Untitled so far

Okay, here's the first installment. It may be quite a bit longer than I thought.

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“Now don’t forget people, you may be on break but a designer never stops working, creating, thinking. Use your families and their respective dysfunctions as inspiration. What works for the holidays? What doesn’t? What’s new, or old, what’s just plain plebeian? I expect you to have a winter line in mind when you get back and to at least have drawings. Now scoot!”

Mr. Enderle’s lisp had barely faded, a tea kettle just taken off the stove, and I was already thinking of going home. Well, that and the fact that I had better come up with a new idea soon. I had been teamed up with Julia, we had planned on finishing design school as a team, but lately I had been doing all the work. I knew I shouldn’t have complained about it, that she would do something rude if I did, but I couldn’t help myself. We had…well, I had really come up with some great ideas and a killer theme, and the bitch turned it in as her own behind my back. Now I was stuck at square one. I had complained about it to my mother just yesterday.

“Mom, my winter theme has been stolen, and all I can say is fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!”

“Donald, honey, relax. I’m sure you’ll come up with a new one. What did you say to Mr. Enderle?”

“Ugh. Mother, Mr. Enderle is too much of a submissive bottom to do anything. I’m better off on my own.”

“Really, Donald, do you have to speak like that? It’s just so…gay. Not that I don’t love you honey, but your kind isn’t exactly front page material right now, right? Oh, I can’t wait to see you, it’s been too long!”

My kind. Like it’s a choice I’ve made, to love boys. If she was clueless, my father was even worse. Did I mention that I was looking forward to going home? Well, not for those two. My brother Brian, yes, and some friends from high school, but not them. I figured I’d do the holiday thing as quietly as possible, promised myself I wouldn’t make a fuss and spend most of the time with Brian and my friends. Specifically Janet and Mark. Of course, the possibility of ‘accidentally’ running into Robert was in the back of my mind as well.

Robert was my first boyfriend, my first kiss and my first penis that wasn’t my own. I was sixteen at the time, he was 30 and very unhappily married. A classic case of living in denial of his true nature. He had a wife and two kids and was terrified that they would one day find out about his secret life with me. We had broken things off when I decided to go to design school, but still exchanged letters once in a while. I had written that I was coming home, but he said with all the family around it would be hard to get away. We’ll just see about that.

I had decided on taking the bus home instead of flying. Not because I like the bus, mind you, but because it was far more economical. I was working part time as a waiter, which paid the rent, and I could eat for free at the restaurant, but after money for booze and the occasional drug binge I was broke. I had made everybody’s gifts this year, designed them myself, so I was able to save a lot there. I had considered car-pooling, but no one in my class was from Michigan. So, the bus it was.

The bus station in New Orleans was possibly the dirtiest place I had ever been, and that includes several disreputable spots in the French Quarter. New Orleans is a dreamworld if you love debauchery, which I do, but with that comes a price: filth. And it’s not just the streets and buildings. It’s the people. If you want to know where the demons from the lowest circle of hell hang out, it’s in the bus station in downtown New Orleans. And their leader, conveniently enough, decided to sit down next to me while I was waiting, even though there were empty seats everywhere.

He was filthy. Absolutely filthy, and he smelled like a combination of ashtray, ass, cheap wine and, strangely enough, lemon Pledge. He had probably been huffing it. But the worst part was his eyes. Crazy. One hundred percent certifiable. And, as luck would have it, he decided to speak to me.

“Hey you. You. You. Hey you.”

I tried ignoring him. When it looked like he was about to touch me I decided to answer.

“What? What what what what what?

He smiled, showing blackened stumps of teeth and a white coated tongue.

“In Bizarro world, people are rooted to the ground and the TREES walk about!” He cackled, sending his fetid and disgusting breath my way. I gagged, got up and walked away. He didn’t follow, thank god. I couldn’t wait for the bus to arrive.


M. PotPie