I check the clock next to the bed: 12:40. I consider, reconsider, then answer the phone anyway.
“Hello?”
“You haffa come up here.”
“What?”
“Come up here. I need you to help me kick someone’s ass.”
Hmm. Marie just may be drunk. Slender and beautiful, in all the years I've known her, I don't think I've heard her like this more than a handful of times.
I sit up, switch ears. “What’s going on?”
“Todd, that –“ She goes on to describe her recent ex in glowering, apocalyptic terms. Words related to his physical shortcomings, his mental deficiencies, his fiscal future, and a particularly juicy bit of supposition regarding his lineage tumble out of her angrily.
I laugh softly. “Why do you even care? Seriously, he’s an idiot.”
“I – hic! – know!” she slurs. “And that’s why I’m gonna haffa kill this girl.”
“What girl?”
“His new girlfriend! The stupid bestid has a new girlfriend! It’s been two weeks and he brings her to my bar? My bar! My pool table!”
She pauses, takes a drink. In the background, a toilet flushes, a hot-air hand dryer comes on.
“I want you to get dressed and come down here,” she continues. “Bring a pillow case an’ some rope.”
“Aw, shoot, Marie. What for?”
“’Cuz I kicked in the bathroom door earlier, made her jump up on the toilet.” Marie laughs. “Oh, Pearl, you shoulda seen ‘er.”
“I’ll bet it was awesome,” I say.
“It was. Seriously, she thinks she can hide from me in a bathroom stall? I tol’ her I was gonna throw a pillow case over her head and beat her with a tube sock full of oranges, stuff her into the trunk of my car, and drag her out to the nature center.”
Marie takes another drink. “Oh, yeah,” she says, hiccupping softly, “I need you to bring a tube sock. And some oranges.”
“Absolutely,” I say. “Tube sock. Oranges. That’s a great idea. Who do we know with access to bail money?”
There is silence followed by a heavy sigh.
“I can’t do this, can I?”
I switch ears. “Probably not,” I yawn, “but we can talk about it some more, if you want.”
A small puff of air escapes her: Pffffft. “Nah. I’m better now. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Hey, Marie?”
“Hmm?”
“Call a cab, would ya?”
She laughs. “Good idea.”
“Hello?”
“You haffa come up here.”
“What?”
“Come up here. I need you to help me kick someone’s ass.”
Hmm. Marie just may be drunk. Slender and beautiful, in all the years I've known her, I don't think I've heard her like this more than a handful of times.
I sit up, switch ears. “What’s going on?”
“Todd, that –“ She goes on to describe her recent ex in glowering, apocalyptic terms. Words related to his physical shortcomings, his mental deficiencies, his fiscal future, and a particularly juicy bit of supposition regarding his lineage tumble out of her angrily.
I laugh softly. “Why do you even care? Seriously, he’s an idiot.”
“I – hic! – know!” she slurs. “And that’s why I’m gonna haffa kill this girl.”
“What girl?”
“His new girlfriend! The stupid bestid has a new girlfriend! It’s been two weeks and he brings her to my bar? My bar! My pool table!”
She pauses, takes a drink. In the background, a toilet flushes, a hot-air hand dryer comes on.
“I want you to get dressed and come down here,” she continues. “Bring a pillow case an’ some rope.”
“Aw, shoot, Marie. What for?”
“’Cuz I kicked in the bathroom door earlier, made her jump up on the toilet.” Marie laughs. “Oh, Pearl, you shoulda seen ‘er.”
“I’ll bet it was awesome,” I say.
“It was. Seriously, she thinks she can hide from me in a bathroom stall? I tol’ her I was gonna throw a pillow case over her head and beat her with a tube sock full of oranges, stuff her into the trunk of my car, and drag her out to the nature center.”
Marie takes another drink. “Oh, yeah,” she says, hiccupping softly, “I need you to bring a tube sock. And some oranges.”
“Absolutely,” I say. “Tube sock. Oranges. That’s a great idea. Who do we know with access to bail money?”
There is silence followed by a heavy sigh.
“I can’t do this, can I?”
I switch ears. “Probably not,” I yawn, “but we can talk about it some more, if you want.”
A small puff of air escapes her: Pffffft. “Nah. I’m better now. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Hey, Marie?”
“Hmm?”
“Call a cab, would ya?”
She laughs. “Good idea.”
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23 comments:
Pearl--With friends like that, who needs a writing muse?
Hilarious, as usual.
That is absurd! Where could you find that many oranges at that time of day?
Absurd, but funny!
Sioux, and the muses be everywhere!
Joeh, :-)
Should have been a tube sock with lemons. Then she could have claimed life gave her lemons so she was just making lemonade.
You, Pearl, are a very good friend! I don't answer the phone at that hour!
I think that Todd deserved his very own orange-filled tube sock, pillowcase, and tour of the nature center in the trunk, too :)
As plans transmitted from bars after midnight go, Marie's seems pretty well thought out. Delightful!
As good as the last time. My ribs hurt all over again. I love Marie.
*scribbles* Tube. Sock. Full. Of. Oranges. CHECK! Must remember that =)
Rollicking good tale, and I do hope Marie called the cab.
Hari OM
...so was that girl still standing on the 'pan' listening to her fate? Mission accomplished!! YAM xx
I think she's got a right to be pissed. It goes without saying that you respect each others place of intoxication. Geesh, what an animal.
Sorry, Pearlie, I'm on my sickbed today and don't have a good comment except this really made me smile, and that's a big plus for me today. If anyone else comes to draw blood from me, I'm going to be calling you to come kick some butt.
He should know better than to bring the girlfriend to his ex's bar. I guess he wanted to see what happened!
You are such a good friend . . . :-)
They say beating someone up using a bag of oranges and a telephone book doesn't leave bruising, but from past personal experiences I'd have to kindly disagree...
Ever practical, Pearl. Just who do we know that has bail money?
Taking her to the nature center was the most fascinating aspect of her plan.
Don't be forgetting the latex gloves, leaving fingerprints are a big no-no.
Hey, at least she called you BEFORE she committed said crime. I'd be crabby if she called from the jail cell.
Thank you for a good laugh this afternoon
You crack me up Pearl, so does Marie. Glad you answered the phone and she came to her senses.
I love how you tell a story.
xo jj
This is the perfect primer for talking down the crazy impulse. By the time she said "tube sock," I knew the gig was up;)
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