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My First Date

Car alarms are fine and good, but the best thing that came from their advent is the button on the remote that allows you to make the car go “beep” so you can locate it in a labyrinthian parking lot.

Ashley lived in Santa Monica and her older brother had taught her how to transform giant Arrowhead water jugs into marijuana smoking machines. She had a strangely flat face and freckles without outlines, an exotic mixed-breed cat. She used to just lie on the floor in a puffy jacket and writhe along to the music which she claimed meant a lot to her. I asked her out primarily because I liked her last name a lot and at the time I was pretty convinced that my destiny was to marry a woman and take her last name, which was a combination of my distaste for my father, a semi-forced resentment of our name change at Ellis island, and a desire to appear to be a feminist in a man’s world.

Damn the patriarchy!. Why can’t a woman play King Creon in our high school’s production of Oedipus? Oh really? Well then I’m going to retaliate by dating women based on their last names. That will show you. That will show you all!

I don’t remember much of what we talked about, though I’m sure I agreed with a lot of what she said because she was intimidatingly pretty. Funny how quickly my legitimacy as a feminist went out the window. She wasn’t interested in that anyway. One thing I could tell we had in common was that we both really liked the fact that I had a car. We held hands but it felt forced, as our fingers never clasped in quite the right way. If you’re wondering which person’s thumb should go on the outside, you probably shouldn’t be holding hands in the first place.

After dinner, we walked back towards the car. She had invited me back to her place to smoke marijuana (which I had already stopped doing, but I liked being around it) and to listen to meaningful music and writhe. Her parents, mind you, didn’t seem to know that she lived with them. She had two locks on the inside of her door. One of them was a massive deadbolt, indicating that the “why is your door locked?” discussion had happened and that no one wanted it repeated. She told me about all the music we were going to listen to. She loved saying the words “Blue Oyster Cult.” She was a special girl.

But she did not smoke marijuana that night. Instead, we walked around the parking lot for 90 minutes trying to find my car. I pushed the button. I pushed the button again. I pushed the panic button. I had never felt a more appropriate time to push a panic button. Beautiful girl, Blue Oyster Cult, writhing. I never got to experience any of that.

Unfortunately, we were simply in the wrong parking lot. They all look alike. Eventually, I drove her home. She was very quiet. She did let me walk her to the doorway of her room, though. And as I turned back, I heard the thrust of the massive deadbolt. And with that flick of her fingers, my dreams of having the last name Hitchcock were gone forever.

The Mother

My ex-girlfriend’s mother used to tell her that I would cheat on her and her proof of this was that I often took my phone with me when I left the room. She was a very dissatisfied woman and she was so tightly wound that her elbows never left her sides. A meek and unhappy Tyrannosaurus Rex with sweaters that could not decide if they were crew or turtlenecks. Her body moved all in one piece, a skeletal figure with no joints and a penchant for passive aggressive antagonism.
One afternoon, she told me that she did not wish for me to date her daughter anymore because I did not want to send my children (which were not existent) to a conservative christian day camp. I always told my girlfriend that her mother would not be allowed around our children unless she was supervised. I felt her tense nature nauseatingly contagious and I have a dream of my children waving their arms freely while running through a grassy field rather than being chained to a stove and forced to eat beige food with perfect manners. My nightmares involved a family dinner:

Me: How was your day at school, child of future?
Child of Future: It was fun because I got to play with Sally and I think Sally is fun.
Wife: That’s great.
Her Mother: What do Sally’s parents do for a living? Is she Catholic?
Me: I’m glad you had a nice day at school, child of future.
Child of Future: Will you help me with my homework?
Wife: Sure, we will.
Her Mother: John 3:16

No, Child of Future, I could not subject you to this.

I don’t know where this woman is now, but I am confident she is currently shaking her head at something.

Facebook Posts I Admire

Here is what I saw today:

Me: in the bathroom the power of God hit me and I couldn’t stop praising him Man#Lord u so good to me and my son walk in *****: what are u doing Me: praising God *****: what for Me: for who he is….I’m not crazy just my faith is radical for Christ its violent and violent doesn’t refer to what u think it means it means extreme with that said I’m not a conditional praiser just a crazy faith believer God is so good to me and I can’t keep it to myself u so irresistible u that good heeeeeyyyyyyyy u would shout too if u step out of the natural realm and see what I see get ready for u blessing they’re hear praise him now in advance for u set up to get #blessed amen

David Silverman

One of my favorite moments from childhood is about a kid I knew named David Silverman. He lived down the street from me and was, I assume on both sides, a friend of convenience. There were not many kids where I grew up and David and I both liked basketball, so that was clearly enough.

His father looked exactly like Steven Keaton from Family Ties. He couldn’t see it but it was true. This was why I liked his father, who was a numismatist and also worked in some kind of office.

I did not see David for a few months and there was no explanation. One day, he reappeared and told me that everything had changed for him:

David was rubbing a shiny gold coin, presumably one of his father’s favorites while he told me that our friendship would be difficult moving forward. A few months back, he told me, he had been visited in his sleep by Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ asked him to follow him. He had accepted and now he was hesitant to spend time with non-believers. This curly-haired man named David Silverman with rhythm guitarist aspirations had been called forth by Jesus.

I only once saw David after this conversation. In that one interaction, he told me that things with Jesus were “going well.”

I hope that remains the case.

the littlest alligator

the littlest alligator

2.

Jared fumbled with the child lock on the Tylenol bottle. He tried to use every single one of his fingers before finally using his mouth, sending the cap to the ground. He made no effort to pick it up, but instead stared into his hand, trying to decide between one and two pills. He took two and left the bottle on the countertop.

In bed again.

1.

‘This music is unrecognizable,’ thought Jared, as he tried to find his place in the world. Hands on one’s own hips was such a different look than hands on someone else’s hips and it was the difference between night and day. The tiles were black and white as well, and his new shoes were still squeaking, but that was inaudible to anyone else. If anything, he wasn’t hearing the squeaking, but feeling the vibration. ‘I am being overly analytical,’ thought Jared, as he realized that he was thinking about his own thoughts in a room full of other people and their thoughts.

‘That woman has tremendous hair, if my calculations are correct,’ thought Jared.

2.

‘Ice melts and that’s why there is water in this glass,’ thought Jared. He was feeling slightly better and he got dressed for the day. ‘No need for new clothes this day,’ thought Jared.

A small bowl of fruit would help. His sunglasses felt very tight. Everything felt tight. ‘These strawberries look diseased,’ thought Jared, as he brushed them aside.

1.

Jared and the tremendous hair girl has been talking for a long time, but Jared had mostly been explaining his thoughts, ones that had nothing to do with the room or the people in it. She liked the thoughts, though they were of no value to her.

For a moment, she thought about this and considered that thoughts that are enjoyable are inherently valuable. And then she remembered that she did not know Jared and that he was incoherent.

“I can’t understand you,” she said.

‘I get that.’

“See these two? Take one of these,” she said as she held out her hand.

Jared took one and placed it in his pocket.

2.

He sat with his hands on his hips.

Jared reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic alligator. He did not know the origin.

He was helpless with just this one alligator. He knew this, but he did not know why. It was the second one that would be needed to help. His headache has disappeared.

the most mutual break-up

the most mutual break-up of all time

            Janie hated her Christmas gift, but Adam was really proud of it. He had made a collage out of all the hotel key cards they had ever used. He had been saving them since day one and now he had presented them to her in a picture frame. He thought it represented the past, but Janie saw it as a catalogue of locked, impersonal doors.

            Still, she smiled, as he made warm apple cider over the holidays and he wore a blue checkered apron with pride. Janie would grind her teeth at night and she never knew why, but now she knew why. There he was, smug, in his apron. He would cut little ribbons of lemon peel and put them over the rim of the mug like he was fancy.

            Janie wanted to build a car from scratch. She wanted to sail around the world like that girl who got lost, but she wouldn’t get lost. She wanted to dance on tables and write poetry. She wanted to try new and exciting grains that she had read about on food blogs.

            Adam loved Janie.

            Hotel key cards were fascinating things to Adam. Magnetic strips with a memory, but a memory that only lasts as long as the guest. The key cards were a part of the hotel room only as long as Adam and Janie were there. If he stuffed them in his pocket and assured the person at the front desk that he had left them on top of the mini-bar, they wouldn’t bother resetting the door until the next guests checked in. This meant a lot to Adam. He would smile gently as he took Janie’s hand in the rental car as they drove back to the airport. Inside his pocket, there was a little piece of plastic that still held the code to their room, to the weekend, to their secrets.

            The key card never went back and was never reset. It just held the memories. As long as Adam held the key card, he held the combination to the coded and locked moments. The way she always threw half of the pillows to the floor immediately. The way she carefully inspected all the provided toiletries, though she always brought her own. The way she never knew how to use the remote.

            Janie would watch Adam as he took in the simplest things and she thought him to be grasping for straws. Obsessive, so obsessive, the way he would comment on the curtains and their poor design. The way he slammed the door every time. Every time. They way he would always compare the mouthwash to that one eucalyptus mouthwash to that one from that one time in Phoenix.

            Janie looked at her Christmas gift. She kissed Adam, and then that night she had terrible nightmares. It was night and she was locked out in a hallway wearing Adam’s oversized white-button up. She had a handful of key cards, but none of them worked. She felt tremendous pressure to get into the room, but she didn’t know why. She heard footsteps. She tried more cards. The footsteps were getting closer. Janie screamed as she put the last key card into the door and it burst open. She could now feel the footsteps vibrating, travelling through the thick multi-colored carpet. She entered the room in darkness and slammed the door behind her. Catching her breath, she placed her back against the door and could feel the heat of something from the other side of the glazed wood. Slowly she turned and placed her eye to the peephole. It was Adam, but it didn’t look like him and it didn’t feel like him. She turned around to see that the hotel room had no windows. She was trapped.

            *********

            It was 9:47pm on New Year’s Eve. Janie had just gotten off the phone with Adam and she was collecting herself, trying to keep her eyes from looking puffy. Adam didn’t seem surprised when she told him, but he never seemed surprised about much. Her girlfriends were on their way over to pick her up and she didn’t want to bring down the energy of the night.

            Adam had agreed, she thought to herself. Adam had agreed that they needed some time apart. He said so, she thought. It was mutual.

            Adam took a long walk and thought about how he had known everything Janie had said to be true and that he had just been afraid to admit it. It felt so good to finally confront his own feelings honestly. He completely agreed with everything she had said. And they could still be friends, he thought, and he was glad that this was all so mutual.

            When Adam got home, he called some friends and asked them to pick him up on their way to a party in Brentwood. They were glad he was coming and glad he had come to his senses and was glad that everything ended so agreeably.

            Before they arrived, Adam went to his laptop and canceled some hotel reservations he had made as a surprise for Janie before he realized his true feelings. It was the place with the eucalyptus mouthwash in Phoenix, but it was for the best. He never really liked that mouthwash that much anyway.