Along the Injured Coast

Blogger warns that today there’ll be a scheduled outage at 4 p.m. PST. Because I’m sitting in New Brunswick, New Jersey and seethe with resentment half the time, I read that notice as “scheduled outrage” and wondered who took breaks in between.

After I organized his kitchen Monday while he blathered on and on about how nice someone else was, Aaron explained last night why I was wrong to put dishes near the dishwasher. I explained to him that it wasn’t my kitchen, and I didn’t care where he put the dishes but if he put the spices at the other end of a kitchen he had no intention of cooking in anyway he was going to make Paulie’s life miserable. This did not stop him from criticizing me; neither did it stop me from wishing I could call on a vengeful goddess of the hearth for some balled lightning and a fireproof jai alai basket. I didn’t even tell him to fuck off.

Maybe I’m coming down with something.

Early yesterday, Siobhan expressed shock that I was going back last night.

Tata: By the way, I left a lot out of the blog story I might throw in if I have a “Listen, old man -” conversation with him.
Siobhan: Those are the exact words I used when I told my trainer Jerry what I would have said. My hypothetical declaration began, “Listen, old man,” and went on to describe that now was the time to start having some actual consideration for someone else, already.
Tata: He didn’t bother feeding his children. It’s too late for consideration. I should poison his Maalox.
Siobhan: Now we should speak in code, to avoid potential prosecution.
Tata: Isn’t it already too late for that, too?
Siobhan: Not for your co-defendants.
Tata: The monkey has been discovered.
Siobhan: What?
Tata: I glued a rubber monkey to John’s barcode gun and the monkey has been discovered.
Siobhan: So your code is to tell the truth?

In that case: WINK WINK nothing is happening here. WINK! Everyone’s FINE. Nobody’s being harmed in the ridiculous Hollywood production that is this move. WINK! I need eyedrops. I’m taking tonight off. Aaron expects his daughter to clean the apartment in an hour tomorrow, so he says. I told him in no uncertain terms that apartment would be spotless and in good condition when the keys were handed over because my name is on the lease. He tried telling me it’s not that important.

And then I said, “Listen, old man -“

I feel so MATURE.

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