By Utahna Faith.
He accused her of being a Traveller, although he knew her ancestors arrived not far post Mayflower.
Why do you always feel so good about yourself, he asked her? I just want to know why you always feel so good about yourself. Tell me.
It doesn’t matter, she answered. It’s an illusion anyway.
A myriad of drugs fueled them most nights, the most publicly visible being alcohol. For the hidden parts, his sneer amped up millwatts after trips to the bathroom. Colossal, he told her, and everyone who would listen.
Her attitude, he said. That fucking attitude. I write music all night long and work my ass off behind that stupid bar every freaking evening and gig for free on weekends. And how do I feel about myself? Like shit. Like shit, and it shows, doesn’t it? What does she do? Besides having a great ass and long blond hair. Well, okay, the retro velvet and silk shit are pretty right on, I guess. And okay, she writes those poems, whatever, and reads them in that beatnick dive place every Thursday. And yeah, she’s hot in the sack. And okay, fine, the day-trading thing worked out for her, I guess, but that’s just all timing. I’m working my ass off and what does it get me? Why does she get so fucking lucky?
Why do you get so fucking lucky?
Just tell me, he said. Just tell me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Utahna Faith lives in New Orleans with her husband and son. Her story “The Zilchers” is currently up at Exquisite Corpse: A Journal of Letters and Life. You may also visit her spankin’ new blog, Scenes from A Crescent. (It’s spankin’ new, but is not about spanking. Wouldn’t want to be misleading, now, would we?)
First published in 3:AM Magazine: Sunday, January 17th, 2010.