Sunday, November 16, 2008

For Closure: The Wrong Fucking Attitude

Mark looked down into his fist and read her hate fused into her text. His finger rifled through her words until her number came up. He pressed the button and cursed himself for allowing her to push his buttons. He put his phone to his ear.

What!” He listened as she lambasted him. “Am I the one calling you?” he demanded.

He listened to her rant.

Did you bother reading the whole thing?" He wiped his eyes with his hand.

He listened to her rave.

"Well why didn't you finish it?" He grew tired of her tirade. “Woman - why are you bothering me?” He scrubbed his scalp while she scalded the emotional scabs she had seared on his soul. He swung his feet off the armrest and shifted his ass until he sat straight on the sofa. “Kaitlyn you've gotta listen to me.” He injected into her rave, “Are you listening to me? I lived it too. I can write about us. I lived this play too. I sent it to you to be nice. I didn't use your name.” He waited for the cessation of her curses. “Okay woman listen to me.” He balanced his body by bracing his elbow against his knee. He balanced his voice. The words marched out of his mouth and tainted his timbre with a funereal feel. “I don’t take attitude from people I don’t fuck.”

He heard her scream her silence.

“You get that?” He arched his back and sat back against the sofa. “I’m not taking shit from someone who isn’t giving me something. Women get that wrong. You’re not trading anything back here. I don’t get to fuck you - you don’t get to berate and belittle me. That’s why guys leave kid. Right there. Inequity.” Her taciturnity became as tangible as her rage. “There’s always ten women standing around who’re willing to trade that at the beginning of a relationship.” He leaned forward and grabbed his bottle. “You get that? You’re overpriced.” He heard her start to debate and to decimate. “I’m going to hang up now. So don’t call me again. You’ve priced yourself out of the market babe.” He put an end to the call and put his feet up on his coffee table. He looked at his phone, reached for it, and deleted her number from his address book.