With that, she slams the door in my face and locks it.
I should at least be able to grab my stuff, so I pull out my keys and try to unlock the door. Instead, I end up pounding on it, shouting, “You changed the fucking locks?”
“Will you keep it down?” Mrs. Hathaway from down the hall asks, poking her head out of the door. “Some of us are trying to watch our shows.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hathaway,” I tell her, but go right back to knocking on the door.
It creaks open as far as the chain will let it and Amy seethes, “Wait down the hall. We’ll let you know when the moving guys are here. Until then, I’d suggest you get a real job and go fuck yourself.”
“Amy, we were talking about getting married. How can you do this?”
“We were talking about getting married when you were getting jobs that I didn’t have to put in quotation marks,” she answers. “I’ve found someone who’s going to be able to provide for me and my lifestyle, not just for a couple of weeks, but for the rest of my life. Do you think I’m really going to give that up to stay with your broke ass?”
“Amy, come on,” I tell her. “I love you. Don’t do this.”
“You know, Cort actually went to college. You might want to think about that someday,” she says and closes the door on me again.
This is the worst day of my life.
* * *
“I don’t see what you’re so upset about,” Alec, one of my workers and probably the only friend I have left, says. “You landed the job today, and come on—we both knew Amy has been sleeping around for a while now.”
I look over at him across the pool table, saying, “You knew this was going on?”
“You didn’t?” he asks. “I told you when the two of you got together that she’s all about the pocketbook, man. I don’t know what you’re doing with yourself that you never saw that, but it’s hardly news. I mean, when the two of you first met, what was the question she asked before she agreed to go on a date with you?”
“Oh, come on, who remembers that sort of thing?” I ask.
“I do,” he says, “and I know for a fact that you do, too. I don’t know why you’re still trying to ignore the facts, man. She’s never been good for you. Plus, she turned you into a withering idiot.”
“Gee, thanks,” I tell him. “We used to be happy, man. It’s only been recently that things have started getting rocky between the two of us.”
“Oh, come off it, man,” he says. “What did she ask you before she agreed to go out on that first date with you?”
I sigh. “She asked what the square footage of my apartment was,” I answer.
“Yeah, and what did she say when you told her?”
He’s got a point here, but I’m really not in the mood to be mad at her yet. That’s at least two pitchers of beer off. Right now, I just want to wallow in my self-pity and dejection.
To make matters worse, I don’t really like beer.
“I don’t remember, I’m telling you.”
“She said, ‘Well, I guess that’ll work for now, but I like my men to have more to offer. You’re lucky you caught me in the middle of a dry spell.’ Does that sound familiar?”
“I know what she said, okay? Can we just talk about something else?” I ask. “How’s Irene? How are the kids?”
“They’re a nightmare,” Alec answers, laughing. “All of them. Listen, you’ve got to find a way to get over this or else you’re going to be worthless for god knows how long.”
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him and I take my shot, knocking the eight ball straight into the corner pocket.
Unfortunately, it’s on the second shot of the game.
“And that’s another twenty bucks for me,” Alec announces. “You want another game, or am I going to overdraw your account?”
“Don’t get too cocky,” I tell him. “You know it takes me a couple of games to get going.”
“Eric,” he says, “this is game number seven. How long does it take you to warm up, really?”
“Shut up,” I tell him. “So you’re telling me that I should just ‘get over it,’ huh? You know, I hadn’t thought of that. It’s so simple, elegant, and I’m sure it’s going to be just that easy.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, “as your friend, employee, and life coach—”
“Yeah, I don’t remember signing up for that last one,” I interrupt.
“As your friend, your employee, and your life coach,” he continues, “I’m here to help. Get out your phone.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Oh, just shut up and grab your phone.”
I pull my phone from my pocket.
“All right,” he says, “take down this number: 555-8928.”
“And whose number am I putting into my phone?” I ask.
“Oh, she’s great. You’re going to love her. Just send her a message.”
“I’ve been single for like four hours,” I tell him. “I’m really not looking for a blind date.”
“Just send her a message,” Alec says. “From what I understand, she’s DTF.”
“What’s her name?” I ask.
“Uh…” He’s looking through his phone which is doing very little to inspire confidence. “You know me with names. She’s in my phone as chick to help Eric get the fuck out of his stupid relationship, but I don’t think that’s her proper name.”
“I’d say that’s a pretty safe bet,” I laugh.
“I don’t know,” he says finally. “Just send her a message.”
“How do you know her?”
“It’s Irene’s friend’s sister,” he tells me. “I’ve never met her or anything, but Irene tells me she’d be right up your alley. She’s driven, dedicated, total control freak. That’s your type, right?”
“Which friend?” I ask.
“Uh…” Alec responds, looking through his phone again. “It’s the blonde one.”
“You’re really making me feel like this is a good decision,” I chuckle. “Really, I’m inspired, and you know what that means…”
“No way,” Alec says. He knows exactly what’s coming. “I’m nowhere near drunk enough to fully appreciate you humiliating yourself.”
“It’s happening,” I tell him as I walk over to the jukebox and pick the one song that bothers Alec more than anything else in the world.
Let me be really clear on that point: It doesn’t just bother him more than any other song in the world, but every other thing in the world.
That said, I don’t enjoy it any more than he does. The only reason I can stand it is because I love seeing him tormented to the point of madness.
After all, what are friends for?
So, the music starts and with the first note, Alec is actually dry heaving. I used to think it was just an exaggeration, but no, I’ve made the mistake of being too close to him when the song starts going.
He ruined a perfectly good pair of shoes.
So, as the first terrible words to Nickelback’s “She Keeps Me Up” come over the speakers, I rack up the balls and tell him, “Double or nothing.”
It’s not fair, but he should be able to turn down the bet. The problem for Alec, though, is that he’s the type who needs to prove that he can handle himself in any situation.
Continually proving that he can’t tickles me.
“You’re on, asshole,” he says and, as long as I can make it through this game without completely screwing myself, I’m about to break even on at least one thing today.
* * *
So, it’s the first day renovating Lady Bits—incidentally, my favorite store name ever—and I’m stuck here waiting for the rest of my crew to show up.
José’s waiting here with me, but everyone else is taking their sweet-ass time showing up. Rather than just standing around looking like we’re the biggest waste of money in the world, José and I start moving things out of the work area.
Jessica, the long-haired, leggy, brunette store owner comes over. Her face is almost identical to Evangeline Lilly’s. Maybe this gorgeous woman could be my rebound to get my head out of this stupid breakup fog.
She’s smiling right until she sees that it’s only two of us.