Of masturbation and why comrades ‘eat’ purchased ‘ladies’

I was floating in my mug of Senator keg, trying not to drown between the barmaids almost spilling out yellow-yellow papayas when a tipsy second year slouched from his stool, smiled at his mates, walked over, borrowed my dying cigarette then shot this very private question at a very public place.

Him: We hujipiga punyeto?’ I narrowed my eyes, pretended not to have understood the query, yet interested in why exactly he had to ask that question, I angled my neck towards him, ‘hujawai... he gestured spitting on his left palm, partly folded it, grasped an imaginary rod which he proceeded to vigorously rub through his palm, the gestured spittle acting like a lubricant..? Everyman does it bruh sindio? Si it’s true? Si you tell those guys.’ I handed him the dead ciggy. Turned. And gazed at the barmaid.