by Tara Sivec
“Lesson Two: Helping out around the house. Repeat after me, ‘Can I help you with those dishes?’”
“This is never going to work. She’ll know something is up if I say that shit.”
“Say it or you’re never getting laid again!”
“Son of a birthday cake! Can you hear me?” I ask the stereo in confusion.
I let out a sigh and figure I better do what he tells me or he’s going to get really angry. I don’t need self-help guy angry at me or he’ll stop helping me. “Can I help you with those dishes?”
“It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry.”
“Seriously? You expect me to believe that folding laundry will get me laid? Do you even know what you’re talking about?” I ask the stereo.
“I know what I’m doing. Say it.”
Stereo guy is starting to get a little angry. I’m kind of afraid of stereo guy right now. I want to turn him off but I’m scared. He knows where I live.
“It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry,” I say nervously.
“Say it like you mean it, asshole!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry! Really, I will! I LOVE folding laundry!”
“Lesson Three: Helping out with the children. Repeat after me, ‘I’ll get up with, insert name of child here. You go back to sleep.”
“I’ll get up with, insert name of child here. You go back to sleep,” I say quickly so I can stay on stereo guy’s good side. I need to pass this shit or my penis is going to be batting solo forever.
“Why don’t you go for a day at the spa. I’ll take care of the children.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Why don’t you go for a day at the spa. I’ll take care of the children.”
Maybe I judged stereo guy too quickly. I mean he’s just trying to help me. He wants what’s best for me, and what’s best for me is Jenny’s vagina.
“I’m not changing that diaper. I don’t even know if the kid’s mine.”
“I’m not changing that diaper. I don’t even know if the kid’s mine.”
“You fell for it again, douchebag! It’s like you’re not even trying. Why am I wasting my time on you?”
“Dammit! Stop giving me trick questions! You want me to fail, don’t you? I hate you, stereo guy!”
“Don’t get angry at me. My wife still gives it up every day. You’re the one with the problem.”
“I don’t have a problem! YOU have a problem! You live inside a fucking stereo! You’re stupid and your voice is stupid!”
“I’m in your house now. I know where you live and I can see you. Don’t make me angry.”
“Oh no you DIDN’T just say that to me, you piece of shit!”
I get up from the couch and run over to the stereo, pulling it off of the shelf and dropping it to the floor. “Ha! Try helping my self now, asshole!”
“I can still hear you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” I scream as I turn around in circles in the middle of the living room with my arms stretched out from my sides.
I run over to the plastic CD case I threw on the floor earlier and pick it up, checking the back for information about the guy who recorded it. I will not let him terrorize me!
“Oh, ho, ho, Dr. Earl Michaelson! What kind of a British name is that? Wait, Duke of Earl, wasn’t he British? Is this the Duke of Earl? Is the Duke of Earl threatening me? I know who you are and where YOU live now! You messed with the wrong man, Duke of Earl!”
I’m going to call this guy and I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Big talk from a little Duke, stereo man!”
I pull out my cell phone and look up this guy’s information on Google. Oh, Google, how I love thee. A phone number for the whole world to call. Don’t mind if I do. I dial the number and wait for someone to answer.
“Is the Duke of Earl there? I don’t know, like the song. ‘Duke, Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl, Earl, Earl. Shut up! I have a GREAT singing voice!”
I pull the phone away from my ear when I hear the dial tone.
“Stupid Duke of Earl. You need to hire better help to answer your phones,” I mutter as I hit redial.
“Yes, is Doctor Earl there?” I say, making my voice deeper. “I don’t care if he’s with a patient, put him on the damn phone! Don’t you dare hang up on me! Shit!”
I hit redial again, clearing my throat and preparing a different voice. “Is Dr. Earl there? This is his mother,” I say in a high pitched female voice. “Oh, his mother’s dead? Probably because he killed her with his awful advice! Put him on the phone!”
Dial tone again. What is wrong with these people?
“We’re not done with our lesson yet, dickwad.”
“I’m not a dickwad, YOU’RE A DICKWAD!” I yell to the broken stereo on the ground. How the fuck is he still talking to me? This is like the movie ‘Chuckie’. That damn doll just wouldn’t die. How the hell do you kill a CD that won’t die?
I call the number again and try a different tactic. “Yes, this is Punjab from Czechoslovakia. Dr. Earl ordered something from us and I need to speak to him right away. What do you mean Czechoslovakia doesn’t exist anymore? When the fuck did that happen? Wow, 1992, seriously? I probably should have learned that in school, huh. No kidding? But it’s still there, right? It didn’t like, blow up or something? Interesting. No, no message.”
I hang up the phone and realize I was fooled again. Like they would really just get rid of some place called Czechoslovakia. What would they do with all the Checkians? I wasn’t born yesterday, I know when someone is pulling my leg.
Since calling the Duke and telling him off isn’t going to work, I’ll just send him an email. I pull up Gmail on my phone and type in his email address that I found on Google.
Dear Dr. Duke of Earl Dick Fuck,
You are going down, buddy. I will make you pay for this…
~
“Yes, officer. I understand. No, I promise there won’t be any more trouble. Tell Dr. Michaelson and his family we’re very sorry for scaring him. Just send me the bill for his hotel stay.”
Jenny closes our front door and turns around to look at me without saying a word.
“Can I just expl-”
“Oh, I think you’ve done plenty of talking today,” she cuts me off. “Really, Drew? Threatening a psychiatrist and his family? He took his wife and kids to a hotel because they feared for their lives.”
Jenny walks away from the door and starts picking up pieces of the mangled stereo on the living room floor. I may have got a little too excited in my need to destroy it. There were pieces that flew all the way into the kitchen when I stomped on it repeatedly. According to all horror movies, you have to dismantle the pieces and spread them out away from each other so they can’t get back together and form an even scarier monster that will hunt you down and kill you. I was protecting my family!
“Oh please, like fleeing from his house was really necessary,” I explain as I help her pick up plastic pieces.
“You told him you were going to sneak into his house and watch him while he slept.”
It turns out the CD I bought was a fake. Some disgruntled employee who worked at the online store I had bought it from replaced a bunch of self-help CDs with one he made at home. Dr. Earl wasn’t the only one whose CDs had been replaced. There had been about a hundred other self-help people out there that it happened to as well. Oops.
“Why would you even buy a self-help CD in the first place?” she asks as she gets up and takes a pile of pieces into the kitchen to dump them in the garbage.
I stare at her ass as she walks away and try to remember the last time I had my hands on her ass.
“You look very beautiful today. Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll take care of them,” I tell her as I dump my own pile of pieces into the garbage can after she does.
“What are you t
alking about? We have a dishwasher,” she says with a shake of her head as she leaves the kitchen.
“It’s okay, honey! I’ll fold the laundry,” I yell to her retreating back.
“I folded the laundry yesterday,” she shouts back angrily.
“Fuck you, Dr. Earl. And fake Dr. Earl who recorded fake CDs,” I grumble to myself as I turn the lights out in the kitchen and follow Jenny upstairs to see if I’ll be allowed to sleep in bed tonight. I’m going to go with no, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.
I get to the top of the stairs and my pillow and a blanket are already in the hall, next to our closed bedroom door. With a sigh, I pick up my things and head back downstairs.
I curl up on the couch and pull up the porn app on my phone. “At least I still have you, little buddy.”
A few seconds later, a message pops up on my screen that says, “The porn app site is temporarily down for service. Please try back later.”
Oh my God, even porn doesn’t want me to have any satisfaction.
The universe obviously hates me.
Chapter 16 – VAGINA!
“The cops were at our house for two hours questioning Drew. It was so embarrassing. I’m sure all of the neighbors saw the police car in our driveway,” I complain to Liz as I add a new blog post to her store’s website.
“Right. Like THAT is the most mortifying thing your neighbors have ever seen in your driveway,” she replies as she uses a knife to slice through the tape on top of one of the boxes of inventory that was just delivered.
“That Halloween two years ago was an accident. I didn’t realize body paint was flammable, and Drew got a little too close to the jack-o-lanterns we carved,” I explain as I turn around in the computer chair to help Liz remove some of the items from the box.
“Drew stopped, dropped, and rolled naked in your neighbor’s front yard. Didn’t he catch their maple tree on fire?”
I pull out three packages of piña colada lube and set them off to the side. “It was a small maple tree. Not a big one. And the fire was out quickly. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
Liz pushes the empty box away and pulls up another one and cuts it open.
“I think it’s a big deal when you’re both standing in your neighbor’s front yard with nothing on but glitter body paint,” Liz says with a laugh.
“Still, I can’t believe he threatened someone. And a psychiatric person at that. Like the guy doesn’t have enough problems being crazy? Now he has my husband to worry about. What if Drew sending him that email pushed him over the edge and he goes on a killing spree or something?”
“He is a psychiatrist, not a psychiatric person. He’s not crazy; he helps crazy people. It sounds like Drew should be his patient,” Liz deadpans.
“He was listening to a self-help CD. Did I tell you that part? It was called: How to Bring the Spark Back to Your Marriage. We’ve lost our spark,” I sob.
“I love you, but don’t cry. I will punch you in the face if you cry. I don’t do criers. You have not lost your spark. It’s just…temporarily on vacation,” she explains as she unpacks the box.
“Why the hell did it go on vacation? I never said it could go on vacation! I need my spark, Liz. You don’t understand. I need my spark to live!” I wail.
“It sounded to me like you found quite the spark at the vibrator race,” Liz laughs. “You got a standing ovation during the awards ceremony. People have been asking me where they can buy the video.”
“Well, we’re already under contract with the company we entered the home movie contest with so I’d have to check with them and see. It might be a conflict of incest,” I tell her.
“Jenny. For the love of God, think before you speak. Just say what you want to say in your head first before you open your mouth,” Liz tells me seriously.
“What? Incest means that you’re related, right? Drew and I are related.”
Liz stops unpacking the box and stares at me in horror.
“What. The. Fuck?”
I roll my eyes at her and take the package of Jack Rabbits out of her hand. “Um, hello? We’re husband and wife. So we’re related. And you think I’m dumb.”
Liz puts her head in her hands and whimpers to herself. I lean over and pat her on the back in sympathy. “It’s okay, things confuse me sometimes too.”
“What should I do, Liz? I tried the faking it thing, and I thought that worked, but the next two times I suggested doing it again he said no. He actually turned me down! He says he misses my vagina but I think he’s lying. I used to have such an awesome vagina. What if it’s not awesome anymore? I need a second opinion. Liz, look at my vagina.”
Liz stands up from the box and starts backing away.
“Take it back,” she states.
“No, really, I think this is what I need. I need someone who will be honest with me. Look at my vagina,” I tell her as I start unbuttoning my jeans.
Liz throws her hands up in the air and bumps into a shelf against the wall, vibrators and lube falling to the ground. “Back away, Jenny. Just back away and no one will get hurt.”
I get my pants unzipped and push them down to the middle of my thighs.
Good thing I wore my good underwear today.
“Just one look, that’s all I’m asking. Just look at my vagina and tell me if it still looks okay or if it’s a hot mess,” I plead.
“Oh my God, my eyes, MY EYES!” Liz yells, covering her face with her hands.
“Liz, LOOK AT MY VAGINA!” I shout as I hobble closer to her and my jeans slide down to my knees. “I AM NOT LEAVING HERE UNTIL YOU LOOK AT MY VAGINA!”
I hear a gasp and turn around to see Jim standing in the doorway staring at us. I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. “Move along, Jim. There’s nothing to see here.”
He shakes his head back and forth, his eyes never blinking as he looks from me to Liz and then back again.
“I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he whispers. “I’ve prayed, I’ve wished on stars, I’ve wished on pennies in wishing wells…my prayers have been answered. God is good.”
Liz huffs and walks around behind me, grabbing onto my jeans and yanking them back up over my ass.
“Nooooooo,” Jim whimpers. “They’re supposed to go the other way.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, close your mouth. Turn around, walk out of this room right now, and never speak of this again,” Liz warns him as I button and zip my jeans.
“My dreams…shattering right before my eyes,” Jim says with a sad sigh as he turns and leaves.
Liz comes around in front of me and grabs my shoulders. “You are fine, your vagina is fine, and you are going to forget all about this shit and come with me and Claire to the Blossom Music Festival this weekend.”
I start to shake my head ‘No’ and she puts her hand over my mouth when I open it to protest. “You are coming with us. End of story. We’ll have a girl’s night, drink a lot of beer, listen to '80s cover bands and find your spark. I’m sure it will be at the bottom of the third cup of beer. And if you ever ask me to look at your vagina again, I will punch you in the uterus.”
~
“Pretty please? Say it again. Just one more time!” Claire tells the woman we just met standing in line for beer.
The woman laughs and says, “Put another shrimp on the Barbie!”
Liz, Claire, and I laugh hysterically and jump up and down with excitement. I’m not really sure if it’s the beer that makes this funny or if it really is funny. The woman in front of us is from Australia and we’ve spent our fifteen minutes in line getting her to say Australian things.
“Okay, okay, I’ve got one. Say, ‘Fosters. Australian for beer,’” Claire says with a snort.
The woman laughs and does as she’s asked without complaint.
“Oh my God I love you! You are our new best friend!” Claire tells her.
“Oooh, my turn!” I say excitedly as I finally think of something for her to say. “Say, ‘Sucky, sucky, five dolla. Me love you long
time!’”
Everyone just looks at me funny. “What?”
“That’s not Australian, dumbass. I don’t even know what the fuck that is!” Liz says with a laugh.
We order our beers and make our way over to the smoking section just outside of the fence to go back into the concert. We’ve spent the majority of the concert out here drinking instead of trying to navigate through the crowd to get to our seats inside. Since the music is so loud, we can hear it just fine out here anyway.
“HEY!” I yell to a group of guys walking by our picnic table. “LOOK AT MY VAGINA!”
Claire smacks my hand down from making a ‘V’ with two of my fingers. “What the hell are you doing?!”
I scope out the crowd for more people who look willing and able.
“VAGINA!” I shout to a couple walking hand-in-hand to the table next to us. They immediately turn and head in another direction.
“Oh sweet Jesus, she’s lost her mind,” I hear Liz tell Claire. “She thinks something is wrong with her vagina. She tried to get me to look at it the other day.”
There’s a guy all by himself two tables over. I bet he’d appreciate the vagina. This beer is delicious.
“Wait, is that why Jim called Carter and was screaming about his dreams dying and how he never gets what he wants? Carter could barely understand a word he was saying.”
I take a big gulp of my drink and slam the cup down on top of the table.
“HEY! VAGINA!” I yell to the guy by himself at the other table.
He looks at me strangely for a minute and then replies, “Uh, penis?”
“WOOOOOOHOOOOOO!” I cheer, jumping up out of my seat and attempting to do the running man. It doesn’t go so well and I fall flat on my ass.
“Who put the ground so fucking close to my ASS?!” I yell.
“Okay, I think she’s cut off,” Claire says as she gets up from the table and pulls me up by my arms.
“Claire, will you look at my vagina?” I ask her as I put my head on her shoulder.
“What is the deal with you and vagina? Is this your new favorite word or something?” Claire asks as she helps me back to the table.