he won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1967. Pablo Neruda is from Chile and he won the same prize in 1971. Gabriel Garcia Marquez is from Colombia and he won in 1982. Octavio Paz is from Mexico and he won in 1990. And Juan Jose Arreola is from Mexico; he never won the Nobel Prize, but he’s definitely considered a great writer.”
Carlos was blissfully mystified.
Carolina was just one criterion away from being the perfect woman, but it was the fifth – and arguably most difficult – of the “Coherent Carlos Criteria.” He still didn’t know if she was a non-smoking vegetarian with a Buddhist worldview and environmentalist values. As he thought of how painful it would be to have to walk away at this point, he struggled with his longstanding, tenacious commitment to the Carlos criteria – an unyielding fidelity that had always baffled Heeb. He suddenly wished that Heeb were there so that he could consult with him, even though he knew exactly what Heeb would say.
“Are you crazy, Carlos?!” Heeb would exclaim. “You deserve to be castrated if you blow this one because of your idiotic criteria!” The imaginary Heeb looked particularly agitated as his scalp flushed.
“But my whole life I’ve respected these criteria…I’ve never compromised on them for anyone – I mean, in terms of giving up my virginity…Can I really be sure that no one will come closer to satisfying my standards?”
“Carlos, the odds of someone else coming closer are so bad that if you stall on this for another second I’m personally going to castrate you myself and then you won’t have to worry about how and when to lose your virginity anymore.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just – ”
“Carlos, this woman is heaven. You probably don’t even deserve her. Especially with these completely irrational doubts you’re having about details that are stupider than stupid.”
“But I’ve respected those stupid details my whole life. There’s something to be said for consistency about one’s convictions.”
“Especially if they’re stupid convictions.”
“I guess I could compromise on the Buddhist environmentalist bit. I mean, she could always evolve into that over time, right?”
Heeb exhaled a sigh of exaggerated relief: “I see a light of reason at the end of a very dark and celibate tunnel…But you’re not done. I mean what about the vegetarianism? Don’t even think about asking her if she eats meat, because I can tell you right now that she loves a good filet mignon, and if that’s a deal-breaker on this woman, then you deserve to die alone on a vegetable farm.”
“OK, that’s gone too. I guess we just won’t be able to share our food all the time.”
“So you’re ready?”
“Well there’s still one thing. One deal-breaker that I do have to ask her about.”
“What?” Heeb’s patience was at its limit.
“She can’t be a smoker…And I’m worried, because Europeans tend to be smokers.” Heeb appeared frustrated like never before. Carlos continued, defensively: “Look, that’s a health issue. I just can’t be breathing unnecessary impurities, or kissing someone who breathes them.”
“Now don’t budge, Lucky Chucky. I’ve got the surgical knife right here. Your new name is Castrated Carlos. It’s time to end everyone’s misery.” Heeb took the scalpel out of his shirt pocket and started moving towards Carlos, who was paralyzed by indecision.
Carolina spied another look at Carlos, who appeared as if he were watching a television embedded in the cab seat in front of him. She smiled in amusement and decided to interrupt the broadcast. But preferring to avoid an improper intrusion, she rummaged through her purse a little and then resorted to a harmless pretext that had proven its efficacy on countless other occasions.
“Carlos, do you have a light?” she asked, with a cigarette between her fingers.
Carlos felt the knife neuter him forever.
He groaned aloud and then released a moaning
Carlos was blissfully mystified.
Carolina was just one criterion away from being the perfect woman, but it was the fifth – and arguably most difficult – of the “Coherent Carlos Criteria.” He still didn’t know if she was a non-smoking vegetarian with a Buddhist worldview and environmentalist values. As he thought of how painful it would be to have to walk away at this point, he struggled with his longstanding, tenacious commitment to the Carlos criteria – an unyielding fidelity that had always baffled Heeb. He suddenly wished that Heeb were there so that he could consult with him, even though he knew exactly what Heeb would say.
“Are you crazy, Carlos?!” Heeb would exclaim. “You deserve to be castrated if you blow this one because of your idiotic criteria!” The imaginary Heeb looked particularly agitated as his scalp flushed.
“But my whole life I’ve respected these criteria…I’ve never compromised on them for anyone – I mean, in terms of giving up my virginity…Can I really be sure that no one will come closer to satisfying my standards?”
“Carlos, the odds of someone else coming closer are so bad that if you stall on this for another second I’m personally going to castrate you myself and then you won’t have to worry about how and when to lose your virginity anymore.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just – ”
“Carlos, this woman is heaven. You probably don’t even deserve her. Especially with these completely irrational doubts you’re having about details that are stupider than stupid.”
“But I’ve respected those stupid details my whole life. There’s something to be said for consistency about one’s convictions.”
“Especially if they’re stupid convictions.”
“I guess I could compromise on the Buddhist environmentalist bit. I mean, she could always evolve into that over time, right?”
Heeb exhaled a sigh of exaggerated relief: “I see a light of reason at the end of a very dark and celibate tunnel…But you’re not done. I mean what about the vegetarianism? Don’t even think about asking her if she eats meat, because I can tell you right now that she loves a good filet mignon, and if that’s a deal-breaker on this woman, then you deserve to die alone on a vegetable farm.”
“OK, that’s gone too. I guess we just won’t be able to share our food all the time.”
“So you’re ready?”
“Well there’s still one thing. One deal-breaker that I do have to ask her about.”
“What?” Heeb’s patience was at its limit.
“She can’t be a smoker…And I’m worried, because Europeans tend to be smokers.” Heeb appeared frustrated like never before. Carlos continued, defensively: “Look, that’s a health issue. I just can’t be breathing unnecessary impurities, or kissing someone who breathes them.”
“Now don’t budge, Lucky Chucky. I’ve got the surgical knife right here. Your new name is Castrated Carlos. It’s time to end everyone’s misery.” Heeb took the scalpel out of his shirt pocket and started moving towards Carlos, who was paralyzed by indecision.
Carolina spied another look at Carlos, who appeared as if he were watching a television embedded in the cab seat in front of him. She smiled in amusement and decided to interrupt the broadcast. But preferring to avoid an improper intrusion, she rummaged through her purse a little and then resorted to a harmless pretext that had proven its efficacy on countless other occasions.
“Carlos, do you have a light?” she asked, with a cigarette between her fingers.
Carlos felt the knife neuter him forever.
He groaned aloud and then released a moaning
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