“Bratwurst,” Goldie corrects.
“—and the Scorned having that weird mascot that looks like an angry chicken leg,” he finishes.
“The Fireballs used that exact meatball when they did a contest to find a new mascot a few years ago,” I tell him. “If management told you they’re seriously considering it, they’re either lying or they’re doing some kind of joint promo with the baseball team.”
We all look at his crotch again.
The meatball doesn’t look any better on second glance. It’s flaming and angry, shaking its fists.
“Maybe it’s a pound of meat,” he says.
“Why don’t you use a hammerhead shark?” Goldie says.
Easy answer. “Too much like Miami.”
“A jackhammer?”
Fletcher’s still shaking his head at his junk. “They should do a hamburger named Quarter. The Quarter Pounder.”
“Absolutely not,” Goldie says. “A Quarter Pounder is never enough beef.”
That does me in.
I laugh.
And I realize as I start to laugh just how long it’s been since I laughed.
I might be a fucked-up disaster at the moment, but at least I have my friends.
13
Ziggy
I read somewhere oncethat you shouldn’t delay the inevitable.
That the anxiety from pushing something off only makes it worse in the end.
And I’m completely ignoring that advice today.
I texted Mom back a quickSorry, got distracted, aren’t they beautiful?about Abby Nora and the baby after Miranda told me that our parents were headed up into the mountains today for a trip to a winery and to visit friends at their weekend house.
I can put off telling my parents that my best friend and I broke up.
Maybe they’ll just subtly put the clues together. Or maybe Abby Nora’s mother will say something to mine. Or maybe I’ll randomly get a job offer in Napa for a job I haven’t applied for, and I can run away and not deal with it at all.
Miranda shakes her head at me as we stand in the office that will be mine come Monday. “You should just tell them.”
“I’m waiting for the best moment.”
“Which is?”
“When I won’t cry but when I’ll also look so sad that they won’t ask too many questions.” I cross around the stately cherry desk to sit at the tall desk chair that has ten thousand levers and more cushions than any chair should have. Isn’t one for your butt and one for your back standard? This has an individual cushion for each butt cheek and rows of cushions on the back that all seem to have their own controls.
“Is it just me, or is this chair too much?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s Dad’s subtle clue that you’re his daughter and everyone needs to be nice to you.”
“So I should switch it out with the receptionist’s desk and tell him I did it so that the team looks extra successful because looking successful is the first step in being successful.”
