It’s funny how writing about personal experience felt so difficult after training my brain in fiction but you know what they say, get a girl talking about herself and you can’t shut her up! (And by they I basically mean Sean Hannity). I’m gonna stop talking about myself for a little bit here, or not completely, I’m gonna start talking about the characters in my brain, y’all. They cannot be silenced. Also, there’s only so many times you can write about walking to Starbucks with your dog. I hope I make up characters smart enough to buy their coffee local.
It’s 9 am and most functional, employed adults are awake. Gia is, instead, under a cascading, too-heavy, sale-rack Anthropologie quilt dreaming about having a life.
There is a friendly knock at the door. After the third time, it gets aggressive. Picture Danny DeVito locked out of his apartment with just his boxer briefs (I know, weird, I always pictured him in whitey tighties, too…).
Eyes crusted over, Gia answers the door.
“Ugghhh, I was having the most delightfully pretentious dream about hosting a Ted Talk about achieving your dreams…” Her hair is matted to her head, being held in a pony-tale by a seemingly invisible hair elastic.
Tara enters, scanning the room, a visibly disgusted look on her face. “Jesus, what did you do last night? Go beyond the wall and get into a fight with a White walker or some shit?”
“Are you Game of Thrones insulting me right now? Is that what you’re doing? I think getting into a fight with Peter Dinklage would’ve been funnier.”
“You’re the worst,” Tara says, picking a bra off the ground with her foot, “can we go now? I waited as long as I could but I want to get to the pool before all the bald men in your apartment complex start showing up and claiming chairs. Bald guys have a thing for me.”
“Since when are there a lot of bald guys at my apartment complex?”
“Since every time we’ve ever gone to your pool.”
“I’d like a specific example.”
“OH, LET’S DO THIS. Cue the damn flash back music!”
“I hate you for so many reasons,” Gia says, sniffing at her arm pits to get a feel for how she should proceed with the day.
“I’m imaging the Game of Thrones theme song, what about you?”
“Of course you are. Your mom got you into Game of Thrones, didn’t she?
“Yeah, cause I make decisions based on what my mom likes.” Tara gives a Tina Fey eye roll as her screen lights up with a text from her mom: “How could they let Arya see her family die like that?!” She replies: “MOM!! YOU’RE SUCH A SPOILER! STOP SAYING THINGS ABOUT G.O.T.”
“I’m going to ignore you texting your Mom about Game of Thrones. Now get back to the bald guys.”
“Yes yes, it was a Friday…”
[Game of Thrones theme starts playing]
There are two bald guys in the hot tub and one thirty-ish year-old women feeling proud about her bikini body. Gia and Tara look at each other, daring the other to go in first.
The bald guy with the plaid shorts is talking about his recent trip to India:
“I found a driver that spoke English! He charged me 100 Rupees and I gave 120 and said to him ‘that’s for speaking English!” As the words came out of his mouth, another racist angel was born.
[Back to present]
“Wait a hot second, was that guy really that racist? I don’t remember him being that racist.”
“I haven’t even gotten to the part where he tells that woman not to sue her boss for sexual harassment because she doesn’t have enough money.”
“Okay, okay,” Gia gets indignant, “can we agree here that it’s not exactly the QUANTITY of bald white dudes that live at my apartment complex but the QUALITY that makes the difference here. I’m actually a fan of Howie Mandel, his idiosyncrasies are super endearing.”
“You’ve only heard the first bald guy story! And I didn’t even finish! You have at least five more that I know of. Remember that one who let us smoke some of his joint. Actually, I guess he wasn’t so bad.”
“What is going on here? Can we get into your creepy fascination with bald men some other time. I’m going to ruin every part of Game of Thrones if you say the world bald one more time. And honestly, I think you may want to talk to like, a professional, about this.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
Will they make it to the pool before all the lounge chairs fill up? And will Tara ever stop talking about bald guys? But more importantly, will Gia ever actually make her bed? Check back next week for more weekend fiction y’all.