Sparkling Anus

 

(Skid marks are becoming a nuisance.)

On Sunday, I woke up at 8 a.m. and smoked a Marlboro Red while slurping on a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I watched Fox News as I sat on my sofa. The big story involved Donald Trump. He got arrested again and is now selling photos of his fabulous mugshot. In spite of his legal troubles, Donald’s poll numbers keep going up and up. And this isn’t a huge surprise. Nobody wants the FBI or the DOJ to decide whom they can vote for.

Suddenly, my phone rang. It was the Dragon Lady.

She said, “Are you anglee?”

“No, I’m not angry. Larry said that you found a job.”

“Yes. Maybe I soon stawt work for Samsung.”

“That’s great. What will you be doing for them?”

“It in da education department. But dese days I go to hospitah. I have da stone in my kidneys.”

I sighed heavily. “That’s not good.”

“It velee painful. My body hawt so much.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

There was a pregnant pause. Something was definitely on her mind.

Finally, she said, “Do you have da money you can geeve me?”

“What?”

“I need da money.”

“Sorry. I’m flat broke. You cleaned out the bank account when you ran away. I only have enough to get me and Larry to the next paycheck.”

“Dat OK. Don’t worry.” Then she hung up without saying goodbye.

I don’t believe that my wife actually found a job. She’s probably living off the charity of her family. It’s not easy being married to a loon. Everything is a big bullshit story. Eventually, she’ll come back to the apartment. What other choice does she have? However, things will be different this time. She’ll no longer have access to a single dime. In fact, I plan on giving her 200 bucks a month as pocket money. Not a cent more.

Korea isn’t like America. Getting divorced is extremely complicated in this part of the world. If both parties don’t agree, then you’re pretty well screwed. My only other option is to run away back to America. Yet a potential career at the Waffle House isn’t exactly filling me with joy. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Later in the day, I walked to church with Rice-Boy Larry. We struck up a conversation along the way.

I said, “Your mom called.”

“What did she want?”

“Money.”

“Did you send her any?”

“No. I told her I was broke. But the whole business is very depressing.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“If she returns, I’ll throw her 200 dollars a month to wash the floors and keep the bathrooms clean.”

“Then basically you’re turning her into a cut-rate maid.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do. On the bright side, she’ll have free food and shelter.”

“I don’t want her to come back. I’m finally starting to enjoy my life.”

“Well, nothing is set in stone. Perhaps she’ll stay with her family.”

When we arrived at church, we were both drenched in sweat. So we walked to the bathroom and wiped ourselves off with paper towels. Then I gave my asshole a thorough cleaning. I’m getting older, and sadly I get skid marks from time to time. Having a sparkling anus now seems like the impossible dream. Yet I do the best I can.

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