Bream Gives Me Hiccups

by Jesse Eisenberg

  Here is what happened:

  Okay, so yesterday I was in a macroeconomics class. It’s a morning class and I’m usually really tired during it so I’m not always paying full attention. Also, it’s a lecture class, which is super boring and taught by this tiny Indian woman with a full Indian accent3 who has ZERO sense of humor.

  So we were talking about something that didn’t make any sense, which was having to choose between guns and butter in an economy.4 So she asked us, if we were running the country, what would we choose and why. So I raised my hand and said, “I would choose guns because, if you have guns, you can invade the people who have the butter and take it from them.”

  And the professor woman kind of smiled, like I was making a joke or something,5 and then said, “Anybody else?”

  And then this kid who’s usually pretty quiet raised his hand and the Indian woman said, “Yes, Ryan?”

  And he goes, “I think Harper makes a good point actually. If you have weapons, it gives you control over resources, even if it means taking them by force.”

  And then the Indian woman smiled at Ryan and said, “Harper and Ryan make a good team, class. Their point is not without historical precedence actually.”

  And then she continued talking about guns and butter so I do what I normally do, which is tune her out and think about literally anything else.6

  And something really strange happened to me, Miss Rita. I started dreaming about this boy. This Ryan boy.

  I thought, “Maybe we are a good team.” I’ve never actually looked at him before, but now that we were a team, I really started to notice how great he is.7

  And then my mind just started to go crazy, Miss Rita. The class was two hours and I think I totally spaced for the whole rest of the class, just dreaming about my teammate Ryan.

  And my vagina started like tingling! I was like, “Whoa down there! Didn’t realize you did that!” I thought I would maybe start peeing, but it felt so good, like electricity running through my body from my vag to my heart!

  I just couldn’t stop staring at Ryan, who turned into this like beautiful perfect creature to me!

  And, Miss Rita, sitting there in class, I worked out our whole lives together!8

  First Date:

  It would be romantic but would NOT end with too much physical activity.9 I would be coquettish10 and we would go to an Italian restaurant like Romano’s Macaroni Grill11 and I would order something sensible like salmon, which is easy to eat on a date because it doesn’t have any sauce and it’s not pasta, which you CANNOT eat on a date because it’s impossible and makes your mouth look stupid and has sauce. Ryan would probably get the steak cause he’s such a guy. And then he would drive me home and, before I got out of the car, he would put his hand on the back of my neck and it would feel so nice and I would know what was coming next.

  And he would lean in12 and I would let him kiss me once on the lips. A light, crisp kiss. And he would say, “I had a great time, Harper,” and I would just smile. I wouldn’t say anything! I wouldn’t say “I did too.” I would just smile and maybe bite my bottom lip coquettishly to keep him wondering, “Did she have a good time? Does she like me? Who is she??”

  Second Date:

  Ryan would invite me to hang out with his friends at his house.13 It will be a Sunday afternoon. And I would sit on the couch while the guys played video games and drank Pabst.14 And at some point, Ry-Ry would sneak his sweet little hand into mine. And we’d interlace our fingers, and when one of the roommates made a dumb joke, Ryan would look at me and secretly roll his eyes and I’d secretly roll my eyes too. And then he’d ask if I wanted to go for a little walk and we would walk outside, still holding hands and feeling so special because the friends would still be playing video games and they’d be thinking that me and Ryan were so cool because we had a secret relationship where we sneak out for walks together. Then Ryan would say something like, “I really like you.” And this time, I would answer him back. I would say, “I like you too, Ryan.”15

  And then, after we took the walk, we would head back into the house and walk right past his friends and go upstairs to his bedroom. My heart would be racing so fast because I’d know what would be coming. He would hold my waist and lean in and kiss me. And then we would fall onto the bed and we would be making out. And it would be SO nice. And then I would let him grab my breast16 but OVER my clothes. And then he would try to put his hand UNDER my shirt and I would say, “Maybe next time, mister.”17

  Third Date:

  The third date wouldn’t even be a date, Miss Rita. It would just be a farewell party. To my virginity!!! Sayonara Sucker! I would let Ryan have it. Own it. It would be his. The way it would work is that Ryan would text me late one night:

  RYAN: What r u doin?

  ME: Nothin. Just chillin.

  RYAN: Wanna come over?

  ME: Sure.

  It would be SO romantic, Miss Rita. I would sneak out of the dorm, past Slutnick, past the clueless night guards, and run to Ryan’s house. As I approach, I would notice a single light on in the upstairs bedroom, where Ryan would be waiting, having already showered.

  I would throw a pebble at his window. He would come down and without talking18 we would hold hands as we walked up to his bedroom. And there, we would start making out on his bed. And he would immediately put his hand up my shirt19 and he would kiss every part of me, Miss Rita!

  And while Ryan was lying on top of me, he would breathlessly ask, “Is it okay if I enter you Harper?” And I would say, also breathlessly, “Access granted, Ryan.”

  And then he would fuck me, in and out of me, so nicely for hours until I bled all over his bed, but he wouldn’t care and we would do laundry together the next day and scrub out my hymen together.

  And after a few weeks of Ryan and I dating and spending every day together, I would tell him that I haven’t gotten my period in a while and I’m wondering if everything is okay. And Ryan would just take my hand and say, “Harper, I did this on purpose. I want to start a family with you!”

  And then we would move in together. I would ditch Slutnick and Ryan would ditch his dumb roommates and we would find a nice place off campus to raise our children. And after we graduate, I would stay home with the kids and Ryan would work his way up the corporate ladder.20

  Oh, Miss Rita, it would be wonderful! My life would be complete!

  If only it were true. What really happened was this:

  After class, I walked up to him21 and said,

  ME: Hey, Ryan.

  RYAN: (looking like he might not know who I am) Hey . . . (clearly can’t remember my name)

  ME: Harper . . .

  RYAN: Right. Harper.

  ME: Are you doing anything after class?

  RYAN: You mean now?

  ME: Well, yeah, I guess. (I laugh coquettishly) I guess that is now.

  RYAN: I gotta pick my girlfriend up from work. Why?

  ME: Oh, nothing. Have a good day. Bye. (walks away)

  END OF SCENE.22

  Oh, Miss RIIIIITTTTTTAAAAAA! I felt like such a fool! What was I thinking? I was so embarrassed. I don’t know what was going through my mind. He didn’t even remember my name, Miss Rita! I was nothing to him. Nothing. And he had a girlfriend!

  I was at the lowest moment of my entire life, Miss Rita. I just wished I was dead. Like literally dead though. Like inside-a-coffin-rotting-away-from-a-disease dead.

  And just as I thought I would have to go home and kill myself, something washed over me. A weird, new feeling.

  As Ryan walked away, I started to realize that I didn’t want to be with him anyway.23

  I started noticing all this other stuff about him that made me so relieved to not be with him anymore. First of all, he dresses like a fucking hobo teenager—his pants were loose and sagging around his waist.24 And his hairline was actually receding25 so he put gel in his hair and slicked it forward. Who are you kidding, Ryan? You’re going to be a bald fuckface who will probably also get really fat be
cause once you’re bald you’re already too ugly to get fucked so you may as well fuck food for a living and get really fucking chubs.

  I can’t believe I almost threw it all away for that. My precious virginity for that fat douchebag bald garbage can man.

  And his girlfriend “works”? How old is she? She’s probably like sixty years old, like a fucking granny, in huge panties who’s fucked so many guys in her long life as an old hippie with white person dreadlocks and armpit hair. And Ryan probably has STDs all over his stupid dick. And I should probably warn his girlfriend, but she probably already knows because she’s the whore who gave him the STDs in the first place. “Gotta pick my girlfriend up from work.” Probably means he’s going to a brothel.26

  Once I realized how shitty Ryan was as a life partner, I felt SO much better. My whole body relaxed and I actually thought I was so lucky to have gone through our whole life together because it made me realize how AWFUL it would actually be to share it with “Ryan.”

  Because the truth is, Miss Rita, some people are destined to be alone forever because they’re too disgusting for anyone to actually fall in love with them, but I am destined to be alone forever because I’m too unique and independent minded.27

  Miss Rita, I guess this is what they call growth.28 I finally realize who I am.

  I am a woman.

  Hear me roar.29

  In solidarity,

  Harper Jablonski30

  1. Unless that fairy tale is “Little Red Riding Hood,” because essentially I was eaten by a wolf.

  2. I know it’s wrong to disagree with a major quotation, but, Miss Rita, listen to what happened to me and then decide.

  3. As if macroeconomics wasn’t already hard enough to understand.

  4. Sorry if I’m putting you to sleep already, Miss R.

  5. Which I wasn’t. And which I still think is a good idea.

  6. Sorry if this sounds irresponsible but I’m taking this class pass/fail cause I knew I wouldn’t do well in it.

  7. Okay, it’s important for me to tell you that I still have not had a boyfriend, Miss Rita. You probably remember that, in junior year, I was a virgin? Well, guess what? Still a card-carrying member. ;) I don’t know why, I’m sure I could have lost it a million times but I just never did. I actually never even really kissed a boy except one time, in seventh grade, when this asshole Russian kid named Alexey chased me around the school parking lot and kissed me on the head. But that felt more like an attack than a kiss. :(And then he said something in Russian, which is an ugly-sounding language, and then he laughed a little, which also sounded ugly.

  8. Please don’t think I’m totally crazy.

  9. I’m not a prude, Miss Rita, but guys get grossed out when you do too much on the first date.

  10. Which means flirty but not slutty.

  11. There are two in St. Louis. One is a shithole and the other one’s decent. We would go to the decent one. Obviously.

  12. I would stay totally still though, so I don’t look like a ho-bag.

  13. He probably lives off campus in a dingy house with a few other guys.

  14. They’re SO typical. But it’s cute, you know?

  15. I wouldn’t say “I really like you” though. Because I still need to hold on to some of my mystique. Otherwise, I’m just another two-bit slut, which Ryan could find anywhere.

  16. Guys are obsessed with grabbing breasts apparently.

  17. How great is that???

  18. Nothing else needs to be said.

  19. And I would LET him this time. A promise is a promise.

  20. I know what you’re thinking—this is not 1950, Harper. But, Miss Rita, I’m a traditionalist. I want a traditional life with Ryan. I don’t care that it’s not empowering or whatever. I want a regular, run-of-the-mill American thing with him. Yes, I want the white picket fence! Yes, I want the 2.5 kids! And yes, I want the SUV and the washer/dryer and gravy on my Thanksgiving turkey! I don’t care if that makes me old-fashioned. I want our children to know their mother, I want Ryan to feel complete and accomplished in the workplace. Sorry, Gloria Steinman. Sorry. :(

  21. In my mind, we were already married, so I probably looked really weird to him. Like my face probably looked like a housewife, running out to meet her longtime husband, and his face probably looked like a kid coming out of an economics class being approached by a crazed stranger.

  22. And End of Life! Just like that, my life ended. Everything. My butter turned into a gun!

  23. And that I dodged a major bullet.

  24. I guess he bought them from a time machine store!

  25. Hahahahaha!!! He’s gonna be so bald!

  26. Because his girlfriend is most likely a whore.

  27. And I don’t need a man to complete me. Sorry, boys. But I am fine on my own. I know who I am and what I need and I’m sorry if that scares people away. My fierce independence. My strong willpower. I’m going to be a strong single female like Eleanor Roosevelt or Janis Joplin. I will live alone, not like a dyke with a buzz cut and bad breath, but like a beautiful woman who owns her body. I don’t need a man to tell me what I can and can’t do. Especially a fucking old-fashioned, stuck-in-a-time-warp brute like Ryan.

  28. The good kind. Not the fat kind.

  29. Not literally. That’d be gross. ;)

  30. You can bet I will never change my name! Not even hyphenating it. I will make no phallic compromises!

  October 18

  Dear Miss Rita,

  Sometimes, things seem fucking awful, but if you look at them a different way, they’re actually not.1

  I had a really weird night this week that made me think a lot about my life and my parents and what I want to be when I get older.2

  Okay, here’s what happened:

  Slutnick and I don’t have class on Wednesday3 so we were just hanging out in our room4 and Slutnick was showing me the grossest video of a snake eating a whole crocodile. It was so disgusting, but I couldn’t stop watching it.

  And just before the end of the video, there was a knock on the door. It was kind of a silly knock, like the one where you knock a few times in a funny beat and wait for the other person to finish the beat.

  And SN opened the door and two old fugly people were standing there, grinning like idiots. And Slutnick squealed, “Oh my god, what are you guys doing here?”

  And the old fuglies said, “We wanted to surprise you and take you to dinner!”

  And then all three fat, ugly people were holding hands and jumping up and down.

  That’s when I realized I was looking at Mr. and Mrs. Slutnick.

  The dad looked like Chef Boyardee but if he was uglier and more Jewy and not wearing a chef’s hat. And the mom looked like Slutnick if she kept getting fatter and uglier and just went through life without ever making any of the right moves.

  Slutnick introduced me, saying, “This is my friend Harper.”5

  I shook The Slutnicks’ hands and the dad smiled real wide and said, “If it isn’t the famous Harper!” and the mom said, “We’ve heard so many things about you!”

  And I just said, “Okay,” because I didn’t know what she meant because she didn’t say “I’ve heard so many good things” or “bad things.” Just “things.”

  Then Slutnick asked if I could come with them to dinner and the dad said, “Of course!” And then in a silly vampire voice, “We’ve come for both of you! Mwahaha!”

  And Slutnick squealed again and hugged the elder Slutnicks, saying, “This is so exciting!”

  When we got in the SNs’ car, the dad said, “Jill and I were thinking Olive Garden, does that sound good?”

  And Slutnick shouted, “Yay!”6 and did a little dance.

  As we drove to the restaurant, the three SNs all talked at the same time, so excited, like they hadn’t seen each other in years. And I wanted to hate them so much but, more than anything, it just made me miss being with my family and it made me pissed that my parents would never think to surprise me.7 They asked Slutnic
k about school and knew all of her professors’ names and knew exactly how she was doing in her classes. It was so bizarre. My parents didn’t even ask me what classes I was taking.

  At the Olive Garden, we had to wait for a table and they gave us a little vibrating stick8 to let us know when our table was ready.

  And while we were waiting, the SNs made a big deal about how happy they were to be eating there, saying things like, “I can’t wait to dive into their Bolognese,” and “I think we should get a flatbread. You know, for the table.”9

  And Slutnick said, “You guys know what my favorite part of dinner is, don’t you?”

  And the parents said, at the same time, “Unlimited breadsticks!”

  And SN squealed with piggish delight.10

  Then they asked me what I wanted and I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t know the whole menu like they did, so I just said, “Oh, I think I don’t like Italian food.” I don’t know why I said that, Miss Rita, I really do like Italian food. I just got nervous, so I blurted that out.

  Then the parents looked kind of disappointed in me and asked, “Do you want to go somewhere else, Harper?” And I should’ve said, “No, this is great. I actually love Italian food,” but instead I said, “Okay.”

  Luckily, the vibrating thing buzzed and our table was ready, so the dad said, “Well, let’s do Olive Garden for now and we’ll let you choose the restaurant next time.” And I thought this was actually really nice because it meant that they wanted me to go with them next time even if I screwed up tonight.11

  Miss Rita, I have to say, eating with The Slutnicks was actually kind of great. They’re really funny people and they tried to include me in the conversation the whole time. The dad talked about his bicycling trip to the Amish country, where he stayed in a real Amish person’s house overnight, and the mom talked about her book club, and it was funny how she described it as kind of juvenile, saying it reminded her of being in a high school English class with overly emotional teenagers arguing with each other.

  My parents barely speak to each other and never do anything fun. My dad comes home really late every night, and if my mom or I ask him about his day, he says, “Can we please not talk about that right now?” And my mother has no friends that she actually likes and would never join a book club because that would require reading, which she refuses to do.