Story #2
Fuck Off
Exhausted, we sat at the bar, my Aunt Sweetheart and I, following a harrowing day. We had just finished the funeral and disastrous funeral dinner of my three-month old daughter, Kaylee. I had picked out a beautiful restaurant to have the dinner at, but, inexplicably, the restaurant had put our part–basically my entire extended family–in the basement, which looked more like a frat house than a classy restaurant, complete with pool tables, plaid carpet, and a “Beer Blvd.” sign over the door to the bathroom.
I was horrified.
To make matters worse, my own mother was running up and down the stairs with ketchup bottles and silverware.
Disastrous, like I said.
With all of that finally over, and the thought of my grandmother leaning over the tiny white casket to kiss Kaylee’s beautiful face still lingering in my mind, I ordered us two stiff drinks and lit a cigarette.
I could finally relax.
Almost immediately, though, a handsome man clambered over to us and exclaimed, “Well, you two look all business-ey!”
I stared dead at him, as if to say, “What. Do. You. Want.”
He stammered a bit, uncomfortable, and asked if he could bum a cigarette. I gave one to him and he went away.
The next time he came over, I just pushed the pack of cigarettes in his direction, without looking his way or pausing in what I was saying to Aunt Sweetheart.
He left again.
Undeterred, he ordered us drinks and had them sent over.
I turned around in my seat to face him and fairly screeched, “GREAT! NOW WE’RE EVEN!”
My Aunt, surprised at my reaction, simply stared at me with her mouth open.
I apologized, and said that when I go out with my friends, they like to joke and say that, when it comes to me and men, I have a permanent “Fuck Off” sticker on my forehead.
Aghast, she declared, “Well you’re right! I almost fucked off!”
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