By Logan Newby
1
I’ve brought you here because of what you said yesterday while we were calibrating the textile machine. You said, “I haven’t felt a woman’s touch in months.” So, here we are.
Yes, the grocery store.
Here’s how it’s done: start with a simple, “How are you today?” Nothing fancy. Then, each time you pass them in a different aisle, start upping the ante. “You’re following me, aren’t you?” is an example. Throw in a little wink. Make sure you’ve always got a few items in your cart, otherwise it doesn’t look like you’re really shopping.
Here’s how you’ll know she’s interested: she’ll do this little smile while looking down and touching her hair. Or, she’ll keep eye contact, squinting, letting this shy grin stretch across her face. Either of those things is good. If she frowns, looks away, or starts turning in the opposite direction, that’s bad. Say, “Nice chatting with you,” and walk.
We’re gentlemen, and that means we don’t get pushy.
Another tip: Don’t overdo one grocery store, otherwise you’ll get a reputation. I’ve been asked not to return to the Costco on Fairview Lane, the IGA on Piedmont Drive, and I’m pretty sure I’m on thin ice with the Food Lion on State Street.
I didn’t say I was banned. I said I was asked not to return, and that’s only because customers complained to management and they got Loss Prevention involved.
But you’ve brought me to my next tip: Don’t rely too heavily on one venue. For example, the woman I’m working on now, I met at church. Churches are great. They’re number two, right behind grocery stores. Number three is the dog park, and number four is Little League baseball games.
You see that one over there? Not the young one, the one in the pink cardigan by the deli counter. Okay, first lesson: just observe me. Pay close attention to my posture and how I hold eye contact. Back in a few.
Okay, so, this is a good segue to my next lesson: Don’t let rejection get you down. That woman was nice, and, as I’m sure you observed, we had a good rapport going, but she’s already married. “Thirty-five years and still going strong,” she said. No big deal, there are eight billion people on the planet. And honestly? I admire that kind of loyalty. It’s tough to find loyalty like that nowadays.
Now I want you to try. I’ll pick one out. There. See that one in the blue tank top comparing avocados? You need an easy one for your first time. Remember what I told you, okay? You’ll do great. I’ll be watching, and I’ll have notes for you when you return.
No?
Fine, but you won’t get better without practice. And that truth isn’t exclusive to chatting up beauties.
While we’re here, I need some food for Benny. He doesn’t like that kibble stuff, so I spring for the Purina with the little salmons on the label. Benny’s worth $1.09 for a five-ounce can every day of the week. And any woman who doesn’t like cats is a non-starter for me. Benny and me, we’re a package deal.
Check it out, Campbell’s pre-made soups are buy one, get one. My next lesson: cook these in a pot on the stove instead of the microwave. It’ll taste home-made, like a woman made it for you. Stir in a few sprigs of rosemary while it’s cooking and it’ll even taste like she loves you.
Oh no.
That’s Tamara. The woman who just came out of aisle four, heading for the bread section. Don’t stare, don’t stare. We’ve got to go. No, not together, that’s too weird. Why would two grown men be grocery shopping together? Meet me at my Dodge in the parking lot. You go that way, I’ll go this way. Go.
I think she probably saw me. There will likely be a message on my machine from her when I get home. That was my ex-wife, and I’d prefer not to talk about her, so let’s just leave it at that, please. And yes, I’m still holding the shopping cart full of groceries because I panicked and ran out the door with it. No, I’m not going to steal this stuff. You’ve known me for—how long? Five years? Right, so you know I’m not that kind of person. I’ll just leave the cart somewhere near the entrance for an employee to find.
Ever had this brand of mac and cheese? I just kind of grabbed it from a display when I was rushing out. I know Velveeta isn’t real cheese, but it’s pretty good. And it was Justin’s favorite; the kid practically lived on this stuff. The smell of it boiling in a pot is kind of sentimental.
Hey, how about that three-day weekend starting tomorrow? Any time we don’t have to listen to Daryl screaming at the back of our heads about uncalibrated ink saturation levels is a good time in my book. What are you up to Friday?
That’s okay, I’ve got a date with the church woman anyway. But there’s a little league game Saturday at Auburn Park. Lots of beauties mingling about. Meet me there at 3?
See you then.
2
We agreed on 3 o’clock, yet when I look at my watch it says 3:14. Let me ask you this: If your shift started at 3 and you showed up at 3:14, what do you think Daryl would say? Probably nothing too pleasant. Oh, and look, now it’s 3:15.
I can also tell by your appearance that you did not read my email regarding appropriate fashion for men our age.
I’m not in a bad mood, I’m just a little annoyed. I’ll try not to let it ruin our time.
Okay, let’s get started. First thing we want to do is a walk-around. We need to survey the place, strategize, get a feel for what we’re dealing with, scope out the ladies. It’s hot out, so I hope you’re wearing antiperspirant. Can’t be approaching women with dark circles under your arms. If you aren’t, don’t worry, I keep a stick in the Dodge.
See that kid there? That’s Tommy Cundiff. He’s kind of a big-wig around the Little League circuits. One of the best pitchers in Choctaw County for his age. No, I don’t actively follow Little League baseball, but when you’re at games often enough, you start to pick up on these things.
The date went great, by the way. Feels weird to bring that up unprompted but it didn’t seem like you were going to ask. But yes, it went very well.
No, there was no message from Tamara when I got home the other night.
Good lord, would you look at that? At your five o’clock there is a stunning southern belle in a straw hat. Don’t turn too quickly. Subtly is your friend in this game. Country girls like that are not only incredibly sexy, but they’re the best cooks. You see how she doesn’t have many wrinkles, even at her age? That’s because she’s careful about the sun, hence the straw hat.
Here’s a challenge for you. Go talk to her. See if you can remain confident without becoming intimidated. If you feel yourself getting overwhelmed, just take a deep breath and remember this simple fact: she’s only human.
Looks like her friend is going to the concession stand, leaving her alone for a few minutes, so now’s your chance. I’ll be watching and taking notes. And don’t be offended if I move in after you strike out. Good luck!
New lesson: Don’t get too excited about a beautiful woman giving you her phone number. A lot of times, they’ll just give it out so you’ll leave them alone, and they have no intention of returning your calls. Don’t get discouraged. You’ll get the hang of it. And stop smiling so much. You think women want to date a G.D. clown? You think they want to hop in bed with some grinning lunatic?
Don’t worry about why I say “G.D.” instead of using the Lord’s name. I’m trying to clean up my language for the church woman.
Watch this: Tommy Cundiff is about to strike out Keagan Settles. The kid’s got a .600 batting average, but just you watch, Tommy’s fastball is going to whiz right over home plate.
Want to know who Tommy Cundiff would’ve never struck out? Justin. Justin would’ve hit it over his head every time. He was the best batter on his team at that age, and he could hustle on the outfield, too. Dads weren’t supposed to hover by the dugout, but the umps made an exception for me because it made him feel better, knowing I was right there before he went up to bat. I never missed a game, even when I got that last DUI and couldn’t drive for six months. Never, ever.
I need a cola. You want one? You sure? Well, do you mind getting one for me? I left my wallet in the Dodge, but I’ll pay you back. I’ll be over here by the port-o-johns, sending out eye contact primers. Don’t take forever.
A Dr. Pepper? Really? It’s nice to know how little you think of me.
Oh god. There she is again.
Yes, Tamara. Oh, and look, she’s with that guy. Ted or something. Have you ever in your life seen a more pathetic, effeminate human being than Ted? Her tastes have changed since we’ve separated, that’s for sure. Looks like he even dyes his hair. No man our age has hair that black unless they’re—what’s the proper way to say it these days? Ethnic? But Ted looks German or probably Polish. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if they were still together, but I guess I gave her too much credit.
Back to the Dodge.
Hey, you didn’t do so bad today. I might even say I’m proud. But I wouldn’t bother calling that number. I hate to break it to you, but it’s probably a fake.
Oh, right. The Dr. Pepper. Honestly, I don’t feel comfortable reimbursing you for something I didn’t ask for. I distinctly remember saying cola. Hey, don’t get upset. You know what? Fine, here’s your dollar. Worst dollar I’ve ever spent.
Well, it’s back to the grind again tomorrow. Lord knows I haven’t missed Daryl’s ugly mug. Guess I’ll see you around the proverbial water cooler.
3
Hey, it’s me. I know this is out of the blue, but we haven’t spoken in a while, so I thought I’d touch base.
Sorry I haven’t congratulated you on your transfer to the processing department. We sure do miss you in Assembly. I’m happy for you. It’s just a bummer we don’t get to hang out as much. Let’s get back to chatting up those beauties soon. What do you say? They just re-opened the ice-skating rink down there on Circuit Street, and I’ve seen plenty of ladies twirling around.
Of course I know it’s 2:15 in the morning. I guess I wasn’t aware that friendship started and stopped at specific times of day.
Honestly, I don’t even know why I called.
Earlier, I ordered Domino’s and the delivery kid looked just like Justin. Same sandy blond hair with the little goatee patch. Same skinny frame. I nearly freaked him out because I just stood in the doorway, mouth agape, staring at him for several seconds. Justin was twenty-eight when he passed, and this kid is probably ten years younger than that, but still, the resemblance was uncanny. He kept saying, “Sir? Your total is $22.79. Sir?” And I just stared at him. I mouthed the word “Justin,” but luckily, I didn’t speak it. Wouldn’t that have been embarrassing? I would’ve never been able to order Domino’s again.
Now I can’t sleep. What are you up to? Oh, right. You were sleeping. I guess I’ll let you get back to it.
Just don’t hang up, okay? You don’t have to say anything, and you can even put the phone down if you want, just don’t hang up. I’m going to lay down and try to sleep.
Are you still up? It’s 3:22 now, so probably not. Okay, talk to you later. Good night. Or morning, I should say.
Hey, it’s 4:05 and I know you’re still asleep, but in case you aren’t, do me a favor. Don’t mention any of this the next time we talk, okay? Thanks. Good night again. Whoops, morning.
4
Long time no see, stranger. It’s funny how you only call when you need something these days. Relax, I’m teasing. For someone who can’t stop grinning at every girl you meet, you don’t have much of a sense of humor.
When you first told me you were getting your condo painted, my immediate thought was: what kind of man hires a team of people to do something he could easily do himself? But hey, mi casa es su casa. Just toss your jacket on that folding chair over there.
I’ll show you where to put Bosco. I made him a little bed in the garage. I threw an old piece of rope in there for him to chew if he gets restless. Sorry about shoving him in there, but Benny’s used to being the only animal around, and you know how territorial cats are, even for a good dog like Bosco. Isn’t that right, buddy? You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Was the pet fee at Best Western too expensive for your daddy? That’s okay, your uncle’s got you covered.
Well, this is my apartment. It’s just a rental. When Tamara and I separated, I needed something in a short timeframe, and this was the first affordable place I could find. It’s also within walking distance of the factory, so that’s a plus.
C’mere, Benny! Say hello to our guest! It took forever for him to warm up to me, so don’t expect him to give you any affection yet. In fact, he’ll probably just stay under that entertainment center the whole time you’re here. Don’t want to say hello to our guest, Benny? Fine, have it your way.
I know you’re only staying overnight, but I do have a few house rules. Let’s cover those before you get settled in.
Here at the fridge, you’ll see the “food log,” which is exactly what it sounds like. This first column lists all the items in the fridge from coffee creamer all the way down to sliced turkey and everything in between. The next column lists their monetary value per serving. If you consume anything from the fridge, you’ll take the dry erase marker hanging on this string here and write how many servings you’ve consumed or intend to consume in this third column. The fourth column is where you’ll multiply columns two and three to calculate how much you’ll be reimbursing me before you leave. Before you ask, yes, I’ve added a storage fee into the cost per serving because, after all, it takes electricity to power the fridge, does it not? And who pays the electricity bill? Magic elves? I wish. Having said that, you’re welcome to anything in the fridge so long as you properly log it.
Coming over here to the thermostat, you’ll notice I’ve put two red dots above 68 and 71. This is the acceptable temperature range of my house. Want it hotter or colder than that? I’d be happy to bring out the space heater or box-fan from the closet.
Making our way to the men’s room, you’ll notice there is no toilet paper in the holder. That’s because the toilet paper is in this locked cabinet below the sink here, with the only key being in my possession. Should you have to empty your bowels, I’ll unlock the cabinet and provide you with an appropriate amount of toilet paper. You are not permitted to use half a roll on one bowel movement. If it’s that bad, maybe you should just hop in the shower. Also, because Benny’s litter box is located in here, I ask that you keep the door open at all times so he can access it.
The volume on the television is currently at 52. Care to guess where it was yesterday? 52. Where will it be tomorrow? That’s correct, 52. Want it louder or quieter? Feel free to bring in your own television, I’ve got plenty of outlets.
Other than that, I’m pretty easy-going and laid-back. Make yourself at home.
How you like it down there in Processing, by the way? You keeping Herman out of trouble? Your replacement is some pimple-faced dork whose name I haven’t bothered to learn, but I told him the first day, “You’ve got some pretty big shoes to fill.” I looked him right in the eye and said that, you ask Sam if I didn’t.
Well, it’s 10:30 so that means bedtime for me. No, don’t lay on that side of the sectional. Benny has his own little indention the exact shape of his body and I don’t want you messing it up.
Go ahead and toss those Domino’s boxes on the floor so you can settle into this side over here. I’ve been eating a lot of Domino’s lately, and my waistline is answering for it, but you know what? When you have a rock-solid personality, you can get away with a few extra pounds. Also, at our age, women don’t expect a six pack.
I guess the kid who looks like Justin quit or got fired because he hasn’t been around. Even with as much as I’ve been ordering, he’s never the one to deliver.
Need another blanket? You sure? All right.
I know you go into work an hour earlier than I do these days, being in Processing and all, so if I don’t see you in the morning, it’s been nice having you over. Let’s do it again sometime. Maybe the next time you get your condo painted or bug bombed or something.
Okay, good night.
5
Just so you know, I almost hung up when your voicemail kicked in. Then I thought: No, I’ve got something to say.
Did I do something wrong? You haven’t returned any of my texts in the past few weeks. I know you’ve been dating that straw-hat woman from the little league game, whose name escapes me—Melanie or something? —which puts our sessions of chatting up beauties on hold, but still, you could at least send a text occasionally. Was I right about her? Is she a good cook? I told you so.
I’m not doing too bad for myself these days, you know.
I began taking taekwondo lessons. I’m only a yellow belt, but I already feel my strength and flexibility increasing. The instructor is a woman in her late-forties who used to compete at the Olympic level, and I don’t think it’s wishful thinking to say there’s an unspoken attraction between the two of us, especially after I nailed my Chon-Ji the other day. My only obstacle is the boundary between instructor-student which may prevent her from acting on her feelings.
You know what? I’m going for it anyway. After Thursday’s lesson, assuming I pass my green belt exam, I’m going to walk up to her—
Sorry for the separate message, but your machine hung up on me. I’m proceeding under the assumption that you knew to listen to the first message first, despite this one being the most recent and therefore listed above the previous voicemails.
Anyway, I ran into Tamara at the bowling alley a few nights ago. I was drinking at the bar, chatting up a few beauties as I am wont to do, when I saw her in my peripheral. I tried to make a break for it, but we locked eyes and she approached. She insisted on catching me up with the details of her life since we split, as if that were necessary. I guess we’re supposedly on friendly terms. She’s been going to grief counseling, she told me, dotting the corner of her eyes with a tissue, and asked if I’d been going. The funeral director recommended someone to us, but I assume he’s in cahoots with the counselor and gets a kickback from recommendations. So, no, to answer her and possibly your question, I have not been going to grief counseling.
Anyway, get this: Ted is in a Christian motorcycle gang called “Bikers for Christ.” Have you ever heard something so ridiculous? Ted and his gang ride around town, cluttering up traffic, and raising money for kids in the hospital. A worthy cause, I guess, but what do motorcycles have to do with any of that?
I was right, by the way. He’s Polish. He even had the nerve to smile and wave at me from the shoe counter while Tamara and I were talking, the bastard.
When it was my turn to fill her in on my life, well, let’s just say I didn’t have anything impressive to trot out. What was I supposed to say? That I got passed over for a supervisor spot at the factory? That I’ve got fifteen extra pounds of Domino’s slathered to my gut, giving my body an effeminate pear shape? That I wake up screaming every few nights, sending Benny running into the living room and knocking over the lamp? My most impressive accomplishment at the moment is simply not being Ted, so I just told her I’d been well and left it at that.
Want to know what she said? Nothing. She just smiled and held my hand in hers while patting it with her other hand, giving me this look like—
Sorry, last message. You should really contact AT&T about increasing your voicemail limit. As a friendly reminder, this message is intended to be listened to last of the three. If you are hearing this without having listened to the first two, go back now.
What was I saying? Can’t remember.
Do you even care about any of this? You know what—don’t bother calling back.
Goodbye forever, I guess.
6
Sorry to surprise you outside of Processing like this, but I figured—you’re on lunch, I’m on lunch, our buildings are right next to each other, what the hell?
Listen, I need your help.
You’ve already heard? Christ.
All right, well, sounds like you’ve heard a version of the story, but l let me tell you what really happened. First, let me preface: I was operating under self-defense. Well, self-defense of a variety.
Before I begin, are you as hungry as I am? It’s lunch after all. What? What the hell does “I don’t really eat lunch” mean? Get real.
See that Arby’s right there next to the Minute Mart? Let’s head over.
What in god’s name is that? A salad? Who comes to Arby’s and orders anything besides the beef ‘n cheddar? Suit yourself.
Care to switch seats? Sun is right in my eyes. I appreciate that.
Well, shoot, now it’s in your eyes. Let’s just move to that table over there. Not the one covered in salt, genius, the one next to it.
This straw has a slit in it. Be right back.
All right, here goes.
It was this past Thursday or Friday. The day of the week is hardly relevant. Actually, it was Wednesday because I’d been on inspection duty that morning in Assembly. I bet you don’t miss it. Anyway, I was with Sandra, the taekwondo lady I was telling you about. Going great, by the way. Well, was. Anyway, we’re at The Mediterranean—I’d ordered the medium-rare New York strip and she the crab-stuffed salmon. No occasion—just decided we’d earned it. Great meal, until I look a couple booths down. Guess who was celebrating their one-month wedding anniversary, exchanging cards, clinking champagne glasses, doe-eyed staring at one another?
I pretend not to notice. Just start shoving cuts of New York strip in my mouth, ready to get the hell out of there. Point is—I’m not looking for trouble.
First, he just waves. I try not to see it, but that big, Polish hand is like a meat cleaver. And he’s just waving it around and around—no finesse—until I acknowledge it. I don’t look, mind you, just kind of raise my glass.
Sandra senses something’s off and she gives me this tilted-head look, and I’m all, It’s fine, babe. She calls me “babe” too, by the way.
I’m thinking: that’s that. Shovel this steak down, grab a to-go box for Sandra’s salmon, throw down a couple twenties, get the hell out of there, right?
Before I can even get the waitress’ attention, there they are, standing hand-in-hand next to our booth, smiling down at the two of us. I can tell by the looks on their faces that I’m expected to appear overjoyed to see them.
Sure, you can have a curly fry. Regretting that salad about now, aren’t you? Oh, hey, no, don’t dip curly fries in catsup. Dip them in horsey sauce. The flavors mingle. Okay, that’s way too much horsey. Just a dab, cowboy. There you go.
Anyway, the Polish bastard wants to shake my hand. He’s wearing some golden ring with a big ugly cross on it. Knuckles so hairy it looks like he’s offering me a tarantula. And I’m just staring at it as it hangs there.
Be honest: was I wrong to slap it out of my face? Would you have done any different?
Here’s Ted’s problem: he thinks because he drives a motorcycle, is the general manager of some distillery in the business district, is sleeping with my wife, he can just assert himself into my personal space. And I’m rude? I’m confrontational? I’m irrational?
You see what I’m saying?
All I did was get his hand out of my face, and he starts popping off at the mouth. Says some very un-neighborly things to me. In front of Sandra, no less. Poking me in the chest for emphasis—I can show you the bruise. Honestly, I reacted appropriately.
What? Yeah, we’d ordered some wine. Is there anything else to drink with steak? Not a factor. You know me. I can handle it.
But I think I might be in legal trouble. Ted ended up needing stitches to his lower lip, as well as some dental work. Says I’m footing the bill or he’s calling his lawyer. I know he’s got one, too, the slick piece of trash.
You know what really hurt? Tamara had the audacity to call that night, saying I needed to make things right with Ted. Our son is dead, Tamara. What the hell would be the point?
But I could really use your help. Think you could swing by after work, help me figure this one out? I know you’re not a legal guy; neither am I, but I figured maybe if we put our heads together…
Really?
Thank you. Thank you.
Wait. Are you bagging up the rest of your salad to take with you? Can you seriously not finish a salad? Well, just be sure to put your name on it. Gary’s notorious for raiding the breakroom fridge. Don’t think just because you’re over in Processing you’re safe from Gary Sterling, Food Burglar.
See you back at the house.
Hey, it’s me. It’s a little after 7, and I’m just wondering if you’re still planning on swinging by to help me brainstorm this Ted thing.
Give me a callback. Or, just come on over. Either way is fine.
Well, it’s 10:30 and you’re not here, so I know what that means. Thanks a lot. See you around.
7
From: MrIceMan6969@gmail.com
Subject: <NO SUBJECT>
hey its your old friend from assembly & i understand your not answering my calls & thats ok & I hope this is still your email address
tamara & ted dropped the charges under the condition that i start attending grief counseling which i refused as well as refused to pay for his dental work. sometime u have to stand your ground
remember when we were out there chatting the ladies. do u think they would have gotten with guys who cant stand there ground. i dont. & the fact that both u & me had ladies to call our own is both a testament and endorsement to the standing of ones ground
i say had because sandra did in fact dump me after the fight. i hope you & straw hat lady are doing well
i wish u would of came over that night & helped me figure this one out but that is ok u have your own life
but if u would like to make it up to me i am currently located at choctaw county detention center & i believe i overheard someone elude to my bail being to the tune of five hundred which is honestly not that bad for someone making that processing money
alternatively if u could stop by my place semi regularly for the next several weeks & make sure benny has food & water & fresh litter & maybe spend a few minutes shining the laser pointer on the carpet for him then he & i would really appreciate that. spare key is under the welcome mat
i am borrowing this phone from a fellow inmate who was somehow able to avoid having it confiscated so im really hoping this email doesnt arrive in your spam folder as it is likely coming from an address it does not recognize
& unfortunately there is no way for me to signal u to check your spam folder because if u were to read such a thing in this email then you have already opened said email & the point is moot
or if there was a way to signal u to check your voicemail that would be better
hope to see u
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-=XxX//MrIceMan\\XxX=-
8
Holy shit, it’s you. Oh, wow, and there’s Melanie. Hi, Melanie.
Did you guys recognize me, or do you normally pick up hitchhikers? If it’s the former, I really appreciate it. If it’s the latter, let me remind you what a dangerous habit that is and thank you nonetheless.
Do you mind if I move Bosco’s toys over, so I can climb in the back? Lots of dog hair back here. I’m not judging, by the way. Every piece of clothing I own is a cat hair magnet, so I get it.
Where are you guys headed? Maybe you’ll consider dropping me off at South Central? Or just anywhere near there is fine. There’s a grief meeting I’m headed to. Bastards finally strong-armed me into it. It’s my first one, and I’m not sure I’ll do much talking. I’m just going to listen. Tamara is going to be there, but she’s assured me it won’t be awkward. We’ll see about that.
I’m trying to keep an open mind about it. What else is there to do? Judge said I had to go. I served the jail time, but apparently that wasn’t good enough. America is going to hell.
No rush, by the way. It doesn’t start until 7 pm but I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to get there so I set out early.
DUI. I’d rather not talk about it. Tamara offered me a ride, but I just couldn’t.
Melanie, did this old rascal ever tell you that I’m the reason you two are together? That’s right, two years ago when you met at that Little League game, it was me who sent him over. I said, “There’s your future wife, right there.” Ask him if I didn’t.
Pal, you’re going to want to make sure to use those turn signals. I’m not saying you’re a bad driver, but there are a lot of bad drivers out there, so be careful. Well, now you’re signaling too early, which is equally dangerous.
But like I was saying, I’m happy for you guys. You really do make one hell of a couple. Which makes me one hell of a match-maker.
Pardon me, but I can’t help but notice you’ve let your gas gauge fall below a quarter tank. What is this—a Plymouth? Looks new, too. Be a shame to see that catalytic converter shit out on you. Don’t let me tell you what to do, but there’s a gas station at the next intersection.
Now would be a good time to use that turn signal. There you go. Easy on the brakes; those pads won’t last forever.
I’m just going to stretch my legs for a moment. Now that I think about it, I could use a cola. Want to step inside with me?
Let’s see. Can’t really drink a Pepsi without something salty like mixed nuts or beef jerky to go along with it, wouldn’t you agree? Maybe trail mix, because it’s salty and sweet. Jesus, don’t grab the bottled. You’ve got to go fountain, my friend. You want that syrup flowing into the carbonated water in real time. Don’t tell me you can’t taste the difference. Tell you what, you get the bottle, I’ll get the fountain, and we’ll do a little comparison. We’ll even get Melanie’s opinion.
Christ, could the lighting be any more unflattering in here? Look at my face in this little sunglasses rack mirror and tell me I’m not actually this pale.
Oh god.
There’s Sandra. Yes, the taekwondo lady. Shush, don’t draw attention. We need to go. Damn, she saw me.
Okay, I’ve to say hello now. No, just stay here. Remember the old times of going up to beauties at the grocery store? Remember how you’d stare at me the whole time, killing the vibe? I need you to do the opposite of that.
Be right back.
Well, that went surprisingly well. Apparently, she’s just doing a little cashier work on the side because taekwondo is slow. Winter months are the slowest, she says, so every year she has to get a side gig. No big deal.
She looks good, right? Very in shape, right? It’s the taekwondo.
I think she’s had time to cool down about the incident because there was talk about maybe getting a drink sometime and catching up. That’s a good sign, right?
Anyway, not to rush, but I really need to get to that grief meeting, and I’m sure you and Melanie need to get to—where did you say? Right, Kohl’s.
9
Come in, you two. Thanks so much for coming over. Melanie, did you have to force him to come? I bet you did, didn’t you? I’m kidding. Welcome.
Just toss your coats over on that armchair. Sandra is in the kitchen. What you’re smelling are her mozzarella stuffed meatballs, which should be almost done. Neither of you are vegan, are you? Didn’t think so. I pick my friends better than that.
Sandra! They’re here! Come say hello!
What say we let the ladies get to know each other? Come with me, I want to show you something.
Notice anything different? That’s right, no food log. I’m sure you’ve also noticed the lack of Dominos boxes in the living room. And if-slash-when you have to visit the bathroom, you’ll find a fresh roll of double-ply dangling from the roller, right where it should be.
That’s because I am doing much better.
I’ll level with you. When Sandra and I talked about getting back together, one of her conditions was that I start seeing someone, and by “someone” she meant a shrink. I told her about the grief counseling, but she insisted I see a pro. She was a real sweetheart about it. She even made the first appointment.
Also, the grief counselor can’t give out these little guys. Relax, they’re just 10 mg Depakote. They mellow me out, even if they do give me the runs.
You’re the only person I’ve told about this. I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell anyone, especially the truck drivers, because then word would trickle through Assembly. You know how Terry and Sam are, right? Gossip hounds. I had to literally beg Daryl for my job back, and he’s put me on a probationary period, otherwise I’d go over there to Line B, unplug the emergency stop button, and slam their faces into the welding machine.
That’s a bit extreme, sorry. Dr. Hendricks lets me say stuff like that to blow off steam, but I need to remember to keep it in her office. I’ve got a transfer put in for the processing department, so maybe we’ll be work-mates again? Hope so.
Oh, hey, asshole, why wasn’t I offered the role of best man in your and Melanie’s wedding? You two wouldn’t be together if I hadn’t dragged you to that little league game way back when, never mind the fact that I taught you how to talk to her in the first place.
I like Kenneth, don’t get me wrong. I’m just not convinced the responsibilities of a factory union steward will translate to the responsibilities of a best man. Not to question your judgment, mind you.
But it would mean a lot to me to be in the wedding. I’d be happy with being an usher or even the guy at the door who hands out programs. Anything, really.
Speaking of which, Tamara and Ted just celebrated their one-year. Sandra and I were at The Bistro when we saw them, handing little wrapped boxes to each other. They didn’t notice me, which is fine; I see Tamara every week at Grief anyway. She has her thing and I have mine, and that’s okay. I’m good with that. Also, I didn’t even know she was going to be there this time. I’m done with that nonsense.
I’ve done some truly terrible things to Ted, and justified or not, I was probably being too hard on the man. He’s clearly making Tamara happy, which is something I was unable to do after Justin passed, so hey, as far as I’m concerned, he’s all right in my book.
It’s odd, but that felt good to say.
Hey, I bet the ladies miss us. What say we get back in there? Meatballs should be almost done. Smell good, don’t they? The sauce is half from the can, half home-made.
10
Hey. Yeah, yeah, I know it’s the middle of the night. I also own a watch, smartass. I’m sorry I woke you up. Tell Melanie I’m sorry if I woke her too.
I just wanted to say thanks. You’re the only one who’s put up with me while I was dealing with all these life changes, as Dr. Hendricks puts it. You’ve never told me to get lost or made fun of me behind my back at work–I hope? You’re one of the good ones. I may have not made it without you. I’m not trying to be morbid.
Sandra had to go to Vermont for some taekwondo thing and she won’t be back until Friday. This is the first night I’ve spent alone in six weeks, since we’ve gotten back together, so it’s just me and Fat Benny here. The bed sure feels empty.
Can I ask you one last favor for old time’s sake? Just stay on the line while I try to sleep? You know the drill. You can even set the phone down. And if you and Melanie begin to, you know, well, feel free to hang up.
Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it. You’re a good one, you know that? The world needs more people like you and fewer like me. And the people like me are lucky to have the people like you looking after us, keeping us on rails, even though we might be a burden.
Goodnight, friend.
Logan Newby lives in Princeton, KY, and his work has appeared in LitMag and other publications.
High Horse 
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