You know how appearances could be deceiving – especially when the intent is to deceive, right? Well, Java’s been doing some snooping on anonymous entities out there – following leads, communicating with others who maybe in the know, and generally raking up some weird shit – and it’s all to do with figuring out who’s for real.

It all started with RD’s apparent infatuation with this French chick when he was over here some weeks ago. This ‘girl’, who was floating around looking rather lost at Bareass Boulevard one night when we were together with the usual suspects, caught RD’s eye, and being ever the considerate chap he is, he flashed her a smile – and that did it! There she was, as if she had known us all her life, coming on strong and doing her thing. I’m not entirely sure that RD (innocent lad that he is) sussed out where she was coming from, although I have a good idea he did sus out where she was heading. And so it went – one thing leading to another (nothing physical, mind you) until we had been told pretty much the story of her life. And what a story!

It was mostly to do with her sexual exploits – no holds barred kinda stuff. She wasn’t particularly fussy, she said, about gender – although the ‘same-sex’ interactions came rather later in her life. But it was her descriptive powers that held us spellbound – she went into the minutest detail of some of her more exciting episodes and it was all we could do to stop ourselves from entering her experience. RD was blown away – especially since it looked like she was directing her narratives in his direction. She didn’t get into her childhood or even what she was doing in the country, and when RD broached the subject, she neatly deflected the question with a suitably vague answer – accompanied by a ‘friendly’ squeeze, that put the matter to rest.

Java, however – never willing to take things at face value, thought that there was something not quite right. Maybe it was all that detail, and all the variety she was on about – anyway, since we were all leaving for another gathering at Cinimod’s hacienda, RD reluctantly joined us, but not before getting contact details in case he could catch up with her during the two days he had left of his vacation. Having the girls with him added to the complications that he was fantasizing about, but what the hell, one never knew!

To make a long story shorter, RD flew away without the chance of meeting Frenchy again, but the e-mails kept zipping back and forth (or so he said), full of more descriptions of the affairs she had experienced. The variety of her experiences – genders notwithstanding – made RD a bit apprehensive, which was when he shared his thoughts with Java and me about if we thought she was for real. And that’s when Java started his snooping.

Now I’m not entirely certain that Java’s right about this – and his story about how he arrived at his conclusion was not altogether without its weak links – but it appears that Frenchy is, in reality, a performance artist, living his art of painting erotic pictures in his viewers’ heads.

We’re not exactly sure of how to break the news to RD – sensitive bloke that he is – one never knows quite how he will take it.

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