Marie
Okay, could these two get any
sappier? I think not. Anyway, if you think that was sappy… prepare
yourself for the Queen of Sappiness… that would be me, by me. Yes, that’s right… I am the landlady of the
gutter, the Princess of Smut, and the Queen of sappiness… all sacrifices may be
left at the door. Fatted calves to the
right, goats to the left, and chocolate straight to ME!
For obvious reasons (or perhaps not so obvious reasons) I was not overjoyed at the prospect of picking Lisa up from work that Friday. Not that it was a bother in and of itself. But if you've ever had to spend an inordinate amount of time with someone as lovesick as she was, especially one lovesick over your crush… when you're concerned with bemoaning your own state of single-dom… it's no Sunday In the Park With George, I can tell you.
Lisa was the mental equivalent of a bowl of lukewarm, lime Jell-O by the time I picked her up from work at five. She was grinning like a blonde who'd just mastered the complicated factors of addition… which is scary since she's a brunette.
"Good evening, Lisa… earth to Lisa, this is Houston, come in, please…" I waved a hand in front of her eyes for a second.
"Huh… what?" she finally snapped out of her day-long, obviously Erik-induced stupor and realized she was in my car and going home.
"I asked you how work was, dear." I repeated my question yet again.
"Work… work… Oh yeah, work! Work went well." She nodded.
"Mm-hmm… something tells me that you couldn't tell me a single thing that happened in there today." I rolled my eyes, despite the fact that I was driving down Easton Road at my typical 45 mph. (Never mind that the speed limit is 25.)
"Sure I could!"
"Try."
"Um… I went to work… Erik dropped me off… um…"
After several more stalling "ums" from the enlightened one, we finally pulled into the parking lot and I was forced to all but unlock the door for her.
"Could I possibly get you to stop thinking about our masked friend and be competent?" I asked a little more sharply than I had intended. But, dammit, she was annoying the hell outta me!
"I could give it a go… why, am I annoying you?" she asked.
"In a word, yes… in two words, hell yes!" I laughed, leading her to the correct stairwell. (She almost went up to the landlord's apartment.)
"We live this way, remember… next to Erik's place?"
"Yeah… Erik's place. He's got a nice place, you know."
"No, I don't actually… but could we get you into our place first?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Try going through the door."
"That would be good."
"Yes, it would."
With that, she seemed to gather a few more of her scattered wits and flopped oh-so-gracefully onto the couch with a huge sigh.
"Seeing Erik tonight, I take it?"
"Hmmm?"
"You heard me… do you two have plans?"
"Uh-huh. Tonight I expose Erik to the wonderful and groovy world of Austin Powers."
"Yeah, baby." I said with far less enthusiasm than is usually required. "Just be sure to… behave." I added quickly to cover up my "sad and pathetic" slip.
"We will." Lisa smirked at me, not noticing my slip, thank the gods and pass the tax rebate.
She left soon after that
and I busied myself with preparing my own dinner, which was a very pathetic TV
dinner of semi-fried chicken and a lump of congealing white stuff that was
supposedly mashed potatoes. Oh
Marie… you really are sad and pathetic… and not the good kind either. It's Friday night, and where are you? Sitting at home in sweats watching Final
Jeopardy and eating something from a cardboard box. Do you have any idea what other girls your age are doing right
now? Okay, try not to think about that
part… they're going out to clubs and dancing and flirting… and you're busy
trying to figure out what famous American author started his book with a quote
from Jonah.
Herman Melville in Moby
Dick… geez, that’s sad.
I sighed… when I'd first thought of the idea to go and get Erik from 1881, I honestly didn't have any romantic thoughts involved. Okay, maybe a few… And I was genuinely glad for Lisa and him. So why was I so miserable, you ask?
Hey, misery is my life. I hadn't had a single boyfriend since the age of fourteen and in-between that horrible breakup and the present, not even one date of any kind. I didn't go to any of the dances at either my high school or college. I didn't even go to my prom. The one time I actually attended any function of that sort was at Project Graduation, where I was pretty much laughed off the dance floor when I had the audacity to ask some guy to dance with me.
So, you can see that I was fairly entitled to being that sad and pathetic.
Just as I was about to say "Fuck it all" and head for the tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream that was hiding in the back of the freezer, Lisa returned home. I immediately tried to look chipper and cheerful.
"Did he like it?"
"I believe his exact words were, 'My… that was vulgar.'" She did a fair imitation of our masked friend.
"But I bet he laughed at it anyway."
"Yup! Tomorrow I introduce him to Monty Python!"
"Lord save him."
"Aw, he'll like it. You did!"
"I also have a taste
for Mel Brooks and Men in Tights… not exactly up to Erik's Faustian
taste."
"Well, we'll be watching Twelfth Night too. You should come over, it'll be fun. We'll make massive amounts of popcorn with real butter." She flopped on the couch next to me.
"Nah… you two should be alone… I'd feel like a third wheel… and I think we're all too big for tricycles… and too weirded out by managé trois'." I tried to quip.
"I don't know, I'll have to ask Erik about that." She shrugged. "Besides, I feel like a heel leaving you here alone all night."
"It's seven thirty… that's not all night." I pointed out.
At that point she shrugged again and stood up to remove her flannel shirt due to the rather under-zealous air-conditioning. Her foot knocked over the rather aesthetically pleasing sculpture I'd made from my utensils and plastic tray. Luckily there was nothing wet or gross on them to stain the carpet.
"Marie..?"
"What?"
"What are you doing?"
"I'm watching… not this… I'm watching The Simpsons." I said, flipping the stations away from Wheel of Fortune.
"You're sitting… in your pajamas… making a sculpture out of your TV dinner… at seven-thirty on a Friday night. Go get dressed."
"What for?"
"Just go get dressed."
"But I want to see who shot Mr. Burns."
"Maggie, deal with it and get dressed." She all but hauled me off the couch and shoved me into my room.
"Hey! At least tell me what I'm getting dressed for!"
"The movies, moron… duh!"
"Oh god… what movie?"
"Your pick!"
"The new Star Trek movie? The one where Jean-Luc supposedly and finally gets a girl?" I exclaimed.
"Whatever floats your boat, babe. And Patrick Stewart definitely floats mine."
"Really? And here I've been floating my boat on water… yeesh…"
"Get dressed, smart-ass."
"Kay. Is Erik invited?"
"Nope."
"No? You're actually leaving the house and not going either to work or his place? This is a red-letter day… but which letter is it?" I quipped, relenting finally and putting on my black jeans (the really tight ones that I force myself to wear baggy t-shirts with for just that reason) and an aforementioned "really baggy" T-shirt of cobalt blue.
"I'm thinking Q… that's always been a favorite."
"Okay, I'm dressed… are you happy now?" I emerged, as Lisa likes to say.
"Um… gee, Marie… you smuggling something in that shirt? What is that, 3X? Even I don't wear shirts that big!"
"What? What's wrong with it?" I asked.
"The two of us could wear that shirt at the same time and still have room for both Erik and the Titanic."
"If you think I'm wearing a heavy artillery shirt with these jeans… youse outta yo mind." I did my best South Philly ghetto accent.
"I'm thinking the blue one that you wore for your last concert."
"The fuzzy one that all but screams 'Come and get it'? Um… no."
"Why not, it'll be fun. It'll turn the head of every guy we meet tonight."
"Yeah, cuz we meet so many…" I mumbled. (Me? Bitter? No!)
"I'm gonna smack you. It's gonna really be fun too. And I'll rather enjoy it."
"I hit back."
"C'mon, go change.”
“Oh for Heaven’s sake…” I acceded, heading back into my room to search for and subsequently don the afore-mentioned shirt of midnight blue velour.
“Much better. Can we go now?” Lisa applauded when I re-emerged.
"Kay."