Pee On Water by Rachel B. Glaser

Author:Rachel B. Glaser [Glaser, Rachel B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: prose_contemporary
Publisher: Publishing Genius
Published: 2010-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

THE SAD GIRLFRIEND

She and her analyst spend the nicer part of an afternoon analyzing a “l-o-v-e” stuck on the end of a letter. “Is it hyphenated for emphasis?”

“No, the dashes are sticks in the love. They cut up the word. They spread the love thin across the page. It is a weak love.”

“The hyphens are chains?”

“The hyphens are needles.”

“What if the hyphens are just playful? Maybe they are influenced by hip hop music.”

“They are needles.” A sigh escapes from the air-conditioner. “I am confident they are needles.”

Wednesdays are beginners’ class yoga. She sits in her spot. During a pause, she falls asleep. The others assume she is meditating. They try not to stare. They stretch. The sad girlfriend wakes with a start. She licks the drool on her cheek. “I was just meditating,” she explains loudly. The others nod.

“What did you see?” they whisper. “What did you find out?”

A portrait of a sad girlfriend can find shade in many silhouettes. Trying to cry on the toilet. Struggling with the passenger-side seatbelt. Scowling under the weight of an arm. Growing up, girls ambition to be girlfriends. Birthday candles die for it.

“At first it was black. I could hear you calling out downward dog. I saw numbers and the numbers were in colors. Then I was in a Starbucks, except everything was made of water. The floor was shallow water, the walls were deep. There were different cups and each one held inside it a joke.” A murmur moves across the class. “What kind of joke?” “Did you try the joke?” “Was I in your meditation?” The yoga teacher silences them with a hand movement.

Tim McWilliams eyes his girlfriend through his glasses. Sad again? And over what? Strawberry ice-cream thrown in with the chocolate and vanilla? Can’t a spoon spoon around it? “Strawberry ice cream tastes nothing like strawberries. It is just an unpleasant reminder.” Tim McWilliams has spent a fortune on Blockbuster new releases. Can’t the night recover in the dark?

It can seem that nothing is happening. The clouds do their thing over buildings. The commercials cue up at commercial breaks. A story meanders without any discernible plot. But behind these blinds, a world is breathing breaths on top of breaths already breathed. Brad Pitt is slowly falling out of love and into a new love. Matter into energy, energy into light.

The sad girlfriend paints her nails with polish. She decides to change outfits before the polish has time to dry. It smudges. She does not cry. She wipes the smudged nail on toilet paper and the toilet paper sticks. She uses nail polish remover, which gets her high. Or doesn’t get her high. Or does get her high. She checks gmail. She checks gmail. She checks gmail.

“A Kim Basinger movie made my relationship look boring.” The clock drags its minute hand constant and even.

“What first attracted you to Tim?” The analyst asks, searching her hair for split-ends.

The sad girlfriend waits for the subway pressing her Metrocard to her lips. She walks to the edge of the platform and peers down the tunnel.

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