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.
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.
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.
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.
Him: You talk a lot.
Me: I also cook and clean a lot.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Him: I love you, big brother.
Me: Then give me a hug. I forgive you. I’m sorry.
Him: Me too.