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Archive for ‘Chapter 5: The Grapes of Passive Aggression’
“Counter-Girl, is it?” she said with a laugh. “Who cleans messes with a single swipe! Who can lift two pint glasses one handed!” She chuckled again, then gave Brent a mysterious smile. “Well, you can call me CG then.”
I shrugged. “Just to everyone at Café Yoko’s,” I said with a straight face. “Anyway, you’re right; I should have introduced you two. Drama-boy, meet Counter-Girl.”
“No, not really,” I said, half-attentively. We were in the middle of a shopping trip for light bulbs and he was babbling about underwear. I tried not to contemplate the surrealism of the situation.
“My point,” I said. “You don’t want to talk about God; you want to talk about something serious so you can take your mind off how depressed you are. God’s just a good segue. So why don’t we talk about your self-fulfilling delusions, specifically concerning girls?”
Six drinks into the night, Brent could barely sit upright. “I want a tattoo!” he declared.
Oh, yeah. The curse thing. Might as well get to that.
Without all of Brent’s whining and self-deprecation, the story goes something like this: