Written July 2009
By: John Alejandro
The alarm clock smoothly starts to shout louder as we both squirm in bed. Royce is always the one with the most energy and willpower to reach for the snooze button. I feel the warm wrinkles of the bed radiate, then a stop. He gently pecks my neck with chapped lips and I realize that it is time to get up. But wait…maybe not too soon. I squiggle around to face him and reach in for his lips devastated by a dry summer night. His dimpled cheeks contract and with eyes closed he bites his gums playfully. That smile…I’ll never forget it.
I met Royce at the gym. I was doing my usual ab workout to preserve my rite of passage in THE community, when suddenly this short but noticeably refined scarf-wearing oompa loompa plopped down on the yoga mat. I thought, who wears a scarf to go to the gym? Probably some queen desperate to meet some guy. I got up for a water break and went back to the ab machine. On my way back, I got another look at doompadeedoo. He looked different. It was as if discovering a Nasca work of art. You need to look at the object in multiple views to get the whole picture. I devoured the smooth lines on his face and the clean ridges of his lips. He was beautiful. He grinned with squinting eyes. Oh Shit! I overstayed my glance. But oh god that killer smile can implode islands in its intensity. What do I do? What do I do? Do I risk looking like a jerk to ignore it or like a stalker if I smile back? I decided jerk was a card best played with women, because they’re disgusting and I’m allergic to seafood. So, upon tilting my head lightly, I grinned back and vowed never to look back. I continue to work on my lower abs when out of the corner of my eye he begins to use the machine directly in front of me. I could feel him looking at me. I am an ant in the meticulous eye of a magnifying glass. And for some insane reason I felt pressured to look up. So I did, finding him making circles on his IPod. He looked up and caught my glance. Shit fuck! Fuck! Faaaaackk! In a panic, I get up and decide to cut my workout short to leave. On my way down the stairs I felt someone grab my bicep. I looked back and it was him. Crap! What possibly could he talk to me about? “Hey…I saw you looking at me up there.” He says too congenially. “Oh, hey. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression” I said. “Well don’t worry about it. It happens often.” This guy…“Well then if it happens often, shouldn’t you be used to it?” I retorted sarcastically. “Not from someone like you”.
My lips dock unsuccessfully, but a few moments later we were passionately interlocked.
He opens his eyes and says “Mmm…hey…get up. We gotta go to work”
“Ten more minutes please…” I plead for mercy.
After roughly half an hour of snoozing and spooning we’re both late for work. He stands on the bed holding up a pillow, poised and maniacal like Queen Elizabeth and starts pounding at my chest. I squeal and curl up into a ball.
“No…No…stop!” I start laughing “Come here!”
I lunge at him like a hungry shark and grab his feet and pull him down. The hurt elephant falls sideways without traction and I seize the opportune moment to straddle his hips. He looks up, now at his current predicament of an endangered life. Puppy dog eyes have no effect on me. Necessary evils must be done. I use my head to nudge then tickle his sides. He shrieks in horror flipping his head from side to side. He regains composure, numbed from constant tickle, creates again a look of attack, and retaliates by launching his hands to my obliques (I have them now because I’m no longer fat when I’m 32). I freak out and counterattack his barrage.
“Crap…fine I’m awake”
“Kay, hit the shower stud” he says mockingly
“Ughhh…go make some coffee Napoleon”
I come out of a nice steaming shower and get half-dressed. I call him over to use the shower while I make breakfast. He runs in grabs his towel and slaps my behind. Today I will dice mixed fruit, and make his favorite sausage crepes. The table has already been set beautifully with yesterday’s cut wildflowers and our best China that we use every day, because what’s the purpose of having expensive things if you never use them? Walking out like a supermodel in his boxers and undershirt, he sees me swirling the pan to spread the crepe batter and convulses in excitement.
“Ahhh! Crepes!” he squeals like a lesbian who swallowed helium unable to keep masculinity.
Figuring that we were both already late, we decide to prolong breakfast. Aryan, my great dane, brings me today’s paper, while Alexi, Royce’s foxhound proves useless by sleeping in the corner. Royce’s cell rings to the tune of La Vie en Rose and instead of answering the call, he pulls my hand to dance. The leather bean bags were kicked to the side as we glide through the now spacious mahogany floor. Before the last few seconds he finally picks up the call. We both fully dress, hug goodbye, and decide dinner engagements. He drives off in his AMG, a gift from a Senator he probably screwed years ago, to another day in lobbying for less Congressional oversight in the financial sector. I like to brag that he caused the market to collapse a third time. And I drive Royce the 4th, an Audi great-grandson of Royce the first, to the hospital.
Right as I walk through the double doors of the building, the chief nurse of the pediatric ward and long time BFF, tells me that our child patient who was born with Alzheimer’s and brittle bones is starting to grow younger. What a miracle! I head down to the hospital administrator’s office and sign a couple of papers regarding budget. A couple of disgruntled workers abused a patient. Fired and blacklisted in my networks. 7pm hits, no dead patient paperwork to file, I get to relax until 8pm…Everything’s too important and yet mundane. My assistant beeps me for a 7:15 meeting with a Mr. Hill, but I don’t recall any scheduled meetings. I instruct her to let him in and out pops my husband with a gold chrome box wrapped with a silver ribbon.
“Hi honey” he hands me the box.
“Hi, what’s this for?!”
“For a great morning”
“You are too much…Thank you.”
I give him a kiss on the cheek and start unwrapping. I scavenge through the box, ribbon, and tissue to find a dark-blue silk shirt.
“I love it.”
Hugging the shirt, I reach to close my door to cut the vision off from nosy on-looking staff. I shoo them all away with a raspberry and remind them of my civility jokingly with a smirk. Royce is reading a Forbes magazine and I decide to distract him. Initially, I wanted to flirt, but that’s too easy. Finally, I decide to tease. I gently took off my lab coat, pretending that I didn’t want him to see me undress. Then my tie followed to the floor, and lastly my shirt. I switched off the sharp fluorescent lights to the dim presentation lights and walked closer to him. The tips of our shoes touched.
“Well…dinner and a show”
“You deserve it”
“You sure you won’t get fired for this?”
“Ha! You’re funny. Unless I fire myself, no.”
“Bring it on” he whispers
Royce puts the magazine down and leans back on his chair. Completely bare-chested, I gyrate; ridges gleaming under the yellow light. He gives an entranced look, probably ovulating in his seat. I put on the blue shirt and switch on the harsh lights again.
“Boo! Too short.”
“=D”
We leave in separate cars. I am still a complete incompetent when it comes to directions, so I take longer in plotting them and leaving the parking lot. Royce has them memorized. Any normal human being would too if they’ve been to the same restaurant a hundred times.
“What took you so long?” he says impatiently sitting alone by the window.
“traffic…”
“We took the same freeway to get here!”
“=(“
“You know you make the Middle East richer by wasting gas on detours?”
“Yeah but I make you and them happy because I’m here aren’t I! I’m just killing two birds with one stone.”
“Appeal to emotion”
“No fool, begging the question”
“Touché, I ordered already.”
“Spicy corn soup and the dumpling assortment?
“Yes maam!” he ends mockingly.
The Chinese waiter brings out an array of golden food, corn soup and lightly fried wontons and egg wrapped vegetables and meats. I skewer a shrimp hacao and feed him the first bite. He smiles.
We were walking through an antique swap meet strolling on a fine Saturday morning. Little tents were erected to shield precious wood carvings and metallic artifacts from the intensity of the sun. Vendors were selling lemonade and popcorn to a hungry crowd. “Let’s go to Srisheryl’s tent” Royce pulls my arm. “Why do we always go there? It’s just Indian trash. Besides some poor kid probably cut his arm off welding some of those pieces” I said. “Please!” he begged. We walked towards a bacteria designed orange tent seeing some familiar faces along the way. Royce greeted the owner, while I retorted “Salaam Alaykum”. She gives me a dirty expression. Jewelry, figurines, and vases were scattered all over the floor unorganized to my detriment. Royce picks up a simple box and looks towards me. I questioned his gaze. Something was different, it was an intense seriousness that I couldn’t figure out. The owner then pulled a rope connected to her tent. Suddenly the draped sides of cloth fell down into ripples on the floor. Surrounding patrons gasped. They turned to see what made the velvet noise and if anyone was hurt. I look back to Royce to see if he was injured, only to find him on his knees. “Are you okay? Did you get hit by the tent?” I asked him ignorantly unaware of the situation. “John. Johnny…” “Uh huh?” goblets of water fall down my cheeks. Smiling sadly he says “We’ve been together for two years. I found out what love was because of you. And it asked me no questions, but gave me so much in return. Words become superfluous at this point. All I know is there is not enough time in our lives to spend with each other. John. Will you marry me?........”
“Finished?” I said
“Yeah. I’m stuffed!”
“Okay I’ll see you at home”
“Don’t get lost!” mockingly
“Shut up.”
Guess who got home first this time? I drive up the marble pathway and liven up the living room. Royce, seconds away, gets the mail and gives me an approving look. Alexi and Aryan wag their tails signaling their hunger.
“I think I want to work out dinner”
“Do you want some company?”
“I’ll be quick”
“Let me rephrase that. Can I go with you?”
“Sure”
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