Salutations, all.
Where were we? Ah yes. Courtesy of Violet’s Evil Scheme, Chris bumped into his ex-girlfriend. Courtesy of Justina’s lavender nightie, they instantly started knocking boots. Then Angel and Scott realized that their significant others had slept together and almost had A Moment. Today: Chris talks to people on the phone.
Chapter 54: Again
Chris stared at the phone in his hand. Should he call? Shouldn’t he call? What would she say? What would he say? e looked down at the He looked down at the slip of paper and dialed the numbers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Foss.”
“Chris?”
“In the flesh … err … on the phone.”
“Dipwad.”
“Lovely.”
“I am.”
“I know.” [oh, the wittiness of this repartee]
“Benoit, we’ve been having the same conversation since we met.”
“Minus 10 years.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“I know. It’s kind of weird.”
“I missed your voice.”
“I did too. What happened to us?”
“Just drifted apart … one of those things. We were kids.”
“We had dreams.”
“We had different dreams.”
“Yeah we did. Looks like they’re overlapping a little now.” Chris laughed.
“I guess so. Some cosmic forces want us together.” [if by cosmic forces you mean an irrationally vindictive psycho with three names, then yes, you are correct]
“Maybe. Look, Foss. Did you tell your boyfriend about us?”
“Yeah. Didn’t take it so well. Did you tell your woman?”
“No. It’s gonna be rough.”
“I ended up dating a wrestler, you know. I guess you got me hooked.” [how? It’s not like he was a wrestler when they were in college]
“I guess so. It must be the muscles.”
“They help.”
“So, who was it?”
“Scott Steiner.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“Holy crap.”
“What?”
“Dude is best friends with my ex.” [oh, so she’s your ex now? Does this mean that you won’t agonize over how you cheated on her? I’m guessing not.]
“Woah. Small freaking world. I guess she must know then.”
Chris was struck silent.
“Christopher?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Hey, Foss, why don’t we meet up later or something? Tomorrow night?”
“Ok. You gonna be all right?”
“Sure. I’ll see you soon.”
Chris hung up the phone. His head swam in circles. What was he going to do? How had his life turned upside down so quickly? Did Angel really know? Only one way to find out. He dialed her number.
“Hello?”
“Angel?”
“Chris.”
“How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Oh, you know, hanging in there.”
“Tell me it’s not true, Chris.”
“I can’t.”
“Ok.” Her voice was oddly calm.
“Angel …”
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear any of it. I don’t want to hear a single word of explanation. Not one lurid detail about you and her and what you did. Just leave me alone, Chris. I honestly mean it.”
“Angel …”
“Weren’t you listening to me?” she was shouting now. “I don’t want to talk to you. You’re just like all the rest of them. So go and be with your college sweetheart … go screw each others’ brains out. But don’t you ever, ever speak another word to me.”
With that, she slammed the phone down. Chris threw down the receiver and gritted his teeth.
“Angel … I’m so sorry.” He turned out the lights, sat in the dark, and stared at the ceiling. [how can he sit down and stare at the ceiling? Won’t that hurt his neck? Well, at least he’s not crying. Which is odd, because I think that this is an appropriate crying situation.]
NOTES:
1) Yes, this chapter was pretty much just people talking on the phone. Hey, at least that means no extended descriptions of the night air or, like, Angel’s internal anguish.
OK, folks. So here’s the deal: I took a lengthy break from this in 1996. In that year, I actually developed a social life, which included getting a real boyfriend. So there was actually a three-year gap between this chapter and the next one that I wrote. Yes, I was 19 when I wrote most of the rest of this. And, in the interest of full disclosure, I kept it up throughout college. Yes, some of you knew me personally when I was writing this.
So you might be saying to yourself: “You were a semi-adult when you wrote this? AND an English major? AND the editor of your college literary magazine? Why then surely what follows must be well-written, incisive prose.”
Uhm, no. No it’s not. It’s still crap. You see, even though I was older and “wiser,” I wrote this in pencil in marble notebooks and had no intention of ever showing anybody. This means I never edited it, planned ahead, or worried about the quality of the writing. It might not be as gut-wrenchingly horrific as some of the oldest stuff, but it’s still … unabashedly bad. And I’m going to keep on posting it. Yes, eventually, I will get to the point where I’m fresh out of the old stuff. But never fear; that’ll be quite a while from now. And I’ve got a plan for a fun way to continue past then.
Anyhoo … on to the matter of the next chapter.
Coming up next …
Angel goes to a bar (!) and gets hit on. You know, because she’s so beautiful and all. And at this bar, she has an alcoholic beverage (!)
BUT WHICH BEVERAGE???
That’s right … it’s another Unabashedly Bad Contest. If you can guess what alcoholic beverage our beloved Mary Sue imbibes, you will win a WWF VHS from my personal collection. Leave guesses in the comments section.
See you next time for …
Chapter 55 – Reevaluation
8 comments:
I cannot WAIT to read what comes next... I'm hoping that certain characters take on traits of folks we went to college with. :) But that might be too deep.
she drinks white zinfandel. She's a total cheap blush wine chick.
I don't think I put any conscious references to college people in there ... but hey, you're the one with a psych degree ... maybe you'll figure something out!
good guess ... but alas, no. keep guessing!
Fuzzy navel. Am I right?
And yes, Chris, it's totally the muscles.
Jill, I do love the name "Fuzzy Navel," but I can't imagine Angel ordering that without blushing. This also rules out Sex on the Beach.
Keep guessing! I swear this one isn't nearly as obscure as Capio.
Mike's hard lemonade? I didn't drink at that age and have no idea WHAT you would have heard of other than ZIMA, lol, and that reference has already been made!
wait, the next chapter takes place when you were 19; were you already a freshman or was it still summmer? because if you were in college, I'll assume the drink to be natty ice, since that was the nasty beverage of choice on campus- blech!
Also- "transcribe" is misspelled on the bottom of the blog. Just saw that.
WAIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! 19!! College!!!!!!!!!!! that means ARMSOCKS are coming!!!! I can only dream...
What alcoholic beverage would she like...hmmm. I know that you don't like any alcohol period; I quote: "it tastes gross." Still, I would guess that college was a time rife with wild experimentation, so my guess would be a martini.
Post a Comment