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The phone rings. I am anxious. I am trying to dispel some of this nervous energy by prancing around my bedroom like a dancer on Fame, with the cordless in my hand. "Hello?" A groggy male voice on the other line. Good morning, Belgium! Did I wake you? "Jen! Hi honey! It's so good to hear you. No, I was getting ready for work, thinking about what kind of vegetable thing could possibly be good in the morning, besides cereal, which I have none of." I think there should be more meat-based cereals. Are you going vegan on me? When I met you, you said you were a "recovering" vegan. Does this mean you're relapsing? "Just for a little while, until you come out here. I don't want to be a big doughboy when I see you." Aww, honey, you know I'd love you anyway. Besides, you don't have to go completely vegan, you could just cut down on the meat and high-fat foods. Oh, but you wouldn't be vegan anyways, since you'd be eating cheese and milk, right? "Yeah, I don't think I could give cheese up. Or non-meat cereal." Never trust people who order pizza without cheese. In fact, if someone does this in your presence, run. Fast. "That's a good policy. I'll remember that." Spinning round and round in front of my dresser mirror, I suddenly stop and lie down on the floor. The walls continue to spin above me. There is a wide smile across my face. I miss you, sweetie. He chuckles. "I miss you, too, sweet lady. What are you doing?" Making myself dizzy. Kinda reminds me of what it's like to be with you. "You experience vertigo when you're with me?" In a way! It's kind of that fun sick feeling, like when you go on a rollercoaster. It's thrilling and scary at the same time and kinda makes your stomach feel queasy. "Ah... you flatter me so." And what are you doing? "Well, I've got breakfast down, opting for bagels minus cream cheese. Now I'm figuring out lunch." Don't you work in a deli? "Yes, but they don't feed me! And I'm not going to work an hour just to eat lunch in that disgusting food court. I see their food handling practices..." Ah, now you're betraying how very little you get paid. "Or how very expensive food is here..." Or how full of shit you are. "OK, you're right. I am a slavish minion and I humbly prostrate myself at the foot of your great and glorious pedestal. Will you still have me?" I'll think about it. I lay on the floor, feeling my dinner spin around in my belly, feeling queasy and giddy, imagining me in a long white gown, meeting him at the end of the aisle. Yeah, I think I'll keep you. Copyright 1/99 Jennifer Chung All rights reserved. Please hang up now. |