Mom.

Brody, pick up the phone!

Who is it?

It's your mother!

My mom??

Yeah!

Hello?

What the hell is the matter with you?

Hey, Mom.

Why aren't you home yet?

There're still a few weeks left in school.

I'm tired of you being at school all the time. When will you be finished?

Not for another semester, but Mom, even after I graduate, I'm not coming home.

And why not?

Because I don't want to live with my mom anymore.

And why not?

Because I'll have my degree. Because I'll get a job. Because I'll move to another state. Because I'll get married, I'll have kids, and a dog - all that stuff. I can't do that if I'm still living with my mom.

Yes you can.

I can't and I won't.

Ever since your father died, you've been rebelling against me…

That's not true.

Oh, yes it is. Ever since he past away, you've wanted nothing to do with me. I don't even know who you are anymore. You're not the son I remember.

I'm not rebelling against you.

Well, what would you call it?

Growing up.

You don't know what you're talking about. You're too young to be growing up.

I'm 23 and in my third year of college. When will I be grown up?

You've got to hit 30 first and that's a fact. Statistics have shown it - men don't fully develop into grown men until they turn 30.

Mom, that's not true.

Oh yes, it is! I read it in Reader's Digest!

Will you stop? I'm not the one who's changed since Dad died. I am grown up and I'm not coming home.

Don't take that tone with me.

Why did you call me, Mom?

Your picture's in the paper.

My picture?

Yeah, your face. Your face is in the newspaper. It's a review for that place you waiter at. It's plain as day, right here in front of me. Your picture. Although, I won't call it a handsome one. You need a haircut, Brody. I can't believe you let it get out of control like that. Are you taking care of yourself? I swear, if you get sick--

I'm not getting sick. Which newspaper did you find the picture in?

The Seattle Times, what else?

I'll have to pick up a copy. I don't even remember a picture being taken.

Well, there's another waiter standing next to you and I must say, he's a good-looking young man. Why can't you look more like him, Brody? Why can't you be dashing, like him?

I don't know how.

And you say you're not rebelling against me?

Alright, Mom. Thanks for calling.

Oh, well - you're welcome. It was my pleasure. Nothing suits me better than a phone call to my arrogant son.

I'll see you at Christmas.

Fine. But cut your hair before you get here - I won't let you in the house if you look like a homeless boy.

Bye, Mom!

Fine, goodbye.


Word Count: 5,434

Jim, again.

The door is still busted, Brody-man.

Yeah… I called Hal this morning.

And what'd "Grumps" have to say?

Not a lot.

Did you tell him our door was broken?

Of course I did, but he refused to believe me.

Isn't he the one who put the door in?

Yeah and that's exactly why he wouldn't listen to me.

What is wrong with that guy? Doesn't he care about the people who live in his complex? We pay him every month to live here, and what do we get in return? A busted door, a sink that won't drain, and a broken heater. The lousy bastard… Maybe I should have been the one to call him.

I'm not sure about that. He says you still owe rent this month.

Yeah, I know I do…

He said you need to pay by Wednesday or he's adding some "late fee" or something.

Alright, fine.

Why haven't you paid it yet?

Laziness.

Prime reason.

Shut up, man. I can take care of myself.

Okay.

So how was work?

It was okay.

Does anything interesting ever happen on a Tuesday night?

We were surprisingly busy, but other than that… Not really.

You work in one of the most popular restaurants in downtown and you never have any stories to tell.

I'm not a storyteller, Jim.

Yeah, but if you just told one every now and then, I bet you’d have a much better social life.

Why do you care so much about my social life?

It just doesn't seem right.

What doesn't?

Your life and the way you live it! You go to a prestige school where there are tons of parties and gorgeous women. You work in a very popular place to dine and hang out. You're not half-bad looking. If I didn't know you and saw you walking down the street, it might cross my mind that you might be a pretty popular guy.

Do you always think things about random people you see on the streets?

I keep myself entertained.

As much as you don't think so, I strive to live my life differently than everybody else on the planet, and that includes not being the social butterfly you wish I could be.

What is so wrong with being a social butterfly?

What is so wrong with not being a social butterfly?

Don't you want people to notice you?

No.

No?

No.

You're full of it. I bet you do.

I don't want to be noticed. I don't like standing out.

You make me so sad. The few times we've gone out to the bars, I've seen chicks glancing your way and you don't even realize it. You could be getting so much action, but you take it all for granted.

So you're saying you're jealous?

I'm not jealous!

So what then? I don't pay attention to that type of stuff. I don't go to bars to pick up girls. I've never picked up a girl in my life. I've never found that enticing.

Enticing? You don't find hot chicks at bars enticing? What kind of sick man are you?

Apparently, very sick.

I don't know why we keep arguing about this, man. If you would just realize that I'm right…

You keep bringing it up, Jim. If you would just realize that I like the way I am and don't see anything wrong with the way I live my life, then you could live your own life and feel a lot more fulfilled.

I don't think I'll be fulfilled until I see some changes happen to you.

Well, you're not going to be the one changing me.

I'm going to sure as hell try!

Go ahead, but while you're trying, make sure you pay rent sometime this week.

You jerk.

I know.

Are you going to sleep already?

Yeah, I'm tired.

Fine.

Night, Jim.

Night.


Word Count: 4,934

Asino.

Brody! Table three is low on drinks! And check on table eight, ‘cause they’re looking anxious!

More drinks for you ladies?

Yes, please. I’ll have another raspberry cocktail.

And I’d just like some more water, please.

Absolutely. I’ll be right out with those.

Excuse me, waiter?

Yes, sir.

We need more bread.

Okay, I’ll tell your waiter.

Thank you.

Jedd, your table is out of bread. Table seven.

Thanks, Brody.

How’s everyone over here?

We’re doing okay. We’re pretty hungry. Is our food almost ready?

A very reasonable question. I’ll be right back. I’m going to go check on it for you.

Thank you.

Agostus, do you have table eight’s food ready?

Just a minute! Don’t rush me! Don’t rush me!

They’ve been waiting over thirty minutes!

It’s a lot of food!

If they don’t get their food, it’s not my fault, but I’ll be the one blamed!

It’s a beautiful life, no?

Please hurry up, okay?

I’m going as quickly as my hands can toss a salad, okay?

Even I can toss a salad.

Don’t insult me, asino!

You just insulted me!

No I did not!

Yes you did. You called me a jackass in Italian.

No I did not!

I’m not going to keep arguing with you, Agostus. Just help me out and finish cooking table eight’s dinner, okay?

Okay, okay! Now leave!

You’re food will be right out, sir.

Yeah, okay. Thank you, waiter.

You’re welcome.


Word Count: 4,287

Sex and Gender in America.

Please, please. Everyone have a seat. We have a heavy hour ahead of us and I am not in the mood to keep you all in check. So do me a favor and manage yourselves for the day.

Over the weekend, I was able to grade all your papers. I’m in a bit of a generous mood, so be prepared for a large dose of verbal criticism. While there were a few of you who had a basic understanding of what I asked you to consider when you wrote your essay, I was shocked by how many of you didn’t.

All of you in here, especially those of you in your third and fourth years of college, should have a strong grasp as to what is required of you to succeed in achieving your degree. This is not high school, ladies and gentleman. As much as you wish it could be.

Julie, could you please come take these from me and hand them back to their syndicated author? Thank you, Julie.

Now I am going to begin writing all kinds of nonsense on the board, but it’s important, so you’d best pay attention and take notes.

Welcome to Sociology 203, the study of Sex and Gender in America. I wanted to remind you of this, in case you’d forgotten exactly what it was you were going to school four days out of the week for the last five weeks.

Recently, I asked you to write a paper explaining, thoroughly, the stereotypes of the gender opposite of yourself. Girls, you would write about the male stereotype and Guys, you would write about the female stereotype. To me, that sounds like a pretty easy thing to do. I suggested you research history, to even go as far back as Adam and Eve, in hopes to gain support for your paper.

What I received from the majority of you were sob stories of how that guy or girl broke your heart and stole the best years of your life. This was not what I wanted. Why did you make me sit two days straight through the most tediously written break-up stories man has ever known? How could you do that to me? You all owe me a good weekend.

Except for two of you. One of you is in this class, the other is in my afternoon class. In my personal opinion, you two would be perfect together and I hope you meet someday.

Allow me to demonstrate one of the lines from one of your assignments that left me feeling woozy. The person who wrote this line, I would like for you to stand up when you recognize it. If you do not stand, I will fail you. And the sentence reads, “After my personal experience, which ended only three months ago, I believe women earn their stereotype for being air-headed and materialistic.”

I ask the culprit to stand. There you are, Mr. Sanders! How are you this morning, sir?

I’m alright.

Very good. I just wondered why you felt this was the most ideal conclusion you could come up with in two week’s of research?

I’ve dated a lot of women, Professor Tenay, and—

And what has that got to do with America or history or women, Mr. Sanders? What does your limited amount of experience with the poor women you’ve dated have to do with the way that they are, the way they are perceived, and the way they are treated in American culture?

If you think I didn’t research, you’re wrong.

But is that apparent in your essay? Because as far as I can tell, it isn’t. If dating women has given you such a grand understanding of them that can only lead me to believe that the reason they are the way they are is because they dated you. But the truth of the world, Mr. Sanders, is that you have not dated every woman in America and therefore could not possibly know what each one of them is like. So in conclusion, I must believe that your understanding of woman is basically nil and you did no real research at all. You may sit down, Mr. Sanders.

I have another sample to share with you, this comes from a lady in the class and it reads, “Men think they own the world and all the women in it. I am glad that so many women in America are choosing to put their careers ahead of marriage these days. Men are so inflated by their own egos, it is no wonder they are always looking down at women.” Please, Miss Peterson, I’d like to know more.

Please don’t pick on me, Professor.

Don’t worry, Miss Peterson. By picking on you, I am picking on every girl in the class.

Fine.

Miss Peterson, I am very curious… Have you ever known a man who didn’t have an inflated ego?

Yes.

That’s interesting. Because I have known many women who have inflated egos and many women who don’t.

Oh, really?

Yes, really! Does it surprise you?

Well…

Please explain to me, and to the rest of the class, why you seem to believe that men are the only ones in America with large egos? Why are women exempt of this rule?

They’re not exempt. It’s just not as common for women to be full of themselves.

There is no support for that in your paper.

That’s because you told us it had to be about the opposite of our own gender.

Spare me, Miss Peterson. If you mentioned the subject of women in an essay about men, I would not fail you. Without women, there would be no men. You may have a seat.

I have one last bit to read to you and this is the one I feel the saddest about. It is sad because after this, you may never look at him or treat him the same way. Surely, he will receive many glares in the hallways after this and he does not deserve it. I hope he will forgive me. I am pleased with his essay and can truthfully say it was a few brief minutes during my weekend when I enjoyed myself. So I must thank him afterwards. Please pay attention to this brilliant piece of composition.

“In March of 2002, magazine reporter Anne Baker asked a young girl native to Japan what she thought American women were like and she answered, ‘They are very beautiful and sparkly.’ As a young American man, I believe I would say the same thing. The female stereotype is complex and cannot be entirely determined, as I feel that all women are different, intriguing, and special. They are cynical and they are romantic, but mostly, I believe women are independent and determined. History has proven they are both—women fought for their right to vote in the 40s and Rosa Parks, an African-American woman, refused to give up her seat to a white man in 1955. As much as society would like to force them all into a box (a box with curves) and make them into a more simplified form, I believe the stereotypical American woman would not allow for it. She is much too smart for that.”

Will you please stand up, Mr. Claeys?

I guess so.

I must applaud you for your wonderful work.

That’s okay. It’s no big deal.

To be perfectly honest, I did not expect this from you. You are always so quiet in class. I would think that someone with this type of voice would be sharing it audibly all the time.

Just because someone talks a lot doesn’t mean they have a lot to say.

Touché. Well, sir, I believe you earned your “A” fair and square. There was one other who did as well as you, but she is in my next class. Perhaps the two of you would like to get together and discuss the meanings of things.

I doubt that would be a valuable use of either of our time.

You are not that type?

No, Professor Taney. I just ask questions. In my head.

Perhaps you will invite us all into your head more often in the following weeks of class. The rest of your classmates could learn something from you, Mr. Claeys.

I doubt that.

Actually… So do I. But perhaps they will surprise me. Class is dismissed. Mr. Claeys, may I have a word?

Sure.

I apologize for putting you on the spot like that, but I was so disappointed by the rest of the students, I wanted to show them exactly what impresses me.

No, it’s fine. I don’t really know anyone at school, so if they hate me more than they did before, I wouldn’t really notice.

Does that bother you?

What?

Not knowing anyone here or having anyone to socialize with?

I prefer it. Besides, the majority of the students here are only interested in partying and I have friends I see outside of school.

Ah, well… We must do what we must.

I guess so.

Well, thank you. For the effort you’ve put forth and for letting me use you as a superb example.

It’s no problem.

See you tomorrow?

Most likely.

Until then.

Goodbye, Professor.

Goodbye, Mr. Claeys.


Word Count: 4,048

Doors that don't jam.

I realize this is early for you, Hal, but I have class this morning and work tonight and this is my only chance to call otherwise.

So what’s your issue, Brody? Do you even have an issue?

Well, our door is broken. It has been for the last week or so.

What’s wrong with it? I installed that door myself.

It gets jammed.

No it doesn’t.

I’m sorry?

Your door does not jam. It can’t. I’m the one who put it in.

I understand that, Hal, but it really, truly does. We’ve tried greasing the hinges and checked it time and again - nothing seems to help.

Well, of course not. You’re aiding a nonexistent ailment. Do you know anything about carpentry?

All I know is that my door jams.

All right, look. When a door jams, typically something isn’t lined up right, which could be caused by a multitude of things. Most commonly, the frame is too narrow and needs to be trimmed or tapered or filed own, what have you, in order for the door to shut properly. Otherwise, you’ve got a badly lined up door scraping against the top of the door frame, making it difficult to open and close the door, et cetera.

Okay.

So do you have a better understanding of the problem at hand?

I do.

Good.

So will you fix our door?

What’s wrong with it?

It jams.

No it doesn’t. I installed it.

Fine. It’s time for me to go to class. I’m sorry I bothered you, Hal.

Next time, don’t call so early unless there’s a problem.

Okay.

By the way, you should probably let your roommate know that he has yet to pay his rent this month.

He hasn’t paid?

No, and if I don’t get it by Wednesday, tomorrow, I’m charging him a late fee.

I’ll tell him.

Good.

Bye, Hal.

Have a good day.


Word Count: 2,500

Jim.

You really need to get this door fixed, man.

Yeah, I know.

Where have you been all night? You’re never home this late on Monday night. I’m not sure whether I should be worried or relieved.

Haha, you’re funny.

Seriously, man. You’re always home early. It doesn’t matter what day of the week it is.

It’s only a little after midnight.

You are an insufferable bore, and we both know it. So out with it. Where’ve you been?

I don’t know...

You don’t know?

No, not really.

All right, man. If that’s how you’re going to be, I won’t ask. But as much as you bore the hell out of me, I find myself intrigued.

Thanks, man.

No problem. So you’re going to call to get the door fixed?

Why don’t you call? You live here too.

I figure I’m giving you the opportunity to reach out and have a normal conversation with someone besides myself. I do it, or don’t do it, because I care about you, dude.

I talk to people. How do you think I got a job working as a waiter?

For all I know, you stole some poor fool’s uniform, started acting like you work at “The Lucky Nine” and after a week or two, managed to get your name on the payroll.

You’re so stupid.

And you look tired.

I am tired.

Then go to bed.

Going.

But before you crash, I’ll give you one last chance to tell me who you had sex with tonight.

What?

If you got laid, you’d tell me right? Friends don’t not tell friends when they get laid. Did you get laid?

Goodnight, Jim.

Please tell me?

I’ll call Hal in the morning about the door.

You’re not going to tell me.

I have nothing to tell.

You never do!

Maybe I like it that way.

When are you going to start living the life of a 23-year-old man?!

When are you going to start butting into your own life instead of everyone else’s?

I have a life, okay?

Good! So ask yourself if you got laid tonight. I am sure your answer will satisfy your inquisitive taste buds much better than mine could.

As a matter of fact, I did get laid tonight.

Despite having not asked, I congratulate you on your supreme manhood.

You are never this arrogant! What happened tonight?!

Goodnight, man.

Tell me her name!

I’m going to bed now, Jim.

You suck, man.

I know. Goodnight.

Night.


Word Count: 2,185

Number 50.

Welcome to Anonymous Friends. I am Anonymous Friend 22 and I’ll be your host for the evening. You have been invited here for a chance to meet other people, get to know them, and express yourself in a way you might not otherwise have the chance. Here at Anonymous Friends, we do not share our names or personal information, like phone numbers or e-mail addresses. We are only interested in getting to know each other on a level deeper than first names and being able to help one another through encouraging words and support. So please refrain from using your real name here and refer to your Anonymous Friend Number only. If you have not been given a number yet, please come see me during Socialization and I will happily give you one. Food and drinks are available on the back table, be sure to help yourself, it’s all free. But before we start Socialization, and I know you’re all hungry, I’d like to give some of our new faces a chance to introduce themselves to you. There was a very nice young man who came in earlier tonight who I am very interested in getting to know. You, sir, in the third row. Would you mind coming up to the podium and telling us a bit of who you are and what you’re life is like?

...I don’t have a number.

As you shouldn’t, because after all, this is your first time to Anonymous Friends, am I correct?

Yeah.

Well then, allow me to introduce you. Everyone here at Anonymous Friends, I would like you all to meet Anonymous Friend 50. This is his first time here, so please give him a warm welcome. Fifty, feel free to come up and speak however much you like. Afterwards, we will all enjoy a nice meal. I look forward to having the chance to catch up with each other’s lives in the outside world.

Thanks... I was asked to come here, I'm not sure why. Now, I’ve been asked to talk about myself, I'm not sure why about that either. There isn't much about me that's very interesting. As you can plainly see, I'm not much to look at. At least, that's what I've always been told. People have encouraged me to get a hair cut and spend a little money getting a new wardrobe, but I feel the shaggy brown hair and vintage jacket seem to suit me best.

Excuse me if my voice is a little dry this evening. It's raining out and unless I wear a scarf, the rain always seems to leave my throat feeling a bit parched. I'm weird in that way, I guess.

Anyway... I go to school at Wexton University, about twenty minutes from here. I'm not sure what I want to major in yet and my mom is pushing me to figure that out. Because ever since my dad died, something in her changed and she just hasn't been the same since then. And I have no idea why I'm telling you about my mother.

Could I get a glass of water, maybe? Thanks.

I also work as a waiter at "The Lucky Nine", maybe you've heard of it? I've been working there almost six months now. I don't get paid a lot, but the tips seem to take up the slack. I'm not very good at being overtly friendly, but I try to remember to smile and whenever I do, that seems to make the difference in how much tips I get.

Wow, I'm so nervous right now. I thought coming here would be a little change of pace, perhaps a chance to have a bit of fun. I don't really get out much, you know? Most of the guys in school belong to frats or they're trying to get into a frat and I'm not into that. And the people I work with at "The Lucky Nine" are into stuff I've never been interested in.

Maybe I should explain how I got here... I was in class when I got a call from someone I work with. He said he couldn't make it into work that night and asked if I could cover his shift. Mostly, I didn't want to because I was pretty tired already, but I knew I could use the extra money, so I agreed to go in for him.

That night, I was waiting on this table where a girl was sitting with a group of older people. I figured she was with coworkers because they were all dressed really professionally and the way she behaved around them made me think they definitely weren’t family. I didn’t say anything to her, but I remember making eye contact with her several times throughout the night. That hardly ever happens to me. Girls don’t look at me, and if they do, I can never tell. So when I noticed that she was, it made me nervous and excited and scared, all at once.

Well, I wanted to talk to her because the opportunity had never raised itself in the past. I figured if I ever wanted to start a relationship in my lifetime, I’d better take hold of whatever chance became presented. I’m not a daring guy, I’m not outgoing. The truth about me is that I’m extremely reserved and I enjoy being a private person. Something you might not believe at the moment, as I seem to be pouring out my soul here. But I suppose there is something in all people that longs to be touched or inspired by someone else and I am no exception to that.

Anyway... I’d finally built up the nerve to go ask her out when I saw that everyone at her table was getting ready to leave. Feeling awkward, I stopped halfway to her table and battled with whether or not I should still ask for her number. By the time I’d made my decision, I realized that she and her party had paid and left. I felt like the biggest jerk that ever lived.

I went back to the kitchen to pick up any orders I needed to take out. I was back there with two arm’s full of plates when Jedd, another waiter, came to me with the receipt from that girl’s table. Apparently, before she left, she wrote “46, building 500, Gilman Street, 7pm tomorrow,” and told Jedd to give the receipt to me. Of course, I was thrilled that she would have anything sent to me personally, but the information she gave left me feeling intrigued, which is a hard thing to do. My curiosity is not stricken easily.

The note she gave me lead me here, to building 500 on Gilman Street. Of course, she’s not here this evening, so I’m at a bit of a loss. However, everyone here seems quite nice and I wouldn’t mind eating some free food. So I hope it’s still okay if I stick around and have a drink. And that’s all I really have to say.

Thank you, Fifty. That was wonderful. Everyone here can see you have a beautiful heart and we are all very glad to have you here. And we are grateful to the special girl who shared Anonymous Friends with you. Whoever she is, if you come by her again, please thank her from all of us.

I doubt I will ever see her again, unless she really did mean for me to come here. But if I do, I’ll tell her.

Now that everyone’s stomachs have started eating themselves, I suggest we make our way to the back table and share in some deliciousness! Once again, I remind everyone to refer to each other by their number and if you have any questions, feel free to come to me during Socialization. You are now excused.

Number Fifty, can I speak with you?

Oh... Yeah, that’s fine. Sorry, did I speak too much? I wasn’t sure if I was talking for too long. I don’t usually have that problem.

No, no, you were perfect. I just thought you might be interested in some of the guidelines that Anonymous Friends requires its members to follow.

Oh, okay. I’m not sure if I want to be a member, but I am certainly willing to follow the rules while I’m here.

Wonderful. Firstly, I wanted to say that despite how you arrived here, I am glad you have come.

What do you mean, despite how I got here?

Allow me to explain. You came here under the impression that you may have a romantic interest. Unfortunately, one of the guidelines set in Anonymous Friends is that no Anonymous Friend will become involved intimately (or romantically) with another Anonymous Friend. There is no set rule on how often you come or a requirement that you continue to come here, but since you have a number, you will not date another number.

If she was romantically interested in me, why would she have me come here, knowing that no two Anonymous Friends are allowed to date?

I’m not sure. The woman you talked about was Forty-six and we have not seen her here for many months.

This is very confusing.

I can understand how you must feel. But believe me when I say that we are all very glad you are here and we are very interested in being your Anonymous Friends.

Why do you all go by numbers? I understand wanting to know each other on a deeper level, but no names? I don’t completely understand.

Without names, it is impossible to go into the outside world and discuss the lives of someone you know here. At least, if you do mention something of a number’s life to someone outside Anonymous Friends, they would never know who you are talking about and they could never identify that number on the street. And that is our goal.

Okay. Are there very many rules to Anonymous Friends?

No, there are not. We only ask that you refer to our numbers at all times, refrain from any intimate relationship with another Anonymous Friend, and please do not seek to find an Anonymous Friend outside this building. If you run into another number outside of here, other than a quick glance, you are to act as though they are a stranger. The people you know here are people you only know here. This way, everyone’s privacy is protected, including yours.

You said you haven’t seen her for many months?

Who?

The girl. Number 46. She hasn’t been here?

Not for many months.


Word Count: 1,770