chooked means? What are you talking about?”

“H” passionately continued, while he kept examining it with his professionally-looking look!

- “Like I said...Its chooked, but it is not as bad as I thought...you know?

At this point, he seemed like a surgeon who checks up the post-surgery scars on his patient long after the operation. Other guys were preparing to say good bye and looked like they all knew this ‘chooking’ thingy is not that unusual for SOH.

- “...Listen, bro! It could happen with no reason.... All you need is to get home, get a hot shower and rest up! OK? You’re gonna be fine. By tomorrow you’ll have as good-looking sense of humour as mine..!. ” He said it as he gave me a pat in the back and was ready to get going with a mysterious smile.

He didn’t wait for me to reply. I just wanted to mention that I really did need my sense of humour tonight, as I supposed to have a date with my new girlfriend.

I have no doubt that I would look miserable tonight without my sense of humor working well. It would be disaster to be appeared like an “onogh” and “borje zahremaar_looking” person, just in a night which you should be full of passion, wit and sense of humour. It virtually means that I’m screwed! I nightmarishly am imagining the scene in which she tries to lighten me up and I’m dull and confused staring at her....I am imagining she stands up bored and frustrated, yelling at me ”...DON’T YOU HAVE ANY SENSE OF HUMOUR...GODDAMIT?”

Nobody would believe that my sense of humour is genuinely OK, but physically and temporarily is not functioning.

Now, Its been a while that I got back home and I guess it’s getting worse, so I’ve put my SOH on a pack of ice...shit! I’m not sure I’m doing a right thing. ‘H’ didn’t say anything about ice pack............Auch ...Auchhh!