Up & Out - Ariella Papa [22]
“Are either of you guys in the mood for some Greek in Astoria or Indian in Jackson Heights?”
“Actually, I’m supposed to be having dinner with Ron tonight. I promised I’d make him lasagna.” As if she didn’t see him every night. I think about trying to rally her with a “girls’ night,” but I’m sure she is anxious to gush to him about the color of the dresses. I doubt Ron can really keep up her level of enthusiasm.
“How about you, Lauryn?”
But, no, Lauryn has decided to spend her Sunday night at Barnes & Noble to do some research on her bird stuff. Our cable is out, so I’m destined for a night of reheated leftovers and lying on the couch with Esme scripts.
At home, I’m lonely. I realize we never got to finish our conversation on the train. Back in the day, we used to spend Sundays together rehashing the weekend, no matter what we did. Sometimes we met up late Saturday night and got dirty sandwiches from a bodega and crashed at whoever’s house.
None of us cared about work. None of us had serious issues. There was no drama. We didn’t hope to get each other’s voice mail. We wanted to talk. We didn’t even have cell phones.
Tomorrow, I have to go in and deal with everyone else’s shit about the takeover. Who knows if I’ll even have a job? I can’t call Tommy. I’m scared to call Seamus. I laid enough shit on him last night and then ran out with no shoes on. He must think I’m the biggest freak. Fuck!
I am going to bed early. That’s how I’ll forget it all. I remember the vibrator the girls bought me as a joke when I moved out of Tommy’s place. It’s nine-thirty. The bookstore closes at eleven. No, I shouldn’t. I’ll feel even lonelier. If only the X-Files was still on. I am going to call Tommy. Damn it, I’m not even drunk. There is no good reason to call him. It would be an obvious booty call. I pick up the phone. I dial the first few numbers. I can’t. I won’t.
But we used to have such great Sundays. We were both closet X-Files geeks. We had a routine: sex, bong hits and X-Files. We would watch the new episode and then one classic from Tommy’s DVD collection. Afterward, I’d make us ice-cream sundaes. That was the perfect Sunday. Now I’m reduced to the hot-pink wonder wand and leftover pasta. With any luck, I’ll find some NyQuil in the bathroom cabinet. I suck.
Whenever I feel this low, I comfort myself with something Tommy said on one of those nights. It’s become bittersweet, but at this point, I’ll try anything. We watched the X-Files— the one about the androgynous guy who is a sexual dynamo. He seems to be part of a religious cult, but then it turns out they’re all aliens and they leave the planet. Oh, the X-Files had some knockout writing in the early days. Anyway, in my special little memory we were eating our ice cream.
“So,” I said. “What if I were from another planet?”
“You are from another planet.”
“No, Tommy, seriously.”
“Oh, are you being serious now?” He leaned over and kissed me with cold lips. I didn’t budge. “Okay, what if you were from another planet?”
“What would you do?” He shrugged. “Come on, you feed me weed—this is what you get!”
“Okay, okay. I’d be like, ‘Cool, my girlfriend’s an alien.’ What could I do?”
“What if I wanted you to come back with me?”
“To your planet?” I nodded. “Is it safe for Earthlings?”
“If you’re with me.”
“If you really were an alien and you really wanted me to come back to your planet, then I would. That’s good enough for me.”
“Even if there was no ice cream?” He shrugged. “Or no X-Files? Or no weed?”
“There would be you. I’d think, ‘This girl is cool, top-notch. She’s an alien, but as long as I can survive on the planet and she’s not already betrothed to a Klingon, what more do I need?’”
That was a very good night. And even though we aren’t together anymore, it’s nice to think that at some point in my life there was someone who would have come to my planet, just for me. I know I’m getting past my prime. I have blown my shot with Tommy…and now Seamus.
I get up and go to my bureau. I dig deep into the bottom of my underwear drawer and find it. It practically glows. I turn