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Conversations With Boyfriends Past
“What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
“Being beautiful. Does it hurt?”
“I don’t really think about it. Honestly.”
“I’d just stare in the mirror all day long if I was beautiful.”
“Gross. I mostly avoid mirrors. You wanna smoke a little weed?”
“Do you need to be high to enjoy my company?”
“I need to be high to enjoy my own company.”
“I’m tired. If I smoke, I’ll pass out. Actually. I might make some coffee. You want some?”
“No, but I’ll have a cup of tea.”
“Right. Right. You don’t drink coffee. You too good for coffee. Like the Brits.”
“I don’t know that getting diarrhea from coffee means I’m too good for it.”
“Tea is better anyway. You’re gonna live forever.”
“I don’t want to live forever. I’m not even sure I want to grow old.”
“Stop it.”
“What? All old people say ‘don’t grow old’ and then when you say you opt for the alternative people get all upset.”
“You’re going to live a long, long life. With multiple husbands. But I’ll be your first ex husband.”
“What do you wanna do for lunch?”
“What are you in the mood for?”
“Something good.”
“What about tonight?”
“I have a gig.”
“Will I see you after?”
“Probably not. I’ll be late.”
“You don’t want me there cramping your style when other men hit on you?”
“Ha. Not really what’s happening. It’s work. And networking. And it’s not that glamourous.”
“What about next weekend?”
“I’m on the road somewhere in Pennsylvania.”
“How many guys hit on you after a show.”
“Usually none.”
“Usually?”
“Yes. Usually. I don’t know what you think my life is. I do a show, usually for couples and older people, and then I go back to my room in a below average hotel, smoke weed and watch Seinfeld re-runs.”
“You’re lying. I bet you get hit on all the time.”
“I really don’t. And if I do, if usually by someone I wish wasn’t.”
“What if a really good looking guy approached you after the show?”
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Jealously isn’t flattering.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Are you gonna grill me every time I go on the road.”
“Is it so wrong of me to care? Are we hanging out tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we can. After my meeting with my writing partner.”
“Just another guy who’s in love with you.”
“OH MY GOD. We’ve been through this. Nick is NOT in love with me.”
“Right, right. You’re in love with him.”
“You are totally smitten with him. Your eyes glow up when you mention him.”
“We’re friends and writing partners. I look up to him. He’s the whole reason I have a writing manager. And I care about him, but that doesn’t mean I’m in love with him.”
“If he leaned in to kiss you, you wouldn’t kiss him back?”
“There’s something wrong with you.”
“No. There’s something wrong with him. Why wouldn’t he want to be with you. You already get along, and you’re way better looking than him.”
“Most of my friends are guys. Just because you never had platonic women friends doesn’t meant mean it’s not possible.”
“You don’t get it.”
“No. You don’t.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad. I’m annoyed. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I guess you’re right about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That it does hurt to be beautiful. When other people are so goddamn annoying about it.”
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