sketch (other side of the looking-glass edition)
Shannon had tuned out her friends' chatter. Ashley was telling the same story about having to count down her till four times for the fourth time today. Easy come, easy go, she thought, trying to ignore James' voice message repeating in her mind. She sipped her Bacardi cola swiftly through the straw.
"Look, um I found someone else and this isn't working out between us and you're two thousand miles away. I mean, um, you know I don't think either of us is that faithful anyway so why don't we just call it quits. Don't, you know, bother returning this message."
It was true, neither of them was really the monogamous sort, and anyway the relationship had been pretty open for a while now. Strange, he would put it that way, faithful. She would not cry, not in a bar, not in front of all these people, she would not. A distraction. She forced a smile and tried to pay attention to Ashley's story, which by this telling involved the branch manager, the regional director harassing her over the phone, and a heroic ending that somehow involved a customer's dog. Amy couldn't stop laughing about the dog, a Boston Terrier.
The three picked up on the looks of some guys across the horseshoe bar, apparently joking among themselves but obviously checking them out, no doubt looking to buy them drinks, the old routine. She recognized Phil, hotshot sales manager at the Caddy dealership, a drunk but a good lay she'd heard. What really hurt wasn't the breakup, no, it was James thinking he had the upper hand. Him thinking he had a clue; but he would drop everything including whatever floozy he'd bedded down with in three seconds if she bothered to fly out to D.C. It was degrading, and Shannon felt nauseous for a second.
Then there was Phil, everready, unmarriable, but she was dressed up to pick someone up and they were already aquainted. Why not, it would be an easy catch, and the impact would drown out all the goddamn feelings for a while. When his friends left him alone she circled in, like a shark.
"Look, um I found someone else and this isn't working out between us and you're two thousand miles away. I mean, um, you know I don't think either of us is that faithful anyway so why don't we just call it quits. Don't, you know, bother returning this message."
It was true, neither of them was really the monogamous sort, and anyway the relationship had been pretty open for a while now. Strange, he would put it that way, faithful. She would not cry, not in a bar, not in front of all these people, she would not. A distraction. She forced a smile and tried to pay attention to Ashley's story, which by this telling involved the branch manager, the regional director harassing her over the phone, and a heroic ending that somehow involved a customer's dog. Amy couldn't stop laughing about the dog, a Boston Terrier.
The three picked up on the looks of some guys across the horseshoe bar, apparently joking among themselves but obviously checking them out, no doubt looking to buy them drinks, the old routine. She recognized Phil, hotshot sales manager at the Caddy dealership, a drunk but a good lay she'd heard. What really hurt wasn't the breakup, no, it was James thinking he had the upper hand. Him thinking he had a clue; but he would drop everything including whatever floozy he'd bedded down with in three seconds if she bothered to fly out to D.C. It was degrading, and Shannon felt nauseous for a second.
Then there was Phil, everready, unmarriable, but she was dressed up to pick someone up and they were already aquainted. Why not, it would be an easy catch, and the impact would drown out all the goddamn feelings for a while. When his friends left him alone she circled in, like a shark.
[15:13 post: Thoth]
1 Comments:
I wanted to put here a gentle reminder that readers ought to be aware of our disclaimer.
I myself am not entirely comfortable with the way thoth navigates the world, but it isn't my place to prevent him from being himself, whoever that might turn out to be; actions, after all, speak louder than words. This counterpart story makes me slightly more comfortable in my understanding that he is not, at least not intentionally, sexist. Your judgments on the matter are welcomed. Myself, I think perhaps he's kind of bitter more than congenitally mysogynist.
Post a Comment
<< Home