Broken Bird: Part Two

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Me: I made eggs, are you hungry?

Him: Okay, I guess. Wait, no. I’m fine. I’m getting fat.

Me: You’re never going to be fat.

Him: Where’s Karl?

Me: He left a few hours ago. He had to get to work.

Him: Work…  I know I’ve heard that word before. Work….

Me: I know, I’ve read about it, too. Who can say for sure, what this ‘work’ is? I understand everyone is always looking for it, and they dislike it when they have it?

Him: No, I think you’re thinking of ‘love.’

Me: I stand corrected.

(pause)

Me: So, I need to say this: My feelings were hurt last night.

Him: What? Why? Oh…

Me: Right. Karl and I were on our second date.

Him: I didn’t know that!

Me: I think I mentioned it, yesterday. I was excited about this one.

(pause)

Him: How did it go?

Me: Well, I dunno. It was going well. I guess I shouldn’t have…

Him: You know, I really like him!

Me: Yes. You two really seem to like one another.

(pause)

Him: Let’s just have this out. What are you upset about?

Me: Well, I kind of thought that Karl and I were on a date. I wanted you to meet us at Sugarland, because you’re living with me, and I consider you a good friend, by now.

Him: I am your friend.

Me: Right, and I feel like saying this, then – I don’t think it was very kind, or considerate of you to sleep with him in my bed, on our second date.

Him: I don’t think he thinks you two were on a date.

Me: At this point, no, neither do I. I don’t date people that fuck my friends during the first phase of the relationship. You have to wait a year or two, before you start fucking my roommate.

Him: It could have been the three of us…

Me: Yes. I know that. I felt that energy, but it’s hard for me to participate in that energy when I’m managing extreme hurt feelings.

Him: I’m sorry. I didn’t know.

Me: Right, well, I mentioned it was a date.

Him: I didn’t hear you.

(pause)

Him: You talk a lot.

(pause)

Me: I also cook and clean a lot.

(pause)

Him: I have to leave. I’ve got things to do today.

Me: I want you to know one more thing.

Him: Jesus, what now, grandpa?

Me: Just that I forgive you.

(pause)

Me: I forgive you both, and I am letting the anger for this go. My friendship with you is more important than a second date, and Karl is handsome, but not really my type.

Him: Seriously?

Me: I think so. I processed it, here, in the kitchen last night while you guys were soiling my sheets.

Him: I felt guilty when I saw you asleep on the couch.

Me: Well, you should check my blog. I blogged about it, last night, while you two were having sex.

Him: WHAT?

Me: Sorry. I had to get it out. I had to let it go. That’s part of what PIEFOLK is – it’s a place for me to put things I find awkward, sad, frustrating, or when people I care about do things I don’t quite understand.

Him: Michael, I’m sorry. Just tell me next time, or don’t invite me. You know what I’m like –

Me: When you’re drinking. Yes. And it’s hard to ask an actor, much less a drunk actor, to be anything less than the marvelous attention hound he was born to be. However, I’m a comic and a writer, and I want you to know – fair’s fair – this IS becoming material.

Him: Thanks for asking me. Looks like it already has become material.

Me: Uh, if you want to get on a high horse start paying rent.

(pause)

Him: I love you, big brother.

Me: Then give me a hug. I forgive you. I’m sorry.

Him: Me too.

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