Bitter Ass Bitch

She was the friend that I’d never expected to ask me this fucking vanilla question.

“Mel, when are you gonna have kids? You would make such a great mom.”

Misery likes company eh? A thought.  A quick thought.  A long thought.   I almost had the nerve to ask, “So when are you gonna get a divorce?”

I didn’t.  I feel like it’s just as inappropriate to ask a lady when she’s going to bear children as it is to when she’s going to leave her lame ass husband or drown her whiny ass kid.

To be truthful.  I don’t support killing your children, but I guess as annoyed and anxious as you are about me having a child, I’m equally as ready for you to make your kid shut the fuck up.

I get it. Both ridiculous. Both uncalled for.

But seriously, can you get your kid to shut the fuck up?

I’m trying to have a conversation with my once sexy ass vibrant friend.

Is this just age?  You watch your once colorful friends fold into a bland ass manila envelope.

I’ll do without.  Khaki always looked like shit on me.

Flat Tire

I was on my way to his house when I started feeling a consistent thump on the rear right side of my car.  I pulled over next to the cemetery and got out – flat tire.

I had never fixed a flat tire so I sat on the curb for a minute and called my boyfriend to come help.  He lived right down the road.  Immediately after the phone call I felt a rush of competition and convinced myself I could change the tire, maybe even before he would arrive.  Talk about how to impress a man, right?

I pulled out the tools and spare from my embarrassingly trashed trunk and started a timer on my phone.  I have always been uncomfortably obsessed with efficiency and timing.

Lifting the car with the jack was the easy part.  I had to stand and jump on the tire iron to loosen the bolts.  Right as I was about to loosen the last bolt a lowrider with spiked rims and bass blasting slowed down to a stop.  Here we fucking go, I thought.

He rolled down the window with weed smoke pouring out.  Who hot boxes anymore?

“Say baby, you need a hand?”

I didn’t even look up and kept working on the tire.

“Na, I think I got it. Thanks though.”

He reached his neck out of the car, “Damn, I like your ambitiousness girl, can I get your number?”

I stood up annoyed and waved the tire iron at him, “Yea, you can grab it from my man when he gets here.  Keep it moving.  And it’s ‘I like your ambition’, not ambitiousness, by the way.”

He slid back in his seat, “Damn bitch, I was just trying to tell you your beautiful. You a english teacher and shit?”

Sweating profusely, I pulled off the tire and slammed it on the ground, “Damn bitch I was just trying to change my tire.  Who the fuck hot boxes cars these days anyway? Your stoned ass probably couldn’t help even if you wanted to. Now, move the fuck on!”

He murmured some shit and turned up his music and sped off.

It took me exactly 8 minutes and 32 seconds to change out the tire. I was sitting on the curb smiling when he pulled up.  He ripped off his helmet annoyed and took a walk around the car.

“It took me exactly 8 minutes and 32 seconds to change my first flat tire!  Not bad eh?  After I called—”

“Why did you even call me for help?”

He was unamused and definitely unimpressed.  I stopped smiling.

“Well, I have never done it before and I wanted to test myself and see if I could do it without you before you got here.”

He grabbed his helmet, “Well, most people try to figure things out before they call and ask for help.”  He put on his helmet and got back on his motorcycle.

My accomplishment turned confusion quickly shifted into a familiar rage.  My eyes began to water and I flipped open my pocketknife.

I  walked past my car and towards him on his bike and stabbed my knife into his tire.

I jumped in my car and screamed, “Say baby, you need a hand?” and sped off.

 

 

 

Crystal Store Tyrant

We grew up catholic for a chunk of my childhood which fortunately ended after my mom slept with our priest. Due to guilt and some loose traditions that still have their ways with my family, a few of my siblings still baptize their children in the catholic church.

My oldest brother called and asked me to be my niece’s godmother. Being the atheist shit head that I am, I accepted out of honor and pure irony.

Traditionally, godparents assume responsibility for the child’s religious education.

Traditionally, godparents are to care for the child if something tragic were to happen to the parents.

If either tradition still resonated with my brother, I highly doubt I would’ve been his first choice or any choice for that matter.

A day before the baptism, I went on a venture to find my niece a suitable gift.

Traditionally, the gift should symbolize the child’s dedication to the catholic faith, such as a bible or hideous cross necklace.

Because there was no chance I was going to buy any of that religious shit, I decided to visit the other side of the spiritual spectrum, the crystal store.

When I walked in, the witchy girl with smeared eye makeup behind the counter twitched her eye at me, “Hi.”

I hated this store already.

As I looked around, the clerks stare followed me as if I were to steal something. Her intuitions not too far off from my usual tendencies.

An old homeless man walked into the store shortly after, where she focused all of her shitty attention, “Sir, you need to leave.”

He walked up to the register, “I was just coming in to see if I could get some water for my jug, it’s really hot outside.” He placed an empty gallon jug on the table.

She stared at the jug in disgust, as if he’d placed a steaming pile of shit before her eyes.

“Sir, you need to leave or I’m going to call the cops. You’re making me feel threatened in my sacred space and I need you to respect that.”

He looked at her confused and grabbed his bottle, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you feel threatened, I’m just really thirsty. I’ll ask another store.”

I grabbed the man’s arm as he was walking away and turned to the girl, “Wait a minute. Seriously? I don’t know shit about spirituality but this should be that place and you should be that person. It’s a hundred fucking degrees out there. Is it that big of a deal to just go grab him some water from the faucet?”

She whipped her head back at me, eye twitching again, “No! I cannot just go get him some water! I’m the only one here and I can’t just walk in the back with you two up here.”

I laughed, “Okay well I have an idea. How about we walk outside, you lock up and we’ll wait while you grab him some water. Just so you can be sure that we don’t steal anything from your store.”

Annoyed, she reached her two dainty fingers out for his water jug, “Fine.”

The man and I walked outside the store. I reached in my purse and pulled out two cigarettes, lit both and handed him one, “Hey man, I’m sorry about this chick. I mean I’m sure you have to deal with assholes like this all the time, I’m just sorry about that.”

He nodded his head taking a drag from the cigarette, “It’s not your fault, I can see why women feel threatened by me. Men don’t necessarily have the best track records when it comes to violence against women and I’m sorry about that.”

I nudged his arm and we smiled at each other, “It’s not your fault either.”

Carefully making sure not to touch the man, the girl awkwardly handed him back his jug “Let’s not make a habit of this.”

He nodded at me, “Thank you ladies very much.”

I nodded back.

I was ready to get my gift and get the hell out of the store. To be honest, I didn’t even want to spend my money in such a place, but I was running short on time.

“Do you have any type of prayer beads similar to a Rosary?”

She rolled her eyes, “We have mala beads. Rosaries were actually stolen from the Hindus.”

I laughed, “ ‘Stolen’? That’s an interesting choice in word. Not adapted or inspired. So many words in this world and you choose ‘stolen’. Are you trying to sell items in this store or do you just enjoy insulting your customers?”

She shifted her shoulders. “Well I don’t expect you to know where mala beads originate from but yes, the ‘rosary’ was adapted from the Hindu prayer beads.”

I laughed again, “That’s much better. Now you know, I despise organized religion, and if I happened to be a die-hard catholic, I might’ve been offended by your poor choice of words, but I’m not, just your shitty attitude. Now please direct me to these ‘mala’ beads’.”

She pointed.

I saw a huge amethyst from the corner of my eye, “How much for that beast of a rock?”

She snickered at the thought of me buying the rock, “That ‘rock’ is expensive. That ‘rock’ is an amethyst geode and it’s $800.”

Not breaking eye contact, I walked over, grabbed the amethyst, and slammed it on the table, “Fuck the mala beads, I’ll take the rock instead.”

—————

Around three in the morning, I put the rock in my passenger seat, buckled it tightly, and headed back to the crystal store.

I parked my car a few blocks away near the creek and launched the $800 “amethyst” through the front window of the store.

No alarm.
Fucking hippies.

I jumped through the window and opened the register with the key that was left in the drawer.
Fucking hippies.

I grabbed exactly $866 out of the register for the rock, $200 for the hell of it, and stole their most expensive “mala” beads.

When I was heading back to my car I saw the same homeless man from earlier watching me from the river.

I ran over with a huge smile and handed him the $200. We shared a quick laugh and by the time I got back to my car, he was gone.

My niece looked adorable the next morning at the ceremony wearing her brand new “mala” beads.

Lord, hear our prayer.

“Pro-Life” Crack Head

“Melissa are you listening?  It’s procedure that we have an answer to this question.” Her hair was tight, she looked exhausted in her wrinkled scrubs.  Crocks, she was wearing crocks.  Nurses choice for comfort.  Nurses need as much comfort as possible I thought, they have hard jobs.

I had completely zoned out.  I snapped back to the question and shook my head yes.

She began writing in her notes.  “Very well, that is what we needed.  You’re strong sweetie, strongest sixteen-year-old I’ve seen.  I understand you don’t have your parents consent.  Do you have a signature from the judge?”

I looked at my oldest sister Ann.  She took it out of her purse.  She was always the most responsible out of all of us girls.

“Alright, the procedure you have chosen is dilation and extraction due to you being around 26 weeks….”

I faded out again. I figured my sisters would nudge me if there was anything important I needed to answer.

Four weeks ago I was told in Texas that I was too far along to have an abortion.

“Honey, we do not facilitate abortions past twenty weeks in this state.”

“Fuck,” I bit my lip hard and tasted blood, “Wait, in THIS state? What’s the closest state that will?”

The lovely Little Rock, Arkansas. I’m being sarcastic.  Abortions past twenty weeks were legal there I just had to plead my case to a judge.

I called Ann once, twice, she finally picked up the third time.

“This better be good Mel.  I am in the middle of a shift and—“

“I’m pregnant.  I need to get an abortion and I am too far along to get one in Texas.  Arkansas is the closest place.”

Not skipping a beat, she sighed, “Alright, I’ll pull out a credit card.  We can put everything on there and you can make payments to me.  Sound good?  I have to get back to work I’m drowning in patients.”

All three of my sisters stopped whatever they were doing that week and picked me up from the small town I was living in and drove me to Arkansas.

“She doesn’t even look pregnant.”  Ann, driving, turned around to look at my stomach.

“Ann watch the fucking road!”  Lynn had a fear of car accidents since she was a kid.  Fear of a lot of things actually.

“Yea but look at her tits!  Mine are still bigger.” Marie grabbed her own while visually comparing them to mine.

Ann looked at her in disgust. “Marie why does everything have to be a competition to you? Your pregnant sister? Jesus, we all know you have the biggest tits and the best body.  Everyone agree? Yes?  Let’s move on.”

Marie smiled and winked back at me from the front seat.

Ann and Marie were the oldest and closest in age and completely different in every way imaginable.  Ann followed the straight path and Marie liked to fuck the straight out of anything she could find.  They are both stubborn, actually all four of us are really stubborn, so there’s that.

Ann looked at me through the review mirror.  “Seriously though, how did you not know that you were pregnant?  Did you feel sick?  I mean you don’t look pregnant but you definitely look like you’ve  gained some weight.”

“Mainly in her tits!”  Marie started to laugh and slapped my other sister Lynn on the knees.

Lynn rolled her eyes, “Will you bitches just shut the fuck up before I jump out of this moving car.  She didn’t know she was pregnant alright? Leave her alone!”

My sister Lynn was always trying to protect me.  I once watched her take a beer bottle to a guy’s head for grabbing my ass at a party.  She is also just naturally emotional and feisty.  We shared a room most of our childhood.  I usually don’t allow her to do so much talking for me but I didn’t mind this time.  I was exhausted.

We went straight to the clinic when we arrived.  There was a group of religious protesters standing outside of the facility screaming. Disgusting photos, bibles, megaphones, you name it these fucking scum bags had it.  I felt nauseous and threw up a little in my mouth.  My sisters grabbed my arms, rushing me past the group.  I swallowed the vomit.

One women, ex meth addict, face covered in scabs and black teeth seething at my existence got in my face, “God will forgive a slut little girl, but he won’t forgive a murderer!”  I didn’t break eye contact.  She was spitting all over my face, I didn’t wipe it.

Lynn pushed the woman out of my face.  “Bitch, I will kill you if you get close to my sister again, I promise you that!”

The woman began laughing hysterically and Lynn began walking towards the woman.  Marie hooked Lynn’s arm and yanked her back towards us.

Ann shoved Lynn towards the clinic, “Lynn chill out.  The last thing we need right now is you fighting with some useless drug addict.  Let’s go.”

“Ugh fucking crack head,” Marie patted Lynn on the back and they smiled at each other. Ann smacked both of their arms.

The door was metal with bullet holes all over it.  It was locked which made sense considering the bullet holes.

Ann pressed the doorbell.

“Do you have an appointment?”

Ann got close to the speaker, “Yes, for our sister Mel.”

“Ok, I will buzz you in.  Keep your hands in the air as you walk in and the security guard will search you.”

Lynn lifted her pant leg and showed us her knife, “What?  I always carry this bad boy.”

Ann looked annoyed, “Go put it in the car you idiot.”

I looked back at the protester woman while she paced back and forth on the street yelling something I didn’t feel like understanding.  The door opened abruptly and the guard shuffled us in quickly.  He searched our waste belts but not our legs.  Lynn smiled.

It was a two-day long procedure.  After the first appointment we headed to the court house to see the judge.  She was a strong southern woman with a stern disposition.  She sat at a large wooden desk that towered over my tiny seat.

She gave me a quick scan and sighed, “Why are you here?”

Lynn in a sassy tone answered for me, “She needs an abortion and she doesn’t have permission from our mom and we don’t talk to our dad.”

She put her hand up at Lynn, leaned in and looked at me closer, “Have you thought this through young lady?  I mean as much as a girl your age possibly could?”

I could feel Lynn’s rage, she has always hated authority, she uncomfortably shifted her shoulders. Ann gave her a strong nudge.

I nodded at the judge.

She looked confused, “Why didn’t you just get this done in Texas?”

Ann, respectfully butted in, “Ma’am she is too far along to have it in Texas.”

The judge looked my sisters up and down irritated, “Can you ladies step outside for a moment.  I want to talk to her alone.”

My sisters distrustfully shuffled out of the room and closed the door.

She leaned back in, “What’s really going on?  How did you not know you were over twenty weeks pregnant?  You should be ashamed of yourself.”

I took a deep breath, “I have been in bed for months. My boyfriend doesn’t let me leave the house.  That is why I didn’t realize I was pregnant, I thought I was getting fat.  When I try to leave he threatens to kill himself and he has tried a few times.  He’s abusive, he’s a sex addict, he’s a piece of shit and I can’t be connected to him for the rest of my life. I was also taking a lot of pills so who even knows if the baby is healthy. Honestly, It’s this or I jump off a fucking cliff.”

She signed the paper, I got up and walked out.

My sisters jumped up from their seats as I walked past.

Marie grabbed my arm, “Did she sign?”

I handed Ann the paper.  They all let out a gasp of relief.

As we walked up to the clinic the next day, the same protester stood in front of the door screaming, “God will punish you for the rest of your life.  God will hate you and you will pay for your sins.  God does not forgive murders!”

Ann under her breathe coached everyone, “Just keep walking, she is mentally unstable, Lynn don’t do anything stupid.  Marie just slide past her and press the button.”

Lynn put her head down and squeezed the shit out of my hand.  It was taking everything in her to not beat the shit out of this woman.  Marie stepped in front and casually bumped the woman out of the way of the door bell, “Outta my way cunt.”  When the door opened the guard looked annoyed, “Kaylee you know you are not supposed to be on this side of the street.  Get back over there before I call back up.”

She backed up a bit, tripping over the curb, “Tommy, YOU know you are not spose to be protectin these satan lovers!  Gramma taught you better!”

He slammed the door. Of course they are related, I thought.

The rest of the details after I don’t feel to be too important. The drugs helped a ton.  When I awoke from surgery Lynn was asleep next to me and Marie was reading me passages from a conspiracy theory book about the reptilian race.

Ann interrupted, “Marie, give it a rest.  She doesn’t need to wake up to that bull shit.”

“Bullshit?  You want to know what’s some bullshit?  The fact that we had to drive this far for our sister to get a fucking abortion because some world order reptiles want to be able to control us like sheep.” She put the book on my lap and walked out of the room.

Ann sat down next to me, “They gave me instructions for your recovery.  I already paid.  They said you are free to go when you are ready and they waived the counseling.  They didn’t think it was necessary.”

We heard screaming coming from the lobby.  Lynn jumped up.  Marie came running back in, “That fucking meth head got in and she has a gun.”

I slowly got up from my bed and began walking toward the lobby.  As they tried to stop me, the woman met us in the hallway, gun pointed at my head.  Her hands were shaking.  My sisters stopped and all of the screaming went silent as I continued walking towards her until my head was touching the barrel.

“Do it you fucking pussy.”  I stared into her pathetic, confused eyes.  She looked away.

Time sped back up and Lynn tackled me out of the way to the ground.  The woman lowered and dropped the gun to the ground.  Lynn and Marie helped me up.  I looked at Ann looking at the gun on the ground.  Ann picked up the gun and emptied the bullets.

The clinic including the guard, all watching at that moment, sighed in relief.  I didn’t because I had never seen this look in Ann’s eyes and I knew she wasn’t done. Fuck.  Sweet, smart, well put together Ann turned the gun around and cracked the woman on the nose with the handle once, twice and the third time the woman hit the ground. Ann jumped on top of her and continued hitting her with the base of the gun as blood sprayed out of her face and onto Ann’s.  She stopped for a minute and looked up at Lynn. Lynn smiled, bent over and tossed Ann the knife from her pant leg.  Ann pressed it to the woman’s neck, “Where’s your god now?” The woman gasped for air, spitting and drooling blood and broken teeth.

Everyone in shock, watched and waited.  Marie touched Ann’s back, Ann jumped.

“Ann, no.  That’s enough fun for today.”

Ann looked at me and I nodded.  She tossed the knife back at Lynn and wiped the blood from her face with her sleeve, “This bitch better not have any bloodborne pathogens.”

No one said a word as we walked out of the clinic and to the car.  Lynn, pleased, skipped past Ann and jumped in the driver seat, “I think I’ll drive psycho.”

We sat in the car for a second until we all collectively broke the silence.  It was the first time I’d laughed in months.

Dog Park Nazi

I sat on the edge of a rock smoking a cigarette and looking at the water.  My dog, off leash, close to my side, smelling the air.  Beautiful sunset, cold hands and cigarette in mouth, I put on my gloves while smoke burned my eyes.  I put my head between my legs and squeezed my eyes shut to stop the burning.  I thought about how nice it was to be alone, actually alone.  I left my phone at home to excuse myself from all the text and phone calls from my siblings.  I love them, but fuck.  They have always been this way.  Overbearing, nosy, opinionated, but right now?  All I want is quiet.  I guess feeling connected and arguing on like normal makes it easier in their grieving process.  They, after all, have spouses and children to fill up their time and space.  I have my dog.  It’s been like this for years.  Lovers sometimes.  Maybe I prefer to be alone, I’ve chosen it for so long.  I am at an age where children could happen.  I love kids, I think I may have wanted them more than my siblings, but nothing has seemed right enough for me to take that leap.

I looked back at the sunset.  A good one.  A type of numb hurt that shouldn’t make sense.  My dog got up and started trotting towards another person with a dog.  The woman was stiff to his presence, hell probably stiff to everything. “Excuse me,” she yelled. “Why is your dog just running wild?”

Exhausted I answered, “He’s not aggressive I promise, just wants to meet your dog.  Is your dog aggressive?”

“Well no, but your dog should not be off leash, your being a negligent owner!”

“Excuse me?” I snapped at her cunty stamina and accusations.

The woman shifted in her tight panties. “It needs to be on a leash and I saw you flick your cigarette on the ground.  This isn’t your own trashy backyard you know.  You can’t just do whatever you want.”

“I’m sorry ma’m is this your property?”

“No, it’s public property and it’s for everyone to enjoy.”

“Oh it’s not your property?  Then mind your own fucking business.”

Tongue-tied, “You, you have some nerve young lady.  I’m going to call the police.”

I laughed a crazy laugh. “You think the police give a fuck about me and your yuppy ass?  Be my guest.  Besides, don’t be jealous that your dog is an idiot and can’t be trusted off leash.  He’s probably disloyal because he wants to run away from your snoopy, anxious, self righteous ass.  I don’t blame em'”

Shocked and a bit deflated she snapped, “Missy it sounds like your mother never taught you any manners!  I feel sorry for her.”

“Well you should you intrusive hag, she was murdered two days ago.  Now fuck off!”