He pauses. “Well, my loss,” he says.
“Yes,” I agree, sounding suddenly emboldened, remembering my love notes and all the passion I poured into them.
“It’s good that we’re talking now though. I mean…” His voice trails off.
“What?” I ask. He sounds…pensive?
“Can I be honest?”
“I’d expect nothing less at this hour of the day.”
“Your email woke me up. But I don’t mind. You’re reallyfunny.”
“So, did you call me for jokes, then?”
“Why? Do you have any?”
“Not on the fly like this. I, too, just woke up from a nap, so I’m not as fresh as I’d like.”
“Ahh. Hence the rhyming.”
“Yes. My conversational skills are rather subpar immediately post-respite. Let’s be real though. I’m sure you and—what’s your partner’sname? Something Facecock?—I’m sure you guys spend most of your days yucking it up in your fancy midtown office, no?”
“Ha!” he exclaims. “No, not exactly. GordonAycock is my father’s protégé. Sort of like the son hewisheshe had.”
“What?” I ask. “No way. First of all, I will not indulge you in any mournful-sounding conversation about a man namedGordon, unless we’re joking about his sorry-ass life. For example, we can safely assume thatGordonlives above his parents’ garage.Gordonhas never gone past second base with a girl, and that girl was most definitely his sister.Gordonspent most of high school stuffed in a locker. I’m just saying.Protégéis a nice word forkiss-ass, and if you have Daddy issues as a result, it’s only because my manGordonis probably a hard-core nerd.”
“You don’t even know.”
“I’ve seen hispicture, remember?”
“What? No. How?”
“On your website.”
“Ohhh. Yes, of course.”
“And let me tell you, you havenothingto be jealous of.”
“Well, I never said I wasjealous.”
“Please, you’re as jealous as a middle-school girl watching her best friend get fitted for a training bra.”
“See? This is what I mean! Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“With what?”
“You’ve got jokes! That thing you said about me cheating off you in Spanish literally put tears in my eyes.”
“Well, you’re welcome. And as for Gordy, if you want your office to be funnier, just picture him naked. Hedefinitelywears tighty-whities.”
“Oh, a hundred percent.”
“Withskidmarks.”
“Damn. That’s harsh.”
“The truth is often that way,” I say. “For real though? If it wasn’t for laughter, I would never have made it through this week. Or this month. Or the past six months, to be honest with you. See, me and Netflix have a deal. As soon as I feel down about anything, I have to watch one full episode ofSchitt’s Creek. It’s only twenty minutes. If I don’t feel at least a little better after the episode, I have the full permission of the universe to leap off my fire escape into traffic.”
