Bitch Is the New Black by Helena Andrews

Bitch Is the New Black by Helena Andrews

Author:Helena Andrews [Andrews, Helena]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Personal Memoirs, Biography & Autobiography, Biography, Journalists, Women, Anthologies, Autobiography, Biography And Autobiography, Editors, Publishers, Literary essays, Letters & Miscellaneous, Essays, Cultural Heritage, Helena, Andrews
ISBN: 9780061778827
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2010-08-15T04:42:57+00:00


Nine

HELENA ANDREWS HAS THE BEST PUSSY IN THE WORLD

ABORTION MONKEY? Who wouldn’t open that e-mail?

It was the winter of 2004, and my virtual load of junk mail was engorged to the point of needing medical attention. While sifting through spam from Seymour Butts and Mike Hunt to make sure nothing nonpervy got lost in translation, I noticed the most random coupling of nouns capitalized. Abortion and monkey. Not tits and ass or pleasure and her or lottery and winner, but abortion and monkey in all fucking caps. There was also the subject line to consider—“chimp.” My inner pervert had been piqued.

“No wonder your father left you and that dyke,” it read. Wait, what? Was this a telepathic telemarketer? Was I the unlucky member of a new golden demographic? And if so, what exactly was Abortion Monkey hocking—therapy?

The e-mail address didn’t help any: [email protected]. At first it looked like Helenaisastan kape. Never been there. Or maybe Helena I. Sastankape. Don’t know her either. Suddenly settling like a snow globe, I saw it for what it really was—Helenaisastankape. The fuck?

There was only one person in the history of the universe who hated me so much that he’d take time out of his busy schedule of being fucking nuts to come up with a clever alter ego and then set said phantom up with its own e-mail account. Abortion Monkey was his nom de guerre. First name Abortion, last name Monkey.

This was microwaveable abuse. He knew that word would fry my insides. Abortion, abortion, abortion, abortion. No matter how many times I tried to make it toothless, it still gnawed. Had anyone glanced over my shoulder to see it written in all caps? Had they then cracked the code that was “helenaisastankape,” and finally, like Occam, arrived to the so obvious conclusion that at nineteen, with barely a peace sign’s worth of sex partners, I’d had an abortion using the money I got from my student health insurance?

It happened sophomore year, right before falling in love for the first time with Darin (hotmail known as Abortion Monkey).



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