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Something new pt. 2
John woke up at 7:00 AM when Judy dropped a pot in the kitchen loudly. Twenty seconds later he got a text message. "FUCK!!! SRY DUDE, BROKE YR POT. I'LL GET NEW 1 WHEN I GET PAID. U UP?"
John didn't process any of this. He looked at his Windows Media Player. Swirls, lines, spinning dots, music. He texted back "no i'm dedddddddddd".
John heard a laugh from Judy. It was just one laugh, like "ha." She texted him back, "GET UP. LET'S GO EAT"
John was already up. He thought about checking his e-mail. No, don't. It'll be there when I get back. It will be there forever. E-mail doesn't have an expiration date like milk. John opened his internet explorer and as it loaded he went downstairs. He didn't get dressed because he was still wearing shorts from last night.
"Judy, I'm tired. You drive."
Judy looked at John's bare chest. "Put a shirt on."
John found a shirt by the washer and dryer down the hall. It was Judy's Bad Religion t-shirt. He put it on.
"Fuck that, man. Don't you have your own clothes?"
John didn't say anything. Judy already walked out the door. John slipped on some flip-flops before drifting toward Judy's car.
"How tall are you?" John said in a flat-tone.
Judy looked at John. "Six-eight."
"Me too. Let's play beach volleyball together. We'll win everything. Plus I'll get to stare at your ass for like half the game. Sweet."
"I get the losing end of that deal. I have to look at your ass half the time."
John looked at Judy. She seemed amused he thought. Half her mouth was smiling half-way.
"Hey, if we have kids they'll be like eight feet tall. We'll have to have a special house and special beds and special sinks and special bathrooms."
"Yeah, we'll have to replace our chairs with thrones. We'll have to get booster seats for our booster seats."
Judy played with her hair as she drove. John watched her fingers swirl through her hair. It made him feel vaguely sad.
Judy parked the car at the diner. They walked in and sat at their corner table like always. John got biscuits and gravy like always. Judy always got one of two things - cereal or oatmeal. John always made fun of whatever she got.
"I'd like oatmeal" Judy tells the waitress.
"You know what would be sweet? On Halloween I could dress-up like a penis and throw water balloons filled with oatmeal at people."
"So what is your costume going to be?" Judy was a master at saying everything with a flat affect.
"I thought I'd go as a J. Crew model and wear a turtleneck. You know, I'll need some protection from the cold."
"...and the rest of humanity." Judy sipped her coffee and stared off at the neon "open" sign.
The waitress brought the food. John dumped hot sauce all over his biscuits.
"Judy, can we be serious for a second? Who were you talking to last night?" John took a big sloppy bite and spilled gravy on his shorts. Judy grimaced and eyeballed her shirt.
"Some guy I met at a show. He was auctioning off his artwork to help pay for school. It is great stuff." Judy allowed herself to smile as she said this.
"So... how did my height get brought into this conversation?" John said while precariously waving a fork-full of biscuits near his face.
"Oh, it wasn't. I was just curious."
John thought about this and tried not to frown. "How many balloons do you think we could fill with your oatmeal?"
"Let me see your hand."
John held out his hand. Judy stabbed it with a fork.
"Is this a metaphor? Maybe four balloons for the four holes you poked in my hand?" John tried to act calm and cool and forget the pain welling in his hand. She didn't break the skin, but it will probably leave a bruise or some mark. It would probably be the most memorable part of his day, and he'll want to tell everyone at work about it.
"Give me your other hand."
"My other hand is feeling shy right now."
They ate in silence for a while.
"Judy, what do you think? Is it going to get serious with this art guy?" John didn't know what he wanted her to say or how he'd feel based on what she'd say. In fact, John hadn't thought of asking the question until it was coming out of his mouth.
Judy looked at John and then her oatmeal. "I don't know. He recently broke up with a long-term girlfriend. Maybe I'll be the rebound before he finds that girl that reminds him of everything his misses from his ex, other than the stuff he hated." She swirled her coffee around.
"See, that's the problem these days. People want to live in stories, they want to live on reality television, they think there is some sort of happy ending waiting for them - you know, like when they get the new car when they finish the last mission on Road Rules. But there isn't a new car. At least, I'm pretty sure that I'm not a new car." John had an uncontrollable urge to check his e-mail, but he somehow managed to take a bite of his biscuits and gravy instead.
Judy looked down again. "No, John. No you aren't."
John didn't process any of this. He looked at his Windows Media Player. Swirls, lines, spinning dots, music. He texted back "no i'm dedddddddddd".
John heard a laugh from Judy. It was just one laugh, like "ha." She texted him back, "GET UP. LET'S GO EAT"
John was already up. He thought about checking his e-mail. No, don't. It'll be there when I get back. It will be there forever. E-mail doesn't have an expiration date like milk. John opened his internet explorer and as it loaded he went downstairs. He didn't get dressed because he was still wearing shorts from last night.
"Judy, I'm tired. You drive."
Judy looked at John's bare chest. "Put a shirt on."
John found a shirt by the washer and dryer down the hall. It was Judy's Bad Religion t-shirt. He put it on.
"Fuck that, man. Don't you have your own clothes?"
John didn't say anything. Judy already walked out the door. John slipped on some flip-flops before drifting toward Judy's car.
"How tall are you?" John said in a flat-tone.
Judy looked at John. "Six-eight."
"Me too. Let's play beach volleyball together. We'll win everything. Plus I'll get to stare at your ass for like half the game. Sweet."
"I get the losing end of that deal. I have to look at your ass half the time."
John looked at Judy. She seemed amused he thought. Half her mouth was smiling half-way.
"Hey, if we have kids they'll be like eight feet tall. We'll have to have a special house and special beds and special sinks and special bathrooms."
"Yeah, we'll have to replace our chairs with thrones. We'll have to get booster seats for our booster seats."
Judy played with her hair as she drove. John watched her fingers swirl through her hair. It made him feel vaguely sad.
Judy parked the car at the diner. They walked in and sat at their corner table like always. John got biscuits and gravy like always. Judy always got one of two things - cereal or oatmeal. John always made fun of whatever she got.
"I'd like oatmeal" Judy tells the waitress.
"You know what would be sweet? On Halloween I could dress-up like a penis and throw water balloons filled with oatmeal at people."
"So what is your costume going to be?" Judy was a master at saying everything with a flat affect.
"I thought I'd go as a J. Crew model and wear a turtleneck. You know, I'll need some protection from the cold."
"...and the rest of humanity." Judy sipped her coffee and stared off at the neon "open" sign.
The waitress brought the food. John dumped hot sauce all over his biscuits.
"Judy, can we be serious for a second? Who were you talking to last night?" John took a big sloppy bite and spilled gravy on his shorts. Judy grimaced and eyeballed her shirt.
"Some guy I met at a show. He was auctioning off his artwork to help pay for school. It is great stuff." Judy allowed herself to smile as she said this.
"So... how did my height get brought into this conversation?" John said while precariously waving a fork-full of biscuits near his face.
"Oh, it wasn't. I was just curious."
John thought about this and tried not to frown. "How many balloons do you think we could fill with your oatmeal?"
"Let me see your hand."
John held out his hand. Judy stabbed it with a fork.
"Is this a metaphor? Maybe four balloons for the four holes you poked in my hand?" John tried to act calm and cool and forget the pain welling in his hand. She didn't break the skin, but it will probably leave a bruise or some mark. It would probably be the most memorable part of his day, and he'll want to tell everyone at work about it.
"Give me your other hand."
"My other hand is feeling shy right now."
They ate in silence for a while.
"Judy, what do you think? Is it going to get serious with this art guy?" John didn't know what he wanted her to say or how he'd feel based on what she'd say. In fact, John hadn't thought of asking the question until it was coming out of his mouth.
Judy looked at John and then her oatmeal. "I don't know. He recently broke up with a long-term girlfriend. Maybe I'll be the rebound before he finds that girl that reminds him of everything his misses from his ex, other than the stuff he hated." She swirled her coffee around.
"See, that's the problem these days. People want to live in stories, they want to live on reality television, they think there is some sort of happy ending waiting for them - you know, like when they get the new car when they finish the last mission on Road Rules. But there isn't a new car. At least, I'm pretty sure that I'm not a new car." John had an uncontrollable urge to check his e-mail, but he somehow managed to take a bite of his biscuits and gravy instead.
Judy looked down again. "No, John. No you aren't."
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