by Scott Rice
She said, “Be reasonable.”
I said, “Fuck you.”
She trotted off to the living room to watch the latest man-made disaster unfold on CNN.
I stayed in bed wondering if this latest nuclear meltdown counted as a man-made disaster since it was actually caused by the tsunami that resulted from the humongous earthquake. You can’t blame that whole mess on human miscalculation.
I heard her patter back down the hallway. She stood in the doorway and said, “You are the most selfish guy I’ve ever met.”
She waited for a reply. I knew better than to say what I was thinking. She stormed away to continue watching the news.
I stared at the textured ceiling. What the fuck is wrong with being selfish? We can talk about the needs of the many verses the needs of the one all day long but in the end if there’s only one potato left that’s not radioactive, I’m eating it. Does that make me an animal? Is it my fault if I use the wrong fucking moisturizer on the wrong fucking body part?
She returned. I noticed a dark speck in the ceiling. She said, “My life is defined by all the shit you won’t do because you’re a coward or because you’re too fucking lazy.”
I couldn’t argue this point. I wondered what they used to make the ceiling textured. Maybe a joint knife?
She took off her sweats and T-shirt and put on her running shorts and sports bra. She looks good naked. As she tied her Asics she said, “A relationship is a series of compromises for fuck’s sake. Why don’t you understand that?”
I do understand that. And I make compromises. I just don’t make the ones she wants.
She left to go for a run. I lounged in bed a while longer.
The television was still on when I got up. Anderson Cooper was talking about two Japanese dudes who walked through a puddle of radioactive water. That can’t be good.
Anderson Cooper is a good looking man. I’d give my left nut to look like that guy. And to think he doesn’t even like pussy.
Cooper started talking about radioactive water pouring into the ocean. I’m not sure where radioactivity goes after it spills into the ocean, I thought it just stays there. I know it’s tough to get rid of. It’s all Einstein’s fault, or maybe it goes back further.
I was napping when she returned from her run. She was sweaty. Her face was full of color. She smelled good. She said, “Are you going to sleep all day?”
I said, “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to waste my whole day off, sitting here watching the news.”
I’d have been quite happy to sit on the couch all day with the news on, or off. But that wasn’t in the cards. And she says I don’t fucking compromise. Why isn’t she reasonable?
I was dressed and ready to go by the time she finished showering.
She said, “Did you brush your teeth?”