7DeadEndHawk

I'm an electrical engineering graduate, math teacher, and law school applicant who is slowly exploring the possibility that he may have a creative side. A friend of mine told me it takes ten years of writing before you can produce something worth reading. I hope to get there ten years from now; so until then, I hope you enjoy watching me learn how to compose poetry and write short stories inspired by faith, love, and silliness. What I’m Reading: Unaccustomed Earth Jhumpa Lahiri An Abundance of Katherines John Green The Cost of Living Arundhati Roy The Now Habit Neil Fiore Love Does Bob Goff What I'm Listening to: Begin to Hope Regina Spektor Torches Foster the People ...Featuring Norah Jones Come On Feel the Illinoise Sufjan Stevens Give Up The Postal Service

[renoj]

Pier Song

I placed all my hope in a long wooden pier That I watched from my hospital window Long Island City, its shore would stay with me Even as I closed my eyes.

Even as I studied the drip drip drip Of the medicine bag Poison that was meant to heal me

And the drip drip drip of red blood cells To replace what I had lost What I could not make myself

And, ah, the drip drip drip Of the shower head (Keep that PICC arm dry.)

And all that chemo And all that blood And all the promise some waves away It all washed over me And it all washed through me. And in me.

And you watched over me. Until you walked down to me. When I asked you to be my Bride.

On a building on the Manhattan shore Sits a window where a man once wept He promised himself to walk down a pier Across the river, some waves away To experience life on the opposite side.

[renoj]

WIND

She's crossing too many bridges but she's not getting anywhere. Her sky gives no answers and the clouds just stare. 

But there's a Wind that bellows,

Where are you going and how did you get here? Your words speak courage but your eyes cry fear.

There's dirt on your cheek and grass in your hair. If you had a home, child, you should have stayed there.

I was a girl once, and my dreams were loud. Before my legs were quivered, and my knees were bowed.

I was a child, white skinned with a sparkle, But every man I met chained me with a shackle.

Now I blow over here, and I blow over there. But the soul inside knows I'm not going anywhere.

Have you ever seen a dream that drowned? It sinks slow, child, but it dies without a sound.

I was a girl who didn't want much. Just a life to make my own, my own values to clutch.

Be weary of any man who clings too tight. Your life is not your own unless you choose it outright.

[renoj]

Story of Us

The version of our lives  that only you can write is rotting in your head and festering in our marriage bed.

[renoj]

My First Crush (Also, My Receding Hairline)

My first crush was Carly Wagner in the 1st grade. The year was 1995, Doug Funny was the best NickToon, and Bill Clinton was a faithful husband.

I won't describe her appearance in too much detail, because it feels weird as a 24 year old. But I thought she was beautiful, and I told her that the morning Mrs. O'Neil asked us to take the attendance sheet to the main office. 

But Carly didn't respond to my proclamation of her beauty. She didn't even acknowledge that I said it. Perhaps she didn't hear me. Perhaps I only imagined saying it. Or perhaps she ignored me, which was actually really good preparation for my teen years. 

It doesn't really matter why she chose not to react though, because everyone in the 1st grade knew that Carly Wagner was in love with Brian Herman.

I was only 6 years old, but I understood that Brian Herman was an alpha male. He was always the guy who decided what we played during recess. He had an authoritative booming voice that was in every way manly - well, manly for a 6 year old. And he had such thick black hair. Seriously, we're talking Greek god levels of thick black hair.

Now I wasn't jealous of his thick black hair back then. Sure, I was an uncoordinated and lanky Indian boy with bifocals and Payless sneakers, dressed in clothes that announced the immigration status of my parents. But I too had flowing black hair that beckoned to be ruffled. 

But now, 18 years years later, as I stare in the mirror at my receding hairline with the grief of a mother who has lost a child, I run my hands through the destroyed forests of my hair and I reminisce about their former glory like the Lorax. And I think about Brian Herman and I'm filled with pangs of jealousy, because I know, somewhere out there, he's probably still running the show, followed by men everywhere, and fawned upon by all the beautiful women who just want to touch his decadent and voluminous black hair.

Sometimes Carly would follow Brian around the playground just to get his attention. But Brian didn't care. And it made me so upset.

Because I was actually in love with Carly. I really was.

Until that one time I saw her picking her nose. God, that was disgusting. Seriously, Carly - you're disgusting.  Use a Kleenex.

[renoj]

Why is Irving John Such a Terrible Person?

1. Irving John picks his belly button lint and put's it on your sweater when you're not looking.

2. Irving John leaves his shoes untied throughout the workday so his colleagues can kindly remind him to tie them... BUT HE NEVER DOES. Who knows how many countless hours of his colleagues' work hours he's wasted over the past year for unheeded reminders?! How many's man-hours of productivity must you kill, Irving John? WHY MUST YOU DESTROY OUR NATION's ECONOMY?

3. Irving John is the kind of guy who sniffs the milk to realize it's rotten, only to put it back in the fridge for you to throw out.

4. Irving John actually killed the radio star. 

5. Irving John always took his son's lollipop after they left the pediatrician's office. That son grew up to be Hitler.

6. Irving John went through a cross-dressing phase, during which he seduced a musician and broke up a band. His alter-ego's name was Yoko Ono.

7. Irving John's last name is really a first name.

8. Irving John taught Miley how to twerk.

9. Irving John sold your grandmother a subprime mortgage.

10. Irving John only eats the center square of an Ellio's Pizza and throws away the rest. THE WHOLE FREAKING ELLIO'S PIZZA IS FROM THE DELICIOUS GOLDEN CENTER, IRVING!!

What a prick.

[renoj]

Photo Album

Darling, let me see inside your book. Where'd you get these photos that we never took? Is that us with two kids and styling sombreros? What magic is this? You photo-shopped Mexico? But really, why am I balding and holding a baby, though? Darling, we're 23, with no kids that I know of. Have you... planned my life? Is that what this book's of?

Honey, I love you, and I want you to be my wife. But I need the freedom to plan my own life. Yes, I want kids - maybe even three. But if you really love me, you'll let me be free. Kiss me on the lips, love, and bless me to be me.

[renoj]

Inappropriate Dinner Party

***continued from Inappropriate Dinner Conversations

            Jen stared at herself in the bedroom mirror from every possible angle. Her blue and orange spring dress showed off her long legs and a small amount of cleavage, but it admitted the existence of just a little too much belly. Jen left the mirror to rummage through the hallway closet. In the living room, Abby was watching an episode of Friends when she heard the ruckus and paused the show to investigate. She walked into the hallway to see Jen tiptoeing on a pile of linens, picking things from the top shelf and throwing them on the floor.

            “Need some help, Jen?”

            “Where the fuck is the fucking tape measure?”

            “We have a tape measure?”

            “Of course we do. What apartment doesn’t have a tape measure?”

            “Our apartment, I think.”

            Jen kept rummaging through the closet while she let out a giant “Fuuuucckk.”

            Abby had lived with Jen for almost 3 years, and knew better than to stop her and ask what was wrong. Instead, she got on her knees and started searching through the bottom shelves. She wasn’t really searching, just throwing things on the floor in a display of moral support.

            “Found it!” Jen signed a cross on her breast and thanked St. Anthony for the Christmas miracle. She jumped off the linens and went back to her mirror. Abby followed her with a curious smile.

            Jen wrapped the tape measure around her belly and let out a groan.

            “Do you think I’ll be thinner if I measure in centimeters instead?”

            “I’m sorry, Jen. I don’t think the metric system can help you here.”

            “Fucking Europeans.”

            “Man, I don’t think I’ve heard you curse this much since your delivery!”

            Jen sighed and turned away from the mirror. She looked at Abby and said, “I’m sorry. I’m just really nervous about the Christmas dinner party tomorrow. I’m really grateful you and Jet set me up with someone, but it’s my first date since the baby was born and I’m just really terrified. I haven’t actually been on a first date in ages, and this dress makes me look like I’m having a second child.”

            “What? You look freaking sexy! I would kill a man for your long legs. You gave birth just 3 months ago, so give yourself a break, won’t ya? And besides, Jet’s friend Oliver is really clumsy in front of women. Sweet guy, but he’s actually a blubbering idiot.”

            “You guys set me up with a blubbering idiot?!”

            “We figured you’d want to start with a practice date before your major league comeback.”

            “Ha. Thanks, I guess.”

            “So don’t sweat it tomorrow. Besides, no matter what happens, there’s always going to be plenty of fish in the sea.”

            “Yeah, but who wants to date a fish?”

********************************

            Jet and Oliver waited at the intersection for a walk signal. Oliver was wearing blue jeans with a white and blue buffalo plaid shirt and a black blazer, but he kept fidgeting with the blazer’s top button. First he buttoned the blazer for a more formal look. Then he decided it was best to play it casual and unbuttoned it. But he realized that his informality was a bit presumptuous and he buttoned it again, at which point he felt suffocated by the top button and fought back by unbuttoning it. Jet put his hand on Oliver’s shoulder to break the cycle.

            “Don’t get too anxious, Oliver. If you and Jen don’t hit it off, there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”

            “But Jet, I want to date girls.”

            “Then why can’t you ever actually talk to one?”

            “It’s not my fault. They… they have faces.”

            “Faces? Of course they have faces.”

            “But faces with eyes!”

            “Most women do!”

            “Eyes that judge!”

            “You’re thrown off by their eyes?”

            “It’s the worst, Jet. They’ll ask me a question, and then I take a minute to think of an answer because I don’t want to say something stupid like… diarrhea or… wage garnishment. But if I take more than ten seconds to say something, their eyes make me feel like I’m wearing a scarlet letter.”

            “Jen’s not a Puritan, Oliver. And her eyes are pretty nonjudgmental.”

            “How would you know? You’re always talking to women, with words and stuff. Complete sentences even. You don’t know what common men like me have to go through.”

            “If you’re the common man, then mankind will soon be extinct.”

            “You joke, but you have Abby. I haven’t been on a date in almost ten months.”

            “So?”

            “Ten months! Do you know what has happened in ten months? Countries have revolted! Wars have been started! Popes have been elected and…”

            “One. One pope was elected.”

            “Who knows how much the dating world has changed in ten months. Oh God, I’m bringing her flowers. What if women don’t like flowers anymore?”

            The signal finally said walk and Jet let out a deep breath. This was going to be a long night.

            They crossed the intersection and reached Abby and Jen’s Brooklyn apartment. Jet was about to press the buzzer for 3C when Oliver quickly grabbed his hand.

            “I have question,” Oliver said.

            “Yeah?”

            “How… how big are her breasts?”

            “What? I don’t know. B probably? That’s kind of a shallow question.” Jet reached again for the buzzer.

            “No, it’s the opposite of shallow.”

            “Well, I don’t want to be surprised. What if I get there and I’m just expecting B or maybe even C cups, and she opens the door with a giant pair of double Ds? I’ll be completely caught off guard! She’ll be asking for my coat two, maybe even three, times and I’ll just be staring down at her breasts! Like a pervert! But now I’m prepared. I won’t be surprised. She’ll open the door and ask for my coat and I’ll know exactly what to do.”

            Jet stood speechlessly on the stoop. Somehow, it actually made sense. He pressed the buzzer and they went inside. Jet was headed towards the stairs, but Oliver stopped at the vending machine.

            “Hey Jet, how often do you see a vending machine in an apartment building?”

            “Abby said it used to be a hotel that was converted. But the owner decided to keep one vending machine.”

            “Good thing. I need a little liquid courage.”

            “There’s no alcohol in there.”

            “That’s ok. I get brave from cola, too.”

            Jet began to feel a pang of sympathy for Oliver. He smiled as Oliver drank a bottle of Coke. And then another. And finally a third one.  If this man could somehow get through a whole night without explaining to someone the side effects of Viagra, maybe Jen would see through his clumsiness and find him somewhat adorable. Maybe.

            Oliver swallowed the last of his Coke, took a deep breath, and said, “I think I can do this.”

********************************

            Jen opened the door in a blue and orange spring dress that was parted in the middle by a wide and tightly wound gray belt which she used to hold in her belly.

            “Hey Jen, this is my friend Oliver. He’s a contracts lawyer at my firm.”

            “Hi, Oliver. Thanks so much for coming. Can I take your coat?”

            “Yes. Thanks so much for having me over.”

            Oliver winked at Jet as he took off his coat. He found a little confidence within him and presented the orange roses he had brought. Jen thanked him and took them to the kitchen. She had just grabbed a pair of kitchen scissors when she heard the baby crying.

            “Hey, Oliver, do you mind putting these in a vase while I check up on my daughter?”

            “No, not at all!”

            Jen handed Oliver the scissors and headed down the hallway. Oliver cut the stems in half diagonally, filled the vase halfway with water, and placed the orange roses inside. He then carefully set the vase on the window sill, where it sat beautifully in contrast with the blue window for a whole minute before it fell to the street below.

********************************

            Jen entered her bedroom to find Jet already rocking the baby back to sleep. She went to the mirror and adjusted the cleavage on her dress. Then she turned to her side and sighed at her belly. She spoke in a whisper.

            “Your friend Oliver is actually pretty cute.”

            “Yeah, he’s a great guy once you get to know him. But most people don’t give him a chance.”

            Jen walked to her bed and sat next to Jet.

            “Is he a good lawyer?”

            “He’s actually one of our best. He has a really good eye for details, and he always helps me analyze my cases from a fresh perspective.”

            “But…”

            “Why do you assume there’s a ‘but’?”

            “There’s always a ‘but’.”

            “As Kim Kardashian is my witness, there is no ‘but’ to this man.”

            “Abby already told me he’s clumsy around women.”

            “Goddammit.”

            Jet got up to put the baby back in her crib. “Where is Abby, anyway?”

            “In the bathroom. She’s taking a while, too. It’s probably number two. You should go check up on her.”

            “Yeah, maybe I will. And maybe I’ll kill all the romance in our relationship while I’m at it.”

            “Why prolong what’s only inevitable?”

            “I refuse to acknowledge that Abby shits.”

            “Oh God, you’re one of those men. Her butt isn’t just for ogling, you know? Her butt has a function, and it’s not dispensing potpourri. It’s dispensing….”

            Jet stared Jen down, almost daring her to say it.

            “…SHIT.”

            Jet broke into a smile that he vainly tried to suppress. Jen broke into a fit of whispered giggles. Abby walked into the room and discovered what she could only describe as a couple of mimes doing their best impression of girls in a high school cafeteria.

            “What’s so funny?”

            “Oh, hi darling.” Jet walked up to Abby and kissed her bright red lips. “We were just discussing what you were doing in the bathroom.”

            Jet and Jen watched as Abby’s cheeks changed color to match her lips. They started giggling again.

            “How much wine have you two had to drink?” Abby asked.

            “A vineyard’s worth. You were in there for quite a while,” Jen replied.

            “She’s kidding,” Jet said. He put his arm around Abby’s waist and pulled her in for a hug.

            Oliver walked into the room to deliver sad news concerning the fate of some orange flowers. But as he stood behind Abby, he forgot to introduce himself and was instead distracted by the sheet of toilet paper sticking out of the waist of Abby’s skirt.

            Abby began to explain that she wasn’t actually shitting in the bathroom, much to Jet’s relief. Actually, she had taken a piss only to find that the toilet wouldn’t flush. So she took the toilet apart to analyze what mechanism wasn’t working.

            Oliver didn’t hear what Abby was saying and instead focused on carefully extracting the toilet paper without causing anyone embarrassment. It should have been a simple operation, but Oliver quickly found himself mired in complications when it turned out that the first sheet was actually attached to a second sheet, which was in fact attached to a third sheet. As Abby continued to explain why house guests shouldn’t make assumptions about what ladies are accomplishing whilst in the lavatory, Oliver managed to remove five consecutive sheets of toilet paper.

            Jen and Jet had been watching Oliver the entire time, while attempting to keep straight faces, nodding along as Abby’s explanation of her recent bathroom activities began to grow suspiciously long. They were the perfect actors for the first four sheets, but when Oliver removed a fifth sheet like a tactical team rescuing Chilean miners, Jen and Jet both burst into laughter.

            “Why are you guys laughing at me? Stop!”

            Jet was still laughing, and fell to the floor and grabbed his knees. He pointed to Oliver, and Abby turned around to face him.

            Oliver looked into Abby’s judgmental eyes and held out a banner of toilet paper.

            “I… I believe this is yours.”

            Abby wasn’t amused. “You know, I heard you were clumsy, but this is beyond the pale, don’t you think?” She stared Oliver down until she could see beads of sweat on his forehead.

            “Uhm, I uhm, I, uuhh I was trying to help… defend you… from allegations of pooping.”

            “How the fuck were you helping me?”

            Oliver’s mouth moved in random directions until it finally put the words together.

            “Evidence discovery.”

            Jet smiled. “You’d make a fucking terrible defense lawyer, Oliver.”

            The baby woke up from all the noise and started to cry. Jen lifted her out of her crib and began to rock her back to sleep by the window of her bedroom. The rest of them left the room to give mother and daughter some space. Abby made a beeline for the kitchen to find a bottle of wine, only to realize the apartment was temporarily dry. She walked back to Jen’s room and said, “Hey, the lasagna’s in the oven but we’re actually out of wine, so I’m gonna head out and pick some up. How’s zinfandel?”

            “Zinfandel’s good. Some Moscato and Malvasia, too, I think.”

            “Huh. Practice date not going well?”

            “Actually, we haven’t had a chance to talk. I don’t know. Maybe he’s not so bad. Maybe a little wine can help me find out.”

            “Easy for you to say. I just had toilet paper pulled out of my underwear.”

            “Ha. That one’s actually a little your fault.”

            “Yeah yeah. I’ll take Jet with me and give you a chance to either fall in love or come to your senses.”

            “Thanks.”

            “Oh, by the way, Jet asked about the tape measure on your nightstand.”

            “What did you say?!”

            “I asked him about the tape measure on his nightstand.”

            “Ha! Thanks. What is it with boys and dick-measuring like it’s a hobby?”

            “Hobby? Jet’s a corporate lawyer. Dick-measuring’s his career.”

********************************

            Jet and Abby held hands as they walked past the vending machine and headed out the apartment.

            “Your friend Oliver is a real piece of work, you know that?”

            “He means well. Besides, you’re the one who did mental gymnastics trying to convince us you weren’t shitting.”

            “I did it for you!”

            “For me?! Goddamn you’re sweet. What’s next? An emotional sermon blaming my dog for your sleep farts?”

            “I do not!”

            “Oh right. It was probably the construction work the city was doing – at 3 AM.”

            “Fuck you. You don’t know what it’s like having to be a ninja every time I use the bathroom at your apartment so you don’t see or hear me.”

            “So you admit you were shitting?”

            “Yeah. And you want to know something else?”

            “Your ass dispenses potpourri?”

            “No, I ran out of clean underwear last night. I’m actually wearing one of your boxers right now.”

            “NO! Oh God. I think I liked it better when we pretended you didn’t shit.”

            “Shouldn’t have opened Pandora’s shitbox then, motherfucker.”

            “So do you want to break up now or after the dinner party?”

            “Oh, please. I can turn you on in ten seconds or less, anytime, anywhere.”

            “I don’t think so, honey. I think we’ve crossed the Rubicon.”

            “Hmm. I need clean underwear.”

            “So?”

            “There’s a Victoria’s Secret two blocks from here.”

            Jet’s jaw dropped, and Abby stared at him with sex in her smile and lust in her eyes. He paused for a moment while he weighed his options.

            “We’ll get there faster if I carry you,” he said. Then, he scooped her up in his arms and ran.

            She kissed him on his ear and felt on top of the world.

********************************

            Oliver stood by the doorway to Jen’s bedroom with his eyes closed. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and went inside. The baby had just fallen asleep, and she was resting peacefully in her mother’s arms.

            “What’s her name?”

            “Patience.”

            “Patience? Long delivery?”

            “No, long pregnancy. I’m kind of thankful though. I think I’m a better mom for it.”

            “You are a great mom.”

            “Thanks. You’re sweet.”

            Oliver looked at baby Patience’s face. Sometimes he felt that babies were given the wrong name. One time he met a baby named Clarence that was clearly an Andrew. Another time, he babysat his nephew Zachary, and it bothered him that Zachary was undeniably a Sean. But looking down at Patience in that moment, she was definitely a Patience. She looked like she was waiting for something.

            “What are you thinking about, Oliver?”

            “You daughter’s name. It’s perfect.”

            “You know, you’re not as clumsy with your words as Abby told me you’d be.”

            “In her defense, this doesn’t really feel like a first date right now.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean, I’m not terrified. Or worried about what’s going to happen next. I feel… I feel content.”

            “You know, I was actually a little terrified before you came, too.”

            “Seriously? What do you have to be terrified about?”

            “I was just feeling really self-conscious. It’s my first first-date in years and all I could think about was how big my belly looks in this dress. It seems so silly now.”

            “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t even notice your belly.”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah, I was too distracted by your boobs.”

            “Ha!”

            Jen offered a wide smile that she seemed to have been saving for years. Oliver smiled too, because, for once in his life, his foot wasn’t stuck in his mouth.

            “Do you want to hold her?”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Yeah. I’d love to.”

            Oliver held out his arms, and Jen placed Patience securely between his chest and his forearms. Patience was asleep, but she leaned into Oliver’s chest, almost as if to touch his heart with her hand.

            Oliver looked at the window and saw their reflection. For the first time in years, he saw himself as he was… and smiled. 

[renoj]

Inappropriate Dinner Conversations: The Story

                  Abby stared at Jet without a retort. It happened sometimes, and she hated it. She hated it every time he lawyered her and left her stumbling for words. But she couldn’t stay mad at him for long. For a 29 year old, he was an incredibly impressive lawyer, and one of the most promising new recruits at the firm her organization held on retainer. She watched him drink his diet ginger ale with a smirk, as if he was basking in the glow of a courthouse victory. Her manager loved him, and she would never say a word.

                Abby put down her menu, ready for round 2. “You know, you don’t always have to act like you’re Socrates.”

                “Well, the world doesn’t need another Ke$ha.”

                “Even Socrates had a drink once in a while.”

                “Poison. That drink was poison.”

                He had a point there. Whatever. “To each his own,” she said. “Ke$ha and I will stick with a bottle of Jack.”

                It wasn’t an entire bottle, but she did have a flask of Jack in her hands. She didn’t even try to hide it from the waiter.  It wasn’t her health he was worried about. Abby had the petit frame of a cute schoolteacher that every boy had a crush on in the 7th grade. But she had the alcohol tolerance of a Russian weightlifter. To anyone who didn’t know her well, she was a paradox. Her demeanor was inviting and warm, but any attempt to actually know her would leave a man stranded in the Gobi without a lifeline. But Jet had noticed her increased drinking over the past few months. He had known her less than a year, but the change upset him. He wanted to say something, but he was also afraid of the Gobi. He decided to keep it going instead.

                “You’re unbelievable, you know that, Abby? No wonder your boss hates you.”

                “My boss is a prick who would suck his own dick if he could.”

                “That sounds efficient.”

                “Of course you would defend anyone who hates me. The only thing he’s efficient at is eating cucumbers and banging his secretary.”

                “Seriously?”

                “Yeah, he eats them whole. It’s a Freudian gold mine.”

                “Not that. He’s sleeping with Janice?”

                “Why do you know her name?”

                “I always try to remember names.”

                “Well, yeah, they’re having an affair. Now I’m as feminist as the next girl from Barnard, but this may be the only way she’ll ever get a promotion.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “She’s incompetent. And overweight. The only way she’s ever going to break that glass ceiling is if she sits on it.”

                Jet pondered this for a moment. Janice was actually very kind. Yes, her chair had been getting replaced with a bigger one every month, and yes, she always ended up dropping his call the first time whenever he tried to reach her manager, but she was sweet, and always asked him about his dog.

                “Wait, how can someone sit on a ceiling?”

                “How can someone break three office chairs?”

                “Fair enough. I can’t believe you work for a union.”

                “Yeah. Sometimes I feel like a wolf in a sheep pen.”

                “At least you don’t have a wool coat.”

                “Ha. Wait till December.”

                After dinner, the waiter came by came to check up on them, and make sure everything was okay. It was fine, and Abby said just that, but now she sat back and watched as Jet struck up a conversation with the waiter.

                “Thanks so much, Darren. We’re always happy when we come here. I think this time, for dessert, we’ll let you surprise us. How’s Lela and the boys?”

                “They’re great, Jet. Bobby’s still the smartypants in second grade and Norris just…”

                “Made the football team?!”

                “Yes!”

                Abby counted how many times she had taken Jet to this restaurant since they met at work. Three times. She’d been here at least a dozen times before that and still didn’t know the waiter’s name. What did he say it was? Daryl?

                Jet turned around and smiled at Abby. She loved his smile, and sometimes she wanted to punch it right off his face.

                “Thanks for taking time away from your family reunion to talk to me, Jet.”

                His smile disappeared, and he was momentarily confused.

                “You used to be such a sweet girl. Now you’re just an ugly cynical shell of your former self. Who hurt you, Abby?”

                “You used to not be an asshole, Jet. What girl stuck you up her privates and made you such a douchebag?”

                “See, this is why we never dated. Every time I try to be vulnerable and get to know you, you compare me to a feminine hygiene device.”

                “That was you being vulnerable?! You called me ugly!”

                “I said your shell is ugly! What’s beneath that is open to debate.”

                “OH. Thank you so much for clarifying, Jet. You’re the warm white knight this trapped princess has been praying for to melt her ice fortress prison and possess her heart.”

                Jet paused, and, for a second, his demeanor softened, before it stiffened right back up.

                “Sarcasm?” he asked.

                “Do you hear that sound? That’s my emotional clothes dropping to the floor as I bare my soul.”

                “So… yes?”

                “I’ve never felt closer to you.”

                “Definitely yes.”

                “Is this what love feels like?

                “This is the last time I ever attempt emotional intimacy.”

                “This is the last time I let you take me to dinner.”

                Jet leaned back against his chair with his shoulders straight. “Oh, so you’re having frozen lasagna for one then, tomorrow night? That sounds like a special occasion that’s absolutely never happened before. I should call Lean Cuisine and let them know.”

                Jet pulled out his phone and pretended to dial it. Abby’s eyes widened.

                “Hello? Lean Cuisine? Do you sell any frozen dinner designed uniquely for former prom queens who are way past their prime and overwhelmed by emotional baggage that no man is willing to touch? Oh, those are the only kinds of dinners you make?! Carping regret-filled women are your company’s bread and butter?!”

                He nodded his head as he listened to his phone with rapt attention.

                “There’s no effing way that’s written in your company’s mission statement! Word-for-word? Wow. Your CEO founded Lean Cuisine to feed his ex-wife and her friends? That’s incredible. Oh, thank you so much, Rajiv. You’ve been immensely informative.”

                Jet hung up the phone, and Abby stared at him with her mouth wide open. She said nothing, and he began to worry that he had crossed a line. If he had ever wondered whether he would get a chance to finally see Abby let her guard down, maybe this stare was a sign that that ship was sailing away far into the distance.

                “Hahahahahaha!”

Abby laughed uncontrollably, almost falling out of her chair like a secretary they knew. Jet finally exhaled, and said, “They have really great customer service.”

                                                                ****************

                After they finished their chocolate cake layered with caramel flan, Jet helped Abby put on her jacket, and even held the door for her as they left. It was a first, she thought. As they walked to their cars, she remembered something.

                “Oh by the way, Jen and I are having a party at out apartment this weekend. She asked me to invite you.”

                “Your roommate?”

                “Yeah. I think she loves you. I’m not sure why.”

                “But she barely knows me!”

                “That’s why.”

                “You sure it’s not you who loves me?”

                “Love you? I despise you.”

                “And yet we’re on a date.”

                “This isn’t a date. This is divine punishment.”

                “Then why did you let me pay?” he asked.

                “Even inmates get free meals.”

                “It’s settled. I’m dumping you for your roommate.”

                “She only likes you because I told her you’re writing a screenplay.”

                “I’m writing a novel!”

                “Everyone and their gay uncle is writing a novel. I wanted her to think you’re unique.”

                “And what’s in it for you, eHarmony?”

                “Can you imagine the wedding invitations? JET ‘N’ JEN. You’ll get propellers for wedding presents!”

                It was a bad joke, but Jet smiled helplessly. “Damn it, Abby. First of all, jet engines were invented to replace propellers. Second, I despise you. Thir – ...why are you holding my hand?”

                “Huh? Oh shit.”

                “What?”

                “…I’m sorry. I don’t know why…”

                She was staring at the ground, mumbling, and apologizing profusely. This wasn’t the Abby he knew. “Actually, I probably grabbed it by accident. How’s that for divine punishment?”

                She lifted her head up with a weak smile, and said, “Buddha’s cruel.”

                “Screw you. I hope you’re reincarnated as a lonely eunuch.

                “I hope you’re reincarnated as my useless dick.”

                “I’m a good person!”

`               “But karma’s a bitch.”

                Abby smiled at him from her car, got in, and drove off. Jet stood outside his sedan door, lit up a cigarette, and stared at the moon.

                                                                ****************

Beep. Beep. Brrippp. PLOP.

From the moment he heard the PLOP, Jet knew he had made a mistake. It wasn’t fatal, but it would be enough to distract him for the next minute thinking about what could have been.

“Jet, I’ve been waiting here for two minutes watching you stare open-mouthed at that vending machine. It’s just a soda, not Sophie’s Choice. In certain jurisdictions, it’s illegal to make a pregnant lady stand this long.”

Jet snapped out of his daydream. He had gotten so lost in thought in the lobby of Abby’s apartment building, that he hadn’t even realized that her roommate Jen had been standing right behind him. He smiled from ear to ear and gave her a hug.

“Jen! Hey! I didn’t see you and… wait, you’re pregnant?!”

“Ha, yeah! It’s not just fat, I swear! I guess the last time I saw you was when we met, and I wasn’t showing then. I’m surprised Abby didn’t tell you!”

“Yeah, me too. How are you?”

“I’m well! Just itching for a lemonade I hope I can taste before my delivery. They only have beer upstairs. What’s with the wait?”

The real reason had nothing to do with soft drinks. Jet was procrastinating about walking up to Abby’s apartment and he didn’t know why. So he figured it was better not to tell Jen.

“I’m sorry. I’m just really horrible with decisions. They didn’t have diet ginger ale, and I couldn’t decide between the regular ginger ale and the water. Now I’m wishing I stuck with the water.”

“Why the buyer’s remorse?”

Jet the lawyer was quick to make up a reason. “Calorie guilt.”

“Calorie guilt? You look no older than 25! And you’re so skinny! My God. First the girls, now the men. Anorexia claims another victim.”

“My generation can never catch a break.”

“Ha!”

She had an unabashed laugh that was accompanied by the warmest smile Jet had ever seen. Why had he never noticed it before? It caught him off-guard and he needed a minute to reevaluate the woman in front of him. Yes, she was pregnant, but there was no way she was older than 25. Her straight brunette hair stretched down to her shoulder, and she was pretty slender, at least for a pregnant lady. But all of that was irrelevant to who she was – she was her smile. It was her defining characteristic, the Eiffel of Paris, the ball of Times Square, the Rushmore of South Dakota, the...”

Jen picked up her lemonade and asked Jet what great dilemma he seemed to be currently contemplating.

“The defining feature of London. The Queen? The fog?”

“Big Ben.” She was quick, too. “I like to think it’s nice to have a towering reminder that life keeps moving.”

“Who needs a clock when you’ve got a baby?”

Jet realized right away that he had put his foot in his mouth. Suddenly, he was very eager to go upstairs. “Shall we head up to the party?”

“Yes!” Jen’s smile returned and she put her hand on his arm as he led her up the stairs.

“So, when are you due, and who’s the lucky baby daddy?”

“A week ago.” Her voice had that tone of frustration unique to pregnant women. “Daddy doesn’t want to help with the baby, so Daddy’s now an ex.”

“I’m sorry, Jen…”

“Don’t be. I’m better off without him. All I need is for this heavy bundle of joy to stop mooching and pop out. Three other women in this building have given birth this past month. It seems like everyone else can catch a break, but not me.”

“Three? Wow what are the chances of that?”

“I know, right? It’s like little Cupid played a violent video game and went on a shooting spree.”

As they walked up the stairs, another couple walked down and stopped to say hello.

“Jet, this is Rick and Natasha, who is also very pregnant, as you can tell.”

Natasha bubbled over, “I know! We should make a club! You’re practically a veteran mem…” And just then Natasha’s water broke. All over the stairs. Rick picked her up in his bulky arms and carried her outside.

When they were out of earshot, Jen began to grumble. “She’s not even due yet! Goddamn, I hate her.”

“What should we do about all this, um, water?”

“Oh don’t worry about it. I’m sure the janitors will clean it up.”

The dance music from the third floor apartment could be heard from the staircase. The bass rattled the handrails.  Abby’s face lit up when she saw Jet and Jen at the door. “What took you so long?”

“I’m just fashionably late,” Jet replied.

Abby chuckled. “Fashionable? Your khakis aren’t ironed, one of your Chucks’ shoelaces is untied, your lime polo is tucked in the back but hanging out in the front, your white tee underneath is peeking through your half-sleeves, and… are those bangs? Since when do you show up without your hair slicked back?”

“I guess this is our first time hanging on a weekend. Let me introduce you to out-of-the-office Jet.”

“Hmpph. I don’t…”

Jen interrupted. “I think he looks cute. You should invite him more often.” Jen smiled at Jet and walked inside. Jet followed her like a puppy, Abby thought. He wondered why Jen said it was Abby who invited him.

Jet followed Jen to the kitchen and she put on mitts to grab something out of the oven.

“In case Abby didn’t tell you, tonight’s theme is Bacon. This is a bacon party, my friend, and if it’s your first, you’re in for a treat. We’ve got fried bacon, baked bacon, candied bacon, toasted bacon, bacon-covered sushi, bacon-filled brownies and whatever else my imagination can come up with. And if you’re vegetarian, well fuck you, there’s broccoli in the fridge.

Jet had never been to a bacon-party but he began to drool at the possibilities. Jen had just pulled a tray of bacon out of the oven when they heard a loud commotion outside the kitchen window. People were cursing.

“What’s going on out there?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Our kitchen window sill is a little slanted, so when all these drunk people inside put their beers on the sill, the bottles end up falling outside on whoever is walking by.”

The men were still yelling, so Jen went up to the window and screamed back down at them. “This is Brooklyn, bitch! If you can’t handle some broken glass, go back to fucking Staten Island!”

Jen was funny and fierce, and she was holding a tray of bacon. Jet couldn’t help but stare longingly at her candied bacon, when Abby grabbed him and pulled him aside.

“Stop staring at my pregnant roommate!”

“Why didn’t you tell me she was pregnant?”

“I thought it would be funny if you found out like this. I thought we could laugh about it. Instead, all I see is you gushing at her with drool coming from your mouth.”

“In my defense, I was staring at her bacon.”

Abby went and sat on the couch, and crossed her arms. Jet realized his legs were moving in place. “Harlem Shake” was playing and he was doing the running man. He run-danced all the way to the couch and grabbed Abby’s hand. She got up and he brought her close to his hips. She put her arm around his neck, her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.

“It’s the Harlem Shake! We’re not at prom!” Jet bent his arm back to grab Abby’s hand that was on his shoulder. He spun her around and let go. Out-of-the-office Jet moonwalked to the middle of the living room, where he began to show off his moves: the Macarena, the twist, the shopping cart dance, and Gangnam style. Jen walked in and Jet got on all fours like a horse, while she pretended to be a jockey. Their Psy impersonation was spot on, and the whole crowd of people in the room circled them and clapped.

Abby had left halfway into the shopping cart, to sit by herself in the dark in Jen’s room behind a pile of coats. What did she care that people liked Jet? That Jen liked Jet? He could have ten babies with Jen and teach them all the Macarena for all she cared. Abby looked out the window and stared at the moon.

Jet and Jen walked in and didn’t seem to notice the girl behind the coats. They sat down on the bed, and Jen put her legs up and rested her swollen ankles on Jet’s knees.

“That’s the last time I ever try to ride a horse while pregnant. Every part of my body hurts.”

“No, you kicked ass out there!”

“Really? To be honest, I’ve missed doing things, having someone around to do things with. But I need to ask you something. What’s the deal with you and Abby?”

“There’s no deal between me and Abby. Believe me, I’ve wondered. But I’m pretty confident nothing will ever happen between us. Not unless pigs can fly.

Abby emerged from her den of coats and left the room. Jet looked confused, but Jen didn’t.

“You should go after her.”

He followed after her and left the apartment. She walked down stairs without a word, and he called out to her, “Abby, what the crap just happened? What did I say? Why won’t you – “

Jet slipped in a puddle of dirty water and banged his head on the stairs.

                                                                ****************

“There’s no cuts on your head, and no signs of concussion. I don’t need you to ride to the hospital, but do see a doctor if the pain comes back.” The paramedics packed their bags and were ready to leave when they got a call from dispatch. “Ten-four. It looks like we’ll be here for a little while longer. Dispatch says a woman in your building just went into labor.”

Jet turned to Abby, who was sitting next to him on the stoop.

“Jen?”

“My roommate is more than able to handle her own. You don’t need to go running up there only to slip into more body fluids.” She smiled at him. Affectionately. He felt so warm and didn’t understand why his stomach hurt. It wasn’t ulcers. It was butterflies.

“You know, Abby, none of this would have happened if you had just opened up to me.”

“I know. It’s hard, you know? We’re always joking around so much and we’re so good at it. Inappropriate dinner conversations are our thing and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

“I know. But we’re friends. Friends need to be able to talk to each other when they’re feeling something.”

“Well, then, friend, uhm, the past few months have been really rough on me. I was representing the confectioners’ union at Hostess, and it was my idea to start the strike. I really believed management was going to cave, right up until they filed for bankruptcy and liquidated the company.”

“Wait, you’re the reason I couldn’t buy Twinkies for three months?! I mean… I’m sorry, Abby. I wish you told me that earlier. I’m here for you.” Jet thought about how vulnerable Abby was right now. He had never seen this side of her. He decided to reciprocate. “So, the last few months, while you started drinking more, I kind of quit. My sister’s car was hit by a drunk driver in the summer.”

“Holy crap.”

“Well, she’s okay. She was fine then, too. But it just really made me want to quit drinking, at least whenever I know I have to drive home.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I… I don’t know. Truth be told, there’s a lot of things I’ve had trouble telling you in the past. If I’m going to be honest, I guess I should start by saying that I have feelings for you and – why are you holding my hand?”

Abby stared at him, and her red lips smiled ear to ear. “Huh. Oh. Shit.” She squeezed his hand harder, rested her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.

Jet stared at the moon, and desperately hoped a herd of pigs would fly by. Suddenly, a tray of bacon fell from the window sill above them and hit a man walking by.

“Close enough.”

He turned to her, put his hand behind her ear, and kissed her.

                                                                ****************

Upstairs, in apartment 3C, Jen tied a bag of garbage from the party and headed to the trash room on her floor. As she opened her door, she saw her neighbor being wheeled out by paramedics.

“Jennifer! My goodness! I’m going into labor two weeks early!”

“Fuck you, Beatrice!”

She dropped the trash, walked right back into her apartment, and slammed the door. 

[renoj]

Fly

You’re asking me to fly, But I’m too happy on the ground. You cannot still love me, If I’m the weight you drag around.

How can I give you enough?

I’m an apathetic caterpillar, Afraid of his cocoon, You’re asking me to grow wings – Too much, honey. Too soon.

How can I give you enough?

If you don’t leave me soon, You’re going to be consumed, By “what could have been”s, And “what should have been”s, And we’ll be shells of “what we would’ve been”s If we had the courage to call it quits.

Some nights I look at the sky and think, Darling, you’re meant to soar.

And I will never, ever, be enough.

[renoj]

Auto Show

Based on a true story from 2011.

It was 2 AM, and we still had a lot of cramming to do before finals. As we walked to NYU's Bobst Library, Jess started telling me about what happened in the study group the night before. 

"So Joann and I were working on the orgo project for Professor Okarafor when... Holy shit. Is that guy having sex with a car?"

I thought the interjection was part of her story until I stopped to see what she was staring at and, "Oh shit. That dude is having sex with a car."

A Ford Focus, to be exact. With the tailpipe, specifically.

Jess tried to pull me out of my trance. "We should keep walking, instead of watching like pervs."

But I couldn't be saved. I had to ask. "Is the other dude filming it?"

"Walk!," she yelled, as she pulled my arm.

Once we were several blocks away from the, ahem, filmmakers, I had a terrible epiphany.

"Oh god. We're going to be extras in a porno."

[renoj]

Morning After

Shana opened her groggy eyes and realized this was not her bedroom. The walls were a dark pastel blue with simple white moldings that accented the shelves and closets. The bed frame was beech wood that reflected the warm sunshine breaking through the metallic blinds of the picture window. It was the kind of warmth that made you want to take a deep breath as you gently stretched your limbs and closed your eyes, without giving a second thought to whose bedroom you were in. Shana arched her back and bent her knees, like a newborn baby, with her arm over the softest, silkiest, fluffiest body pillow she had ever held. Who needs a boyfriend?, she wondered. She drifted back to sleep with a small grin on her face that revealed her overwhelming sense of comfort and security in a stranger’s home. She was the big spoon, and the Lonely Hearts Sleeping Companion™ from page 3 of October’s Bed Bath & Beyond catalog was her lover.

Shana was jerked awake some hours later. It wasn’t by the cold clammy hand of a tall bearded kidnapper, with tweezers, dirty sneakers, and a monkey wrench.  Nor was it by the kiss of a recent lover, with sensuous lips, a sculpted jaw, right-sized biceps peeking through his t-shirt that let you know he worked out but also had a life outside the gym, and a white smile that just whispered to you, “I made breakfast. I hope you like scrambled eggs and pancakes, but if you don’t, I can make you anything you want because I cook and I help out around the house.” No, what woke her up was the pungent, savory and at the same time revolting smell of curry that filled her nostrils. She jumped out of the bed and landed on her feet, only to realize that she was still wearing the short leopard-print skirt and low-cut sheer black blouse that she had worn to Ziggy’s 90s Bar last night. Memories of the night before were slowly starting to come back to her, like a series of beach balls bobbing down a river. It had been her birthday, and she had gone home with a mild-mannered Indian man who dressed surprisingly well for an Indian man. He had said something about working the next day, and that he lived with his… mother? Grandmother?

It didn’t matter now. Whoever she was, she was probably cooking whole pots of chicken, beef, and goat curries for what she hoped would be her first breakfast with her future daughter-in-law. Shana grabbed her black heels – well, heel, because she couldn’t find the second one – and tiptoed out of the bedroom, down the creaking wooden stairs and out of the house. She stood flat-footed on the tiled granite porch, relaxed her shoulders and let out a deep sigh of relief. Through the window, she glimpsed the back of a small and thin woman, wearing a beautiful magenta sari emblazoned with gold borders. Her hair was in a bun, mostly black, with streaks of gray. Shana walked down the stairs with all the poise and grace of any hung over woman, and sauntered into the sun. 

[renoj]

Bubblegum Romance

Little chubby Bobby, in his khaki shorts and too-small-for-him t-shirt, entered the town’s candy store much like a honeybee enters a lily field – ready to leave his mark. He walked down the aisles with an air of pretentiousness and pedantry usually reserved for wine connoisseurs.

“Ahh, East Street Marshmallows. They’re a small producer that uses only the rarest and finest corn syrup from the hilltop fields of Paraguay,” he said with an authoritative voice to anyone who would listen, which was literally no one. But for his all his pretentiousness, Bobby was actually just a gentle and kindhearted eight-year old, filled with wonder, innocence, and cavities.

As he left the store with a bag filled to the brim with lollipops, bubblegum, chocolate bars, Nerds, Sweet Tarts, and his precious East Street Marshmallows, Bobby noticed his classmate Jay standing outside the store. Jay wore a faux-leather jacket and sunglasses with the lenses popped out. He also had two facial hairs which he proudly pointed out to the girls in his class. He was two years older than Bobby, he held gummy worms in his mouth like they were cigarettes, and he was Bobby’s hero.

Jay skimmed the contents of Bobby’s bag as Bobby waited earnestly for Jay’s approval. Jay grabbed the box of Nerds and began to stuff a handful of the purple ones in his mouth. As he chewed obnoxiously, he said, “I hope you didn’t pay for this here candy like a goody-two-shoes. See this here jacket? I stole it from a 6th-grader. Because I do what I want.”

Bobby stared open-mouthed at Jay and accepted the fact that Jay had reached a level of cool that was unattainable for him. He didn’t know that Jay’s jacket was actually a gift from his mother, which she bought at Macy’s, on sale, for Christmas, along with Jay’s favorite pair of polyester socks.

Bobby and Jay began to walk home together. They lived on adjacent streets, and usually walked to and from the bus stop as a pair on a school days. Jay was the oldest child in the class, but made sure everyone knew that he was in the third grade only because he wanted to be in it. He said that the teachers begged him to move up with the kids his age, or even skip a year, but that he cared little for what his teachers wanted, and he detested the politics of 5th grade. Bobby always used their walks as an opportunity to seek Jay’ advice on a myriad of issues pertinent to an eight-year-old boy, and Jay was always eager to offer it. Their walks were usually uneventful, but today was different. Today, they found a man lying on the sidewalk.

To say the boys were frightened would have been an understatement. Bobby looked to Jay to see what he would do. Jay began to approach the man, until the man let out a moan.

“Bobby, maybe you should check on him. He might get scared if he sees me in my leather jacket.” Bobby approached the man and began to speak in a feeble voice, a dozen decibels lower than usual, and an octave higher.

“…Hi…sir…are you… okay?”

“Bobby Hankyson, is that you? It’s me, Jeff Blomwurst, from across the street!”

Bobby Hankyson finally exhaled as he realized that the scary man on the floor was really just Jeff Blomwurst from across the street. Jeff and Bobby had rode the school bus together every day until Jeff graduated from high school last year, ready to educate the world about climate change and make a difference, as soon as he got his Associate’s degree at community college. Yes, Jeff was the only senior on the school bus that year, but he always reminded the younger children that the only reason he didn’t take his Driver’s test was because carpooling was better for the environment. It had absolutely nothing to do with that one time his parents forgot him in the car when he was a child, while they shopped at Macy’s.

Jay also realized it was just Jeff, and decided to take control of the situation. “Jeff, it’s me, Jay Harripo! How you doin’, old pal? And why is your face stuck to the ground?”

Jeff paused, and his cheeks turned red. He then began to explain his situation, borrowing Bobby’s feeble voice.

“I, uhm, well, I was walking down Roosevelt for my daily bonding time with nature when I realized that if I love Mother Earth as much as I say I do, then I really shouldn’t call her Mother Earth. I should call her Girlfriend Earth. So then thought, well, how do I show my Girlfriend Earth my love and affection? How do I treat her right? I thought about it, and I referred back to all my experiences with women for some guidance and I remembered the time I took my cousin Rhonda to the prom and she told me that it’s really important for guys to listen to women and to trim their eyebrows, so I decided to listen to what Girlfriend Earth was saying and I put my ear to the ground, but there was some bubblegum on the ground that I didn’t see, and now my face is stuck.”

Bobby took in everything Jeff said, and found himself slightly confused. “Jeff, if you were listening to the ground then why is the gum stuck to your bottom lip and not your ear?”

Jeff was upset. He hesitated, before he sheepishly said, “OK, I wasn’t listening to my girlfriend. I was kissing her.”

Jay laid down on the floor so he was eye-level with Jeff. He also had a question. “Jeff, I think some of the gum is stuck to the corner of your tongue, too.”

Jeff was exasperated and mumbled something. Everyone was uncomfortable but Jay managed to ask Jeff to speak up. Jeff became angry and shouted his response.

“I said, I was French-kissing the sidewalk!”

The three of them said nothing for a few minutes. Finally, Jay spoke up. “The STREETS be dangerous,” he said, using a tone he heard in a movie once.

“What do YOU know about “STREETS?,” Jeff asked, with obvious condescension.

“Well, I know enough not to kiss them.”

Jeff grimaced and held his tongue, which was easier to do than usual because the sidewalk helped.

Jay continued, “You know, my parents always knew I was destined for the gangster life. That’s why they named me after a former drug dealer and rap icon.”

When Bobby heard this, he was amazed, but Jeff was incredulous and made sure Jay knew how much of a tool he was.

“You think you’re named after Jay-Z? Jay, your parents are fucking ornithologists and you’re named after the pansiest bird in all of the pansiest forest.”

Jay finally shut up. Jeff continued to make out with the ground. Bobby sat down and contemplated a world in which delicious candy could actually hurt people.

“Could it be true? Is my whole life a lie?!”

It wouldn’t make sense to Bobby until he was 12 and diagnosed with Type II diabetes. 

[renoj]

Pillow

Baby, come and rest your head a bit. I'll be someone to share your sorrows with. I'll put my world on hold every time you cry. Just tell me where it hurts and I'll tell you why.

[renoj]

Inappropriate Dinner Conversation #3

Walking home from dinner.

Abby: Oh by the way, Jen and I are having a house-warming party this weekend. She asked me to invite you.

Jet: Your roommate? 

Abby: Yeah, I think she loves you. I'm not sure why.

Jet: But she barely knows me!

Abby: There's why.

Jet: You sure it's not you who loves me?

Abby: Love you? I despise you.

Jet: And yet we're on a date.

Abby: This isn't a date. This is divine punishment. 

Jet: Then why did you let me pay?

Abby: Even inmates get free meals.

Jet: It's settled. I'm dumping you for your roommate.

Abby: She only likes you because I told her you're writing a screenplay.

Jet: I'm writing a novel!

Abby: Everyone and their gay uncle is writing a novel. I wanted her to think you're unique.

Jet: And what's in it for you, eHarmony?

Abby: Can you imagine the wedding invitations? JET 'N' JEN !! You'll get propellers for wedding presents!

Jet: Damn it, Abby. First of all, jet engines were invented to replace propellers. Second, I despise you. Third, - ... Why are you holding my hand?

Abby: Huh? Oh shit.

Jet: What?

Abby: ... I'm sorry. I don't know why...

Jet: (trying to spare Abby embarrassment) I probably grabbed it by accident. How's that for divine punishment?

Abby: Buddha's cruel.

Jet: Screw you. I hope you're reincarnated as a a lonely eunuch.

Abby: I hope you're reincarnated as my useless dick.

Jet: I'm a good person!

Abby: But karma's a bitch.

[renoj]

Rotary Phone

It's lonely, I miss her voice so sweet, It's raining, and I'm in the lobby, beat.

It's the nineties, I'm on a rotary phone, Just spinning away, through ascending dial tones.

No words in my mouth, my heart quit to fly south, Just my head in my arms,  with no keypad to count. When I was young, I loved merry-go-rounds, but carnivals only came once a summer.

Now that I'm older, I wish I could hold her, but the dial tone just beats on like a drummer.

So I'm swiping the spinner, and I know I'm a sinner, But God, could you please let me hear her?

The rotary goes round, the phone makes no sound, Until at last I hear something flicker.

"Hi, you reached Abby, I wish I could be here. But please leave some sweets in a beep."

Beep.

"Abby, I miss you. I wish I could kiss you. I wish we'd forgive one another. Once when we were alone, I picked up a rotary phone, pretended we were kids in the summer. The numbers were horses; my fingers jockey forces, They spun round and round, you made little horse sounds, It was the happiest I ever thought I could be..."

Her machine cuts me off. My tears make me cough, My voice disappears while I choke.

No words in my mouth, my heart quit to fly south, Just my head in my arms,  with no keypad to count.

It's the nineties, I'm on a rotary phone, Just spinning away, through ascending dial tones.

[renoj]

Loss

Tall building, long ceiling. My heart feels empty now.

Room's quiet,  I still won't buy it. Is this what love costs now?

How many times did I fucking tell you, not to text and drive.

Now I'm one year older, and no longer sober. but you're the one who died.

I wish I chose who had to live, because a mother needs her son. I wish you were alive to know it: you're the lucky one.

[renoj]

Coffee Date

Black coffee, hot body. Sipping softly.

This heat is unrelenting.

Sly smile, audiophile. Listen intently.

The sound is eardrum-bursting.

Sweet kiss, electric mist. Breathing heavy.

Your touch is so inviting.

Green eyes, heart-string ties. Grasp my soul.

Your love is so demanding.