[i]Getting out of bed around 11:10 a.m.
Instant Blueberry Oatmeal. Orange Juice.
All day shift at China Wok.
Two Hard-Boiled Eggs. Five Guys French Fries. Honey Green
Tea.
It’s fairly slow at work.
Last night Margot was insistent she show me her new haircut.
I declined and stayed in, with good reason. I don’t mind having a casual
interaction with her, as long as it’s casual. But the problem here, and which
time has shown countless times despite our separation, is that things between
her and I will never be casual. So here I am at work. She stops by to visit...
She walks in while I’m snapping the snow peas, making some
offhanded comment about my hair looking weird. She’s never really liked my
usual shaved side and back look. This time I kept small patches of sideburns
for kicks.
Me: “Becca cut it. My bosses think I’m Jewish so I’m going
to embrace the look.”
At first the conversation is casual (I had high hopes), but
quickly turns into an investigation on what Margot likes to call, “the sluts you’ve
slept with.” Her definition of the word “slut” is any female that isn’t her.
Negative energy. That’s all I feel. And no matter how hard I try to brush it
off with a carefree attitude, her bad attitude takes over.
Margot: “Why can’t you just tell me?”
Me: “Because...I don’t feel comfortable...at all. You don’t
make me feel comfortable to open up to you. You’re acting like a detective, not
an ex-girlfriend or friend.” (But I guess that’s exactly what ex-girlfriends
are supposed to act like.)
It’s completely immature this act she’s giving me. Why
can’t she just be casual with me? We have no obligations to each other. I
accept the fact that she’s seen other men and she should accept the same, that I've seen other women that is. But
Margot is not a reasonable person. She kind of storms off out of the restaurant
and texts me almost immediately, “I hate you. Fuck all the sluts you want to.
Have a good life.”
I think to myself, and say out loud, “Some things never
change.” I add, in my head, I don’t want any of this.
Coconut Water.
The day turns into night.
Off work and back home.
Vegetable Lo Mein. Hoegaarden.
Watching Shooter (2007).
Fixing up the PC-to-TV converter downstairs. Anthony and
Darren test it out.
Sweet Rolls with Nutella and Milk.
I research hostels in New York for when I visit Aysena next
week. I chat with her off and on every day. We both anticipate our meeting.
Sleep 4 a.m.
[i] Purple hair.
Image source unknown.
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