A Hard World

(I'm trying to hold it together.)

Last night, I got home at 6 p.m. and had a smoke. Then I walked to the grocery store and bought eight donuts for seven dollars. Four of them were filled with jelly, and the others were frosted with sugar and chocolate.

After that, I cooked dinner for Rice-Boy Larry. I fried five eggs in the skillet and served them with hash browns. I took the plate to his room because my son was busy studying for some type of math test. Asians take numbers very seriously.

Then it was time to vacuum the apartment while doing two loads of laundry. I soon noticed several pairs of dirty socks on the floor and some day-old snot paper on one of the tables. For some reason, I simply went ballistic.

I looked at my boy sternly. “I’m tired of picking up your filthy clothes and snotty tissues.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Bullshit. It’s a huge deal. Furthermore, I’ve noticed that you have a habit of drinking half a bottle of water and leaving the plastic container wherever it may fall.”

“Again, not a big deal.”

I sighed heavily. “Son, I’m not Mister Clean. Far from it. And a little bit of clutter falls off my back like rain from a duck’s ass. But I’m worried about disease. Flush your fucking mucus down the toilet and put your dirty clothes in the motherfucking hamper. It’s not that hard. Even a little kid could master those skills. And stop leaving that water laying around. If you aren’t gonna drink it, then dump the remainder in the sink and dispose of the bottle in a proper fashion. You’re creating a powerful Petrie dish of potential illness with your dirty ways.”

“OK! Got it! Anything else?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ve spoken my peace. You are now free to go about your business.”

Later that evening, I removed the clothes from the washer and hung them to dry. Nobody in South Korea owns a dryer. Why? I couldn't tell you. In fact, I have no idea why the locals hold such a grudge against that particular appliance. Anyway, I soon noticed that one of the jackets contained soap stains because the powder hadn’t fully dissolved during the cycle.

Once again, I went ballistic.

I screamed, “Motherfucker!”

Larry came running to the veranda. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s this fucking jacket. It still has soap stains. I’ll have to wash it again.”

Larry shot me the stink eye. “Would you fucking relax? You’re about to give me a heart attack with all your nonsense.”

I nodded in compliance. Then I fixed myself a cup of instant coffee and went downstairs for another smoke. The nicotine helped soothe my jangled nerves, calming the savage beast that was raging inside of me.

At 9 p.m., I walked to my room and enjoyed a quick wank before falling asleep. I had a dream that I was sitting outside with a pastor I once knew. We were sipping on a beverage, and neon signs were flashing all over the place. I told him not to move because I had to buy some food for a planned celebration.

I said, “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

He said, “I’ll be here.”

Yet when I returned, he was gone.

The alarm sounded at 5 a.m., and I made myself a cup of green tea. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. A lawyer from Seoul beat his wife to death with a blunt object. They had been arguing about finances before he finally snapped. Now he’ll have to spend the next two decades in prison. It’s a hard world.

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