“Just hurry the fuck up. I’ll be ready in 4 minutes.” demanded Katherine, my lanky, buxom-less, beloved, platonic roommate. Her eyes hadn’t wavered in my direction: they were only ever locked to the screen of her laptop fixed on her lap, not unusually.
“Okay. I’m gonna hop in the shower.” I responded. Katherine sounded a grunt in acknowledgment and admission. Even she knew her face would still be basking in the glow of the laptop after my shower.
The heirs to the Age of Aquarius are all tanning to the waning shine of the screen, ‘hello to you too‘. I thought as I let the gradually warming water run from the shower head. I played a game on my cellphone while waiting. I was catapulting disgruntled fowls into the homes of discolored swine, pooping piously.
Last night, my horoscope advised me to seek out someone helpful in keeping me focused. I have a natural knack in wandering from my day’s itinerary regardless of importance. I normally check the next day’s horoscope most nights because I don’t want to curse as bad as I do. Being unprepared for surprises while being poor only leads to this. Once, I cursed so profanely, it was like an exploded sewage line. I had lost my job despite having an excuse with a medical emergency. Admittedly, I could have made the effort to check in once, at the very least, during the 8 squandered hours I spent in the emergency room. I was loathe to believe having a torn scrotum was punishment enough. It looked like a tight vagina beneath my penis. My spewed curses circulated around the subject of the lost job and the gaining of a vagina. Now I check my horoscope the night before despite being called a poof. I already had a makeshift cunt. Katherine happened the role of my P.I.C. (partner in crime) today, of which I deemed affectionate because she was lucid for once.
During the second time Katherine drove us back to the printing place that day, I noticed a woman I wanted to meet. Katherine and I had to go back a second time because I had forgotten which folder I’d saved the resume into. Also, I’d forgotten the USB drive to print it from. The woman I wanted to meet wasn’t present the first time, fortunately, but had missed a joke I had cracked earlier. I debated cracking the same joke again, but I feared everyone else possibly catching onto my scheme. She had a poster of fractal art printed. I wanted to meet her anyway. I printed 3 copies of my resume which came to a total of twenty-three cents I almost didn’t have. I said quite audibly, ‘thank God for pennies,’ because it seemed like it could have been funny and winning at the time. I fled soon after. I thought, now she’ll never know that a complete stranger had fallen unconditionally in love with her and her eccentricities for 5 whole minutes today, and it didn’t cost nearly as much as my resumes had. This made me sad, but soon I remembered how I had to do important stuff instead.
“That’s what I said! Girls hate each other these days. It’s all war.” replied Katherine as she lit a cigarette, sending a text to her boyfriend, all while maneuvering her car through traffic. Katherine saw something another girl had posted on Facebook in which she regarded with as being, ‘stupid as shit!’
“The sisterhood is a sham,” I said blankly, pressing buttons in her car, “bro-mance is true though. Platonic friendships are totally possible. But, only until some bitch wiggles her way in. That’s the only way I’ve lost homies I didn’t want to ignore.”
“They always do. Fuckin’ always do. They’re so childish; it freaks me the fuck out. They come in as a girl first, but they always exit as a bitch. I can’t stand girls. Always scheming.” she agreed. Then she giggled at a text her boyfriend replied to her. Probably a happy face or how much he misses her or both, I thought enviously of them. Katherine had the mind of a man in the body of a Playboy Bunny; I enjoy bouncing ideas with her and being envied by other guys that happened to see us hanging out in public. When she’s lucid.
“I blame Civil Rights. Race-wise, equality, of course.” I said still diddling the buttons.
“But now that women are empowered, the end of days is nigh and shit. …Do any of these buttons do anything?”
“Oh, they’re broken …and that’s bullshit. Women should be empowered.”
“I’m not saying they should still have the lack of rights they did back in the good ol’ days,” I took a breath and thought about restating the set of words I had just uttered but changed my mind, “I’m saying that some of the more fem-friendly laws should be revised.”
“And so they can live in fear of men again?! What the fuck, Danny?!” Katherine shouted.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. There are so many effeminate dudes out there now, have you seen a movie recently? Seriously. I feel pretty emasculated on a daily basis …sometimes. Only sometimes. But I’m saying revised so that the men don’t have to live in fear of women… like we’re doing now.” I said with an unconvincingly subtle staccato.
We pulled up to the restaurant that I needed to hand my resume to. Katherine abruptly parked. It was almost like slamming a door. I trembled. The ergonomical strategist that is my mind jacked up the price of courage when I needed it, despite having realized my mind was what I needed my courage to defend against. It reminded me of my middle school gym coach who encouraged me to lose weight by referencing large animals when he called upon me. I’d have been okay with ridicule if I had a drink then. The courage of a lion came to me with only a single beer, even. This was because my indecencies would be forgiven and found funny instead. But I was dry right now. My indecencies became unforgivable. My opines became misanthropic, even when they were philanthropic. My sardonically toned insight was mistaken for pompousness, My ass will be handed to me again. But Katherine knew me well enough, I hoped not soon enough.
“BULLSHIT. You lean towards misogyny because of that ex-cunt of yours.” she said monotonously.
“She, uh…actually, stopped mattering a while back …actually. I just think neither gender should live in fear, but …bitches have more power.”
“We’ve earned it.”
“Sure …did. Yes. Sure did.”
“We aren’t abusing it like men have in the past. We’re surrounded by little bitches.” Katherine stated absolutely. Then she took a breath. “Fuck it. This is about how we need to get those managers into thinking you’re worth hiring. Danny, go hand in your fucking resume to the manager. Be persistent. Sound confident. You’re gonna need to try very hard, but I’m here. I got your back. You need to have the kind of confidence like you do when you pick up a chick at a bar.”
“Right.” I said after a moment. Was I to trick them into believing I had any worth, I wondered. I feel I’ve wondered this too many times.
I got out of the car and walked toward the entrance. I decidedly omitted the fact I had never successfully picked up a chick at a bar because I Katherine would have growled at me some more. I’d seen a thousand movies on the subject anyway, I thought, it didn’t seem difficult to be an ass with a hard-on. I turned back to look at Katherine as she encouragingly pointed at the entrance, like television mothers did to disobedient kids. Through the back window I saw her mouth the words, ‘be confident, you little bitch.‘ I took a breath and began walking. I thought briefly of the cunt-shaped hole I had in my ball sack, then decided Katherine had actually been an excellent choice for a P.I.C. I was the most uninspired person I knew, but I feared Katherine enough to effort otherwise. This kept me mentally acute in constantly revising my thoughts before expounding them through my teeth. As a matter of fact, I still don’t know which gender she was and/is liege to, though I had never really cared for the rights of either party.