Do You Have Any Lotion?
I WOKE UP ANGRY. I always wake up angry. I eat my breakfast toast angry. I get dressed angry and put on my makeup angry. I adjust my hair angry. I reapply one of my damn press-on nails that always falls off in my sleep angry. Somewhere in the hill of sheets is a mountain of lost press-on nails. I don’t drink coffee or tea or juice. I don’t need a morning pick-me-up because I’m wound up from the start. Anger is my morning fuel and I love how it tastes. It makes me happy.
Every morning, I wake up excited to see how angry I’m going to be throughout the day.
Today I’m angry at Rhawn. That mother F-er. He knows what he did. What he don’t know is what he should have done. What he SHOULD. 👏. HAVE. 👏. DONE. 👏. What he should have done was back the F off and let me do my thing. Oh, like me getting a diet pop out of the fridge in the break room was somehow his problem. He’s crazy. That’s his problem. His wife hates him, too. I know because when we were sleeping together, he told me.
Nah, I’m just playing, we never slept together. We just kissed once at a company holiday party a few years ago. It was around St. Patrick’s Day. I remember because I had green press-on nails. Longest ones I ever had. And that’s why Rhawn and I never hooked up again. That fool knocked one of my nails off with his stupid beer bottle. I also don’t want to fool around with some scrub who steps out on his wife. Even if she hates him, a man’s gotta show respect.
Rhawn ain’t got none of that. Not for anybody. Fool.
And I tell you what, if that mother F-er even thinks about talking to me today or looks at me or even mother F-ing walks past my desk, I’m going to tell him what. You know what. I don’t have to tell you. You want to know, ask Rhawn. He’ll tell you. He tells everybody everything. He’s got a bigger mouth than a blue whale or Julia Roberts.
This train is full of bitches. I can’t even sit down. Too many bitches on this train already sitting. I said, TOO MANY BITCHES ON THIS TRAIN! Hold up, some fool just hit me with his bookbag. I won’t say nothing. I think he’s retarded. He looks like it. Not retarded-retarded but like he’s never lived in the city before. I bet this is his first job. He looks like that kid who plays Spider-Man in all those movies. No, the other one. From the other movies. NO! The other one from the other Spider-Man movies. Jamie Foxx was in a Spider-Man movie? I don’t watch those movies.
I haven’t seen a movie in years. When would you like me to see a movie? I got to work. And you think they pay me all sorts of movie money!? You are a trip. I got bills and a niece to pay for. Yeah, my sister died a few years ago, you remember. Cancer. I don’t know which kind but it was bad. Cuz she’s dead now. You know I miss her. My niece hardly remembers her so I always have to tell her stories about her mama.
Like the time her mama and I got kicked out of that bar up in Bucktown because some bitch put her purse on our table. She said she didn’t know it was ours but we were standing there. She knew. I pulled a chunk of her hair out as Lena—Lena’s my sister—punched her in the face. And the time Lena took me in when Jason and I were going through our divorce. He stole all our money—my money. He never worked. I had twelve thousand-three hundred and forty-two dollars in a savings account. He took it all and disappeared. Then sued me for divorce and actually got to keep the house. The house that I bought! I had to move out of my own house after this mother F-er stole my money. How is that right? Anyway, Lena let me stay with her for eight months until I could get my life back in order. Jason broke my heart. I haven’t trusted one damn man since then. Lena also gave me some money to help me buy that condo I’m in now. It’s in the good area. I know because a Starbucks just opened on the corner where the auto repair shop was. Good thing I take the train because I wouldn’t have a place to get my car fixed.
Lena was a good sister. It was hard seeing her get sick and all. Her baby girl was only two years old when she died. I’ve been raising her like my own for six years now. She plays guitar. She’s real good at it. She tried to teach me the other night but I got quit that shit when one of my press-on nails fell off. Now her guitar rattles because the nail fell into that hole in the guitar and we can’t shake it out. If she keeps it up, she could be a real star. How old do you have to be to start playing in the L stations? She could make some real good money. Maybe get into a college or something.
Oh, hell! I forgot to put lotion on this morning. It’s so cold out and dry. My face is gonna crack open. Lemme ask someone for lotion.
“Excuse me, do you have any lotion?”
“Excuse me, do you have any lotion?”
“Excuse me… Excuse me, do you have any—”
I can’t believe no one on this train has any lotion. Oh, shoot! This is my stop. Hold up. I’ll ask someone on the platform if they have any lotion. It’s so cold and dry! Someone has to have some damn lotion!
Now you see why I’m so angry. Today’s gonna be a good day. Unless that mother F-er Rhawn comes at me. But he always has lotion. But I ain’t gonna ask that mother F-er for any lotion. Not today.
“Excuse me…”
