Heartbreak for Dinner: It's Kind of a Long Story (5 page)

“If it’s meant to be, it will be,” I told a very puzzled Michael one
night over dinner, when Noah was out with his family. “But you never know, fairy
tales do come true.”

Michael stared at me in disbelief and shook his head. “Boy will I
be glad when this bozo leaves town because, believe me, this won’t materialize into
shit.”

I lightly brushed him off and changed the subject.
Jerk
.

That Monday – much to my surprise – Noah called me and cancelled
on our picnic. His mother’s car had apparently broken down on the way to work and
he had to pick her up. He said they would be spending the whole day at the shop
trying to figure out what was wrong and that he’d call me later for dinner plans.

“Do you want me to come with you?” I asked in an effort to be supportive.

“No,” he said a bit too quickly. “I’ll call you as soon as we’re done.
Besides, babe, you’ll be bored out of your mind there.”

He was right. I hated smelly auto repair shops and although I wanted
to be upset at him, I couldn’t blame him for being a good son. I called Michael
to see if he wanted to hang out, but he had made plans with a girl he’d met over
the weekend. My mother was back from Cuba and working nights at the time so I had
to leave the house since she didn’t know I’d called in sick. Michael said I could
spend the day at his house watching TV even though he wouldn’t be there. I took
his offer and, after about two hours, became irritable and bored. Noah hadn’t called,
nor had he replied to any of my texts. I decided to visit the Humane Society and
spend the rest of my day there doing volunteer work. After feeding and walking about
12 dogs, I fell into a depressive spiral and decided it was time to go home. On
the way there I was hit with a craving for Mexican food and passed the border on
to the nearest Taco Bell. Once I parked my car, I looked down at my phone to find
Noah still missing in action. The frustration pushed my hunger boundaries and when
it was my turn to order, I ate for two.

After downing two Burrito Supremes, a Gordita, and some nachos – all
topped with fire sauce, of course – I jumped in my car and drove on home. The Humane
Society in North Miami is located in an area surrounded by warehouses and businesses.
I wasn’t completely familiar with the area but knew how to get to the expressway
in order to head home. After being lost for almost 20 minutes, I saw a sign for
the highway a few blocks ahead of me. Once I jumped on the Palmetto expressway,
a sharp pain stabbed my lower stomach and I gasped.

“
Dios,
” I muttered under my breath, “not now.”

The pain continued its sharp jabs, making vibrating sounds that went
from the bottom of my pelvis all the way up to my stomach and back down again. I
was praying it would subside in time for me to make it home, but the excruciating
pain was getting worse with every mile traveled. I sat there in anguish focusing
on the road, my forehead sweating profusely as I scanned ahead for the nearest exit.
I drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other clutched on my stomach,
hoping this would relieve me from some of the suffering. Another vibration shook
me, I squeezed my butt cheeks as tight as I could, praying to the bowel gods to
please cut me some slack and give me a few minutes.

By the time I got to the next exit, World War III was going off
inside me and I knew that if I fired a fart, a missile would come out. I quickly
realized I had no idea where the hell I was driving to or what street I was on,
yet I had faith I would find a McDonald’s or Starbucks somewhere down the road.
One minute passed, then two, my entire body clenched tightly and covered in sweat.
As I turned onto another street it was evident I’d soon have to pull over and shit
on the side of the road when I mercifully saw the light. A Citgo gas station was
standing like a beacon of hope at the following intersection. I pulled in Mario
Andretti style and parked my car right in front of the women’s restroom, bolting
as quickly as my body allowed under the circumstances for the door. I imagined what
it would be like to crap in a public bathroom standing up, as it was obvious I’d
have no time to cover the toilet seat with paper. I turned the knob joyfully and
to my horror, it was locked. A paper taped to the wall read the following:

There are moments in an adult’s life where they realize they
have lost and their only option is defeat. This was definitely one of those moments.
I walked purposefully to my car, sat in the driver’s seat, and just let it rip.
I defecated in my pants for almost a full minute, glad to relieve myself of the
pain that had been haunting me for the past half hour. Loud farts and squishy sounds
burned my poor defenseless butt hole. Never again would I eat another burrito, even
though they tasted so damn good (never again = two months). I turned on the radio
and drove back home, sitting in the warm shit that was now under my ass and all
over my thick workout pants. The smell was making me so nauseous I felt like I would
throw up at any minute. My mind kept focusing on getting home, burning the pants,
and taking a shower, not necessarily in that order. I’m not sure if it was from
the frustration or shock, but I silently began to cry as I drove in the putrid stench.

To add insult to injury, I had to figure out how to get to my apartment
without running into anyone. I knew the stairs were my safest bet, but I couldn’t
imagine climbing them without poop dripping down my legs and most likely out of
the pants. I figured it was early in the day and most people would be working, making
my elevator plan the preferred escape method.

As I turned past the gates toward my parking space, I was smacked
in the face by a vision of Noah hugging a girl as she kissed his neck. I was sure
the scent of my own feces surrounding me like a bubble was making me delusional
and I blinked repeatedly to focus on the picture to my right. There he stood, Mr.
Future Plans himself, leaning against the elevator with one of the girls he’d brought
to the pool weeks before. I glared at him in spite of myself and momentarily forgot
the bigger picture. When he saw me, his eyes opened in surprise and he quickly detangled
himself from her death grip. He said something to her and started running toward
my car, ordering me to put down the window.

How sweet it would’ve been to let the smell hit him in the face and
see his reaction, but instead I did a three-point turn, nearly running him over
in the process. Noah banged loudly on my window and even tried opening my door as
I attempted to make my escape. He pleaded through the glass as I waited for the
electric gate to open, possibly assuming I was too angry to confront him. My only
option upon leaving was driving another 10 minutes to Michael’s house to shower
there. I picked up my cell phone and called to make sure he was home before jumping
into a Miami canal and calling it a day.

“Hello?” he answered, breathless.

“I have to take a shower at your house,” I sobbed pathetically into
my cell phone.

“Why are you crying?”

I sniffed and blew my nose while saying something incoherently.

“Just come on over. I’m here with Jessica, but my shower is all yours.”

I hadn’t anticipated him being there with anyone but frankly didn’t
give a shit because well, I was all out of it.

“It’s fine,” I said, defeated. “See you soon.”

By the time I arrived at Michael’s, I was so nauseous I thought
I would faint. I stood at the door knocking softly and feeling sorry for myself.

“What the hell is going on?” said Michael. “Whoa, Christ! What’s that
smell?”

“I told you I need to use your shower.”

The good thing about my friend, was that loud persona and the need
to make a joke out of everything aside, he knew when to shut the fuck up. He stepped
aside and motioned like a butler would to his master. “Go on.”

When I stepped inside the bathroom I rolled my pants into a ball and
stuffed them inside the garbage bag, tying a secure knot on top. I hurried in the
shower, still too stunned to fully process the afternoon’s events. As soon as I
turned on the water a wave of nausea hit me and I barely made it to the toilet before
throwing up the rest of my dignity into it in my best exorcist impression.

Two hours later, I was sitting at the kitchen telling Michael
and Jessica my story. While Michael laughed so hard tears streamed down his face,
Jessica looked at me like I was a pig covered in manure.
Like if she never had
a stomach ache before
. I thanked them for their hospitality and apologized for
interrupting their afternoon. Jessica got up and mumbled something about having
to go to class.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Michael got up after her.

“Bye,” she said quickly without even looking at me.

While my friend was out with Miss Snob, I disposed of the garbage
bag and began to clean his bathroom. He walked in on me in the process and howled
with laughter now that we were alone. I chose to ignore him and continued scrubbing
his toilet in silence. Sensing my desire to be alone, he retreated to his bedroom
and let me sulk in solitude. I was wearing pajamas that belonged to Michael’s sister
when I finally emerged from my pity party, every piece of clothing I’d been wearing
earlier tossed in the garbage and part of a not-so-pleasant past. I went in feeling
sheepish and silently climbed in his bed and ducked for cover.

“Are you okay?” he nuzzled my ear and hugged me like a bear would
their offspring.

I burrowed my swollen face into his chest and hugged him back, seeking
shelter in his arms from the horror of my day. “I guess I had it coming, huh?”

He kissed my hair and rubbed the small of my back. “Shit happens,
Annie,” he sighed and pulled me closer in an embrace that possibly crossed the friend
zone for the very first time in our history of platonic affections. As I looked
up at him and put my hand on his face, I realized how simple life would be if only
we’d fall in love with our best friends and not the assholes we chase so dearly
as we roll into adulthood. That’s the thing about life, though, it is never simple
nor easy, and much as we may try, the heart will guide us to the places it wants,
even if most times it’s quite dangerous and smells of shit.

Besties for life (or until Michael married some girl who didn’t
like me).

I was standing against a light pole trying to rest my feet,
a sea of people gathered in front of me as they waited to enter the nightclub.
I’d managed to sleep two hours on the flight into Spain that morning. Yet, despite
my desire to make the night mine, my eyes closed involuntarily as I rested my head
on the wooden structure.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep,” my best friend shook me and smirked.
“I’m
this
close to getting us in.”

I watched Olivia go work her magic and tried to light a fire of excitement
unsuccessfully as I surveyed the people in line. As always, judging and examining
strangers when they weren’t looking was a pastime I couldn’t resist, starting with
the couple arguing right at the very front. The girlfriend scolded her guy for not
making reservations earlier just like she’d asked, and he rolled his eyes at her
in silence. A group of girls drank red wine from a Coke bottle, undeterred by the
long wait and creepers behind them trying to get a grope in. A fat guy picked at
his teeth with what looked like a plastic knife and I winced in disgust. Someone
behind him laughed in amusement and whispered something to her companion. Groups
of Spaniards gathered in clusters and waited, their heavy accents reminding me I
was 4,000 miles from the place I called home.

I continued my judgmental parade down the line half-heartedly and
sighed, halfway hoping Olivia wouldn’t get her way and we could head back to the
Westin for some much-needed sleep. Two girls in miniskirts, a soccer team of guys,
a transvestite and his unsuspecting date, some friends on a double date and then,
there he was.

I drew in a sharp breath at the sight of him and did a double take,
making sure James Dean hadn’t manifested his resurrection in my dreams and, maybe,
I was still sleeping in first class. My curious gaze must’ve drawn his to mine,
and from one moment to the next, blue eyes were locked with brown in a staring contest
I wasn’t mentally prepared for. At that moment, Olivia tugged on my hand and announced
we were in, a satisfied smile on her beautiful face. I managed an enthusiastic squeal
as my legs moved me forward, but when I looked back to make sure I hadn’t imagined
him, all that remained was his ghost.