by Nikita Singh
– Which must have been like a dress on you!
– It was rather big, yeah, and I’d hold it to my face and I’d sniff, because he used this really nice cologne and the T-shirt still smelt a little bit of him, and this would be like, what? Three in the morning? And then by four, I’d be hungry, so I’d make Maggi noodles or something, and I’d sit there, in this T-shirt, eating Maggi noodles and feeling like a pathetic loser.
– Then what happened?
– Then? My maid found it and washed it, and the smell was gone.
– You never told me you did that.
– Yes, well, you were in your Abhi bubble, and no one likes to hear their friend’s sad stories when they’re in their happy place.
– I would’ve listened.
– I know you would have. I just, I just felt like holding on to the sorrow for myself for a while.
– I get that.
– Do you?
– Yeah, because, the pain, it’s not great, but it’s still ours, you know? It belongs to us, me and Abhi, and it’s the last bit I’ll ever have of us together.
– Wow, we’re morbid.
– I know.
– Morbid bitches.
– I know!
– You do realise, right, that neither Fat Mayank nor Abhi are sitting around sniffing our T-shirts or playing our music?
– They’re still stalking us on Facebook though.
– Oh totally.
– What did we do before Facebook?
– We depended on the not-so-authentic news reports of our friends.
– Oh my God, remember Jasleen?
– That girl had issues.
– Remember how when we broke up with—what were their names?
– Farad and Hiten.
– Farad and Hiten. Yes. And then she came up to us the next day and she told us she had seen both of them at her local park hooking up with two new girls?
– And we bought it.
– Even though her local park was like miles away from where they actually lived.
– Why were we dating them?
– Because they were best friends, and we were best friends, and it just made everything so convenient.
– Ah yes, convenience. That all-important factor for romance.
– It just made things easier though. One car. One date. Our parents were cool knowing we were out with each other.
– Did you and Hiten ever…?
– Once. When we went to watch The Matrix. He put his hand on my boob.
– Wow. You slut.
– Quite. Did you and Farad?
– He kissed really badly. Like, his tongue was everywhere at once.
– Ew.
– I know. It was like making out with an octopus.
– Ewwww.
– Well, you asked.
– At least his bad kissing made it easy for you to break up with him, making it that much easier for me to end things with ol’ Hiten.
– Are you kidding? Bad kisser or not, he dumped me.
– No!
– He totally did. One day, I think we all had just gone for dinner, and before we got into the car, Farad took me aside and said, ‘Anushka, ya, I’m really sorry, ya, but like, I don’t want to be your boyfriend anymore.’
– What an asshole!
– I was a bit relieved, to tell the truth. But my dainty little ego was all crushed, so I took that to mean I really liked him.
– What did you do?
– Well, I asked him why, and he said there was someone else.
– Someone else? Who else would date him?
– His neighbour, apparently. She’d been giving him the come-on for a while, and once he was sure he’d never make it below my neck, he decided to cut his losses.
– Well, Hiten and I never knew.
– Hiten liked you.
– I liked him too, but you know, half the fun was us all dating together.
– You make us sound like a commune.
– It was a little bit, except really sexless.
– Imagine a foursome with those two.
– Oh God.
– I’m sorry!
– Oh. God.
– I’m really sorry, I don’t know what made me say it.
– Now I have mental images.
– If it makes you feel any better, so do I.
– I wonder what their penises would look like.
– Maya!
– What? Don’t tell me you never thought about it.
– May I remind you, while you were getting all that boob groping action, I was still a good girl, sitting with my legs crossed.
– Still, I mean, think about it. When you think of a guy, if you know what he’s like as a person, it’s pretty easy to imagine his penis.
– You think?
– Oh sure. I’m pretty sure I can come up with an accurate image of the member of every single man we know.
– All right. Let’s try it. What do you think Hiten’s would look like?
– Sort of…skinny?
– Pencil-like?
– Oh God, those are the worst! It’s like fiddling about in you.
– Like a cocktail stirrer? Men don’t get that it’s not all about the length, it’s mostly the girth.
– Sometimes length is important too, I mean, I bet Farad’s would be like, the opposite. He’d have a teeny weenie.
– Like a cocktail sausage.
– Do you want a drink or something? Only, that’s the second time you’ve used the cocktail imagery vis-a-vis the penis.
– I’d love a drink. But I’m liking this game.
– There’s only one way to tell if I’m right though.
– What’s that?
– You’re not going to like it.
– Oh, go on.
– I’m going to have to imagine Fat Mayank’s penis.
– Like you haven’t before.
– I restrained myself. Massive restraint.
– Okay.
– Really? No take-backs?
– Nope. Hit me. What do you think Fat Mayank’s penis would look like?
– Fat. And squirmy. And pale. Like a maggot.
– Wrong!
– Really?
– You really are a size-ist. Why do you think I was with him for so long?
– Rea-lleeee?
– Oh yeah. Beautiful craftsmanship.
– No kidding. Huh. Go, Fat Mayank!
– What was Abhi’s like, then?
– Nush!
– Come on, you got to guess mine.
– I refuse to discuss Abhi’s penis.
– Big? Small? Short? Fat?
– Well…
– Oh my God, it wasn’t nice, was it?
– There are more things you can do in bed besides the plain old p in v, you know.
– I know, but here you were being all judgy, and there he was, Mr Short…
– It wasn’t terrible!
– You poor thing.
– I still feel kinda disloyal discussing things like that.
– Why? You’re done with the guy. Best time to bring forth all his inadequacies.
– It was private stuff, you know?
– You made me discuss Fat Mayank.
– Yes, but Abhi and I, we were different.
– Why? Because he was skinny?
– No! Well, yeah. I mean, we had something. We were together for a year.
– Semantics, darling.
– And I shouldn’t have discussed Fat Mayank’s thing either. That wasn’t nice.
– No, it wasn’t.
– I’m sorry.
– ’Sokay. He was an asshole.
– So was Abhi.
– Wow.
– What?
– That’s the first time you admitted something was wrong with your precious Abhi.
– Haven’t I said before?
– Nope. Definitely not. Each time I try to tell you what a jerk he wa
s, you get all defensive.
– Do I? I hadn’t noticed.
– Yes, you do. Come on, let it all out. What was his absolutely worst trait?
– I don’t know.
– Yes, you do! Spill. It’ll make you feel so much better.
– He…didn’t like watching any movies that I liked.
– You can do much better than that.
– He cut his toenails in bed!
– Better, keep going.
– He didn’t wash his underwear for days.
– Now we’re getting somewhere!
– And, he was totally selfish in bed. When I got my period, it was like blow job week for him.
– You’ve never had period sex?
– No, I always thought it was icky.
– You’re missing out on so much.
– But the blood.
– There’s blood. It’s sex. Things get messy. But it’s still hot.
– I don’t like the idea of it.
– Promise me you’ll give it a shot though. With the next guy.
– If there ever is a next guy.
– Are we on that again?
– It’s a perfectly justified fear. I’m not getting any younger, meanwhile, there are hundreds of girls turning eighteen every day, who are all clear skinned and tight bodied.
– Sometimes men like more than just firm breasts, you know.
– A) who are these men? I’d like to meet them and B) are you saying my breasts are saggy?
– You’re the one who went on about eighteen-year-olds and their tight bodies.
– My breasts are not saggy.
– Of course they’re not. You’re only twenty-six.
– I did the toothbrush test on them theother day, and the toothbrush didn’t stay.
– The toothbrush test?
– Yes, have you never tried it? You put your arms above your head, like this, and you put a toothbrush under your breast and if it stays, you’re saggy.
– Does it have to be a toothbrush?
– No, I used a pen, but classically, traditionally, it’s a toothbrush.
– I wonder why.
– I guess something to do with the shape? Toothbrushes have that shape, you know?
– Contoured.
– Yes, contoured! Clever girl.
– This is why you should watch more TV. Toothbrush ads are full of ‘contoured’ and ‘bendy tops’.
– Do they actually say ‘bendy tops’? Makes them sound like a sex toy.
– I think they say ‘flexible heads.’
– Which is worse!
– Well, the people in the ads always look so happy, there must be a reason.
– So, do you think it says something about me that the batteries of my vibrator finish in like a week, but I charge my electric toothbrush only once every two weeks?
– Yes.
– What?
– That you need to spend less time with your vibrator and more time out in the world, for which you’ll need to brush your teeth.
– My vibrator is the only man that understands me.
– Because he doesn’t talk?
– Because he gets straight to the point. You know that movie Inception?
– The one where Leonardo DiCaprio keeps entering people’s dreams?
– Yeah, and there’s often another dream within the dream?
– What about it?
– Well, with my vibrator, it’s like the Inception of orgasms.
– I sense you want me to ask how so, so I’ll indulge you.
– Because…because, it keeps building them up and stacking them!
– Wow.
– I know, right?
– I need to get a vibrator.
– They’re illegal in India.
– Yes, I know. I never understood why.
– Because Indian men don’t like Indian women to have any pleasure.
– You are on a roll today!
– I had to sneak mine in from the US in my hand baggage.
– Did they see it?
– Yeah, they asked me what it was.
– What did you say?
– Well, I was holding this sparkly white thing shaped like a penis with all these fancy buttons and a remote, I said the only thing that came to me.
– Which was?
– Uncle, it’s a neck massager.
– And he bought it?
– I think he was as embarrassed as I was. And the couple behind me kept giggling, so it was very hard.
– Must have been a traumatic time for you.
– Luckily, he rolled his eyes and waved me on.
– I thought it was illegal?
– I think just their sale is illegal; you can have them for your own consumption.
– Like pot.
– I’m pretty sure possessing pot is illegal too.
– Even if it’s just for you?
– Even then, it’s like, a drug, no?
– So’s booze.
– Yeah, but that’s legal.
– So, you’re saying, if it’s legal, it’s allowed?
– Don’t get all pot fundamentalist on me, I didn’t make the rules.
– I’m just amazed you dated Abhi, who walks around in an aura of marijuana all day, like a mushroom cloud of grass, and didn’t smoke a single joint.
– It’s not my thing.
– Have you ever noticed how all your exes are pot smokers?
– Are they?
– Yes, I think you have a type.
– But I don’t smoke.
– You smoke.
– I mean smoke-smoke.
– Ah. The old Mary Jane.
– I always thought Mary Jane was such a pretty name. It reminds me of Enid Blyton. Wasn’t there a doll called Mary Jane?
– Amelia Jane.
– Amelia Jane! And she was naughty again.
– She was always naughty. Poor Amelia.
– And those oppressive toys. They never let her do what she wanted to, because she was a girl.
– Same with Famous Five. Julian and Dick used to do all the cool stuff and leave George and Ann behind because they were girls.
– I always felt for George.
– Me too! People kept telling her to be a sport or buck up or stop sulking, when really, she was just trying to establish her gender confused identity.
– You think she grew up to be a lesbian?
– Just because she was a tomboy? I don’t think so. I was a tomboy.
– She wasn’t just a tomboy though; she really, truly thought she was a boy, in a girl’s body.
– Gender confusion, like I said.
– If she had been born today, she might have saved for a sex change operation.
– So, you know when boys turn into girls, they fashion them a clitoris out of the penis, right? What do they do for girls?
– I never thought about that. I guess they take some extra skin?
– Yes, but penis-as-clitoris works, because you know, they both give pleasure, but how do girls who turn into boys get boners?
– I don’t think that many girls turn into boys.
– Well, I read this news story the other day, about this man who was born a woman, and he had a sex change operation, and he met a lovely woman and married her, only she couldn’t have any children, so, he carried them, because they had left his uterus inside.
– Weird.
– I know! And you should’ve seen the photos, there’s this guy with a beard and he’s pregnant.
– Whose sperm did they use?
– Not his.
– I’m telling you, they probably don’t have the equipment for it.
– All babies start out as girls though, and then after a bit, the chromosome decides whether it’s an innie or an outie.
– That’s why they say we’re all a little bit bisexual.
– I don’t know. I’ve never been attracted to women.
– I h
ave.
– Really? Who?
– Oh, this girl I met at a party.
– And?
– And nothing. She was pretty, she wrapped her arms around me, we were both very drunk, and someone yelled ‘kiss!’ so we did.
– Oh, you were one of those girls.
– Which girls?
– The kind that hooks up with other girls to titillate men.
– That’s a thing?
– Yes, it’s a thing.
– Well, it wasn’t. It was a very sweet kiss.
– Did you feel anything?
– You mean, arousal? No, not really.
– So then you weren’t really attracted to her.
– I found her attractive.
– That’s very different. I find that dog attractive. I find that bench attractive. I wouldn’t necessarily have sex with either of them.
– That’s a thing too.
– Dog and bench threesomes?
– Hah. No. People who find objects attractive. There was a woman who married the Eiffel Tower.
– Oh, I think I read about that. And another woman who loved a fence.
– I don’t think that’s true.
– It is! I read it! She took the fence home and shared a bed with it and everything.
– You are so making this up.
– You’re being size-ist again. You can imagine someone marrying the Eiffel Tower but not a fence?
– I can understand someone marrying the Eiffel Tower, it’s gorgeous, it’s a symbol and in your head, you know you’re not really married to it, but what it represents to you.
– A fence could be just as sexy as the Eiffel Tower.
– Is this about Fat Mayank again?
– I’m just saying. A fence requires a lot of architecture. All that wood, and how you stack it, and there are so many different kinds of fences. It may not be the Eiffel Tower, but however humble, it has beauty.
– Look, I’m sure Fat Mayank was a lovely boyfriend.
– This is not about Fat Mayank! This is about how you need to learn to accept that other things, things that don’t match the grand ideal in your head about What Stuff Should Look Like, For You To Fall In Love With It, also exist.
– Wow.
– I’m sorry, it just needed to be said.
– I could feel the capital letters in that sentence.
– Well, I was imagining them too.
– Do I do that?
– Of course you do! You have these impossible ideals, oh my perfect boyfriend will look like something out of a magazine ad, he will do the crossword with me and we will have a Labrador and go boating!
– Okay, first of all, I get seasick, and second of all, what’s wrong with someone wanting to do the crossword?