It’s a gloomy day outside. One of those days where you just sit and reflect on those special times in life.
There are times in life when you wake up at six in the morning, because your phone thinks that it’s already eight in the morning. Then you realize that it’s not your cell phone’s fault at all but your own for setting it to the wrong time. And this is the second time that you have woken up too early. Because the day before, someone called you at four in the morning to sell you a fridge at the “incredibly low price” of fifty dollars including taxes.
There are times in life when you want everything to be perfect, but everything goes completely wrong. Like when you were helping your friend Paul to organize a surprise party for his girlfriend and suddenly she comes inside the apartment with another dude. “Don’t worry honey, nobody is going to bother us. That shit-bag boyfriend of mine went out of town, he won’t be back until tomorrow. Can you believe that he forgot about my birthday?”
There are times in life when you want everything not to be true, and thank god that it wasn’t! The dude with Paul’s girlfriend in reality was her friend Silvia, a six-foot-two woman with large shoulders and a pale white mustache who was keeping Paul’s girlfriend company since she was alone on her birthday.
There are times in life when Paul wakes up in the morning with a girl, who looks an awful lot like Silvia, lying next to him because he drank too much at the surprise party. But there are also times in life when you wake up and everything seems perfect. You get up and go to the fridge to grab some milk for your coffee. And the milk is there, waiting for you. You don’t have to go out in the rain to buy some. Everything is perfect!
And there are also times in life when you need to run to the bathroom because the coffee you heated up in the microwave this morning was the same coffee that you made two weeks ago, and you have a pretty good idea of what will happen if you don’t make it to the toilet in time.
I am sorry. I have to run!
- Simone la Cuercha
It’s four in the morning and I’m still awake. I have had quite a busy day of lying around doing nothing and there just hasn’t been time to write until now. So, what’s a good four in the morning story? Let’s see here….
It was four in the morning and Martin was tossing and turning in bed. He tried to fall asleep but all he could think about was the last conversation he had had with Jessica. Was she really going to marry that one-eyed, one-armed Serbian juggler she had met at the Cirque du Soleil? Didn’t that passionate weekend in West Virginia mean anything to her?
It was four in the morning. Exactly four hours since she slammed the door in his face, rejecting his advances. Four days since he had found out that his dog had cancer. Four months since he scored a 440 on the GMAT. Four years of college spent studying his ass off and for what? He had no job, and he was still alone thanks to four different girls, who had all left him for circus folk. Four, four, four, four….
Martin imagined all the different fours floating around his head, taunting him. Suddenly they started chirping loudly. “#%$@&!” The birds had already woken up and were preparing to recommence their perpetual search for those ever elusive worms. Now how was he supposed to sleep? Sometimes he wished he could just sprout a pair of wings and fly away, leaving all of his problems behind.
He decided to go for a walk in order to clear his head. About forty minutes later, he reached the Palm Mangroves Golf Course at 44th St and Broad. Suddenly he heard a strange noise. Behind a golf cart he noticed a German Shepherd joyfully mounting a little toy poodle. Martin couldn’t help but think of Jessica and that Serbian juggler. Life just wasn’t fair.
As he pondered the inhumanity of it all, he had the faintest impression that someone was taunting him with that number again. He looked up just in time to see a white projectile zooming towards him.
They were back again, and this time he didn’t try to ignore them as they danced around his head. Four, four, four, four….
- Carlos de la Gringa
Saturday morning I wake up hung-over. Suddenly I realize: I need water. I run to the kitchen, but Charlie, the rat, is right in front of the door. Charlie has lived here since we arrived, 6 months ago. “I’m leaving, Simone, this place sucks!” He has a small little satchel in his paw, “I’m moving out.” “Charlie wait, we’ll clean up the place, we can adjust your rent, don’t go…” But before I can finish the sentence, Charlie lets out one last squeak before disappearing inside a giant cat, tail and all.
“The bitch from last night left her tiger here,” yells my roommate Dan, while he puts on his jacket and runs out, “See you later Simone, see you later Meecho!” The tiger waves good bye, “See you later, baby!” I definitely need some water.
My water bottle is sitting under the table next to the half-eaten tuna sandwich that’s been on the floor since last week. I notice where Charlie had nibbled at it and I start to get emotional. But the water bottle is empty. I try to pull myself together, because I have only one choice. I have to drink the water from the tap. But when I turn the water on, a milky liquid comes out. It looks a bit like mayonnaise. I can’t drink this shit. So I open the fridge. I notice a strange alien spore colony growing on the broccoli and cheddar soup from last Christmas. It starts to pulsate. I grab the first plastic bottle I see and I drink.
2 hours later…
When I wake up, I’m face down on the floor with a big puddle of drool all over the carpet. I must have fainted. And now, god knows why, I need to piss. After I sprint to the bathroom, I notice a crocodile resting in the bathtub right next to the toilet. There are even large bite marks in the shower curtain. “Well Simone,” I tell myself, “I think it’s time for us to move out as well.”
- Simone la Cuercha