1. Lisa Fitzgerald saves her tomato aspic from dinner at her grandmother’s house and throws it at a Civil War memorial fountain.
2. Claude Jennings whispers to his friend during his wife’s toast at her sister’s retirement party.
3. Alexis Monroe hides the special toilet seat cushion required by her day care provider’s son, following his hernia operation.
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3 toed sloth is my biggest animal crush.
• [point]
1 person who I told this to (Sherry!)
4 people Sherry told (Todd, Linda, Agnes, Troy)
1 gym teacher who found out (Mr. Stallworth)
5 babies I wanted to have with Mr. Stallworth, but he’s already married with a baby of his own
9 drawings of 3 toed sloths I made for Mr. Stallworth but did not send
2 times I watched Mr. and Mrs. Stallworth sleeping from outside their bedroom window
6 pairs of red athletic shorts that Mr. Stallworth has that I want for my altar
5 classes I got Bs in my freshman year before Mr. Stallworth told everyone about my sloth crush
3 kids who teased me about my sloth crush
5 years I will wait until I burn down each sloth crush teaser’s house with techniques I learned from Backdraft
8 is the number infinity standing up and I will stand up to bullies forever
9 th grade is the worst grade ever
7 th grade sucked too, but for different reasons
9 girls went to a party, and I wasn’t invited
3 times my dad and I watched Predator 2 with Danny Glover the night of the other party
2 times my dad had to fast forward Predator 2 because of sex scenes
3 boxes of peanut brittle we ate with chocolate milk
8 wishes I made when Danny Glover fought the Predator at the end
4 times we talked about Mom during the first viewing of Predator 2
6 men Mom had been with since I was born besides my dad (said my dad in a sort of kidding voice)
2 Vietnamese brothers I have (said my dad but totally joking because he dodged the draft)
6 handball tournaments I would have won if I had 2 Vietnamese brothers
4 skin that my brothers would have had before the brisk we would have given them
3 brothers I really have who don’t have foreskin because we’re Catholic
[interchangeable]
3 brothers who don’t mind my sloth crush
8 three-toed sloths that I want to start my special sloth ranch in Alabama
3 acres for each sloth
2 people to run the special sloth ranch: me and Mr. Stallworth
7 kinds of food we would feed them: licorice, hay, baby mice, Grape Nuts, bamboo, chicharones, and black mission figs
9 times me and Mr. Stallworth would do it in the sloth tree while they were off eating baby mice in the special sloth cafeteria
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I am 7-years old and my neighbor takes care of me while my mother works nights.
Mostly he watches TV, but never too loud because that would keep me awake.
We don’t talk much.
I hardly see him at all because my mother puts me to bed, and then he comes over.
One night though I hear him on the phone. I can’t make out the words until he yells, “There’s no such thing as the northern lights.”
He hangs up and turns to see me behind him.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” he asks.
“I had a bad dream.”
“Do you want some milk?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to call your mom?”
“No.”
“Well, come watch TV until you get tired.”
I find a place on the couch among the unfolded blankets.
“Do you like Johnny Carson?” he asks. “You’ll like Johnny Carson. He’s funny.”
We watch, and when he laughs I laugh too, not knowing what anything means.
Soon I am tired, and he tells me I should go back to bed.
He walks me to my room and stands at the door as I get under the covers.
When he sees that I’m settled, he goes back to his chair.
Finally, as I’m drifting off to sleep, I remember that I’ve seen the northern lights–once the summer before when my mom had the night off and we stayed up past my bedtime. I want to tell my neighbor, but I am tired and I don’t know what he’ll say if I tell him he is wrong.
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Breathe out of your mouth.
When in doubt, lean into it.
Pace yourself.
No harnesses.
Make eye-contact before you pivot.
Keep it clean…unless he wants it messy. If he wants it messy, then make it as messy as you can stand. Then, when it can’t seem to get any messier, keep going.
His safety word is Raskolnikov.
Fast beforehand.
Pinch anything but the jowls.
Hum when your mouth is on things.
Make sure to distribute your attention evenly, never giving yourself fully to one person…unless it’s him.
No Cockney accents.
Whatever you’re doing, make sure he can see it.
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CONTRIBUTED BY P.R. GRIFFIS (Austin, TX)
At ease, Private.
(assuming parade rest) Yes, Drill Sergeant.
Private, I’m afraid I’ve got some very sad news for you.
Drill Sergeant, you aren’t sending me home because I’m patently unfit for military service, and it’s stunningly obvious to everyone here that I’ve made a life-destroying mistake, Drill Sergeant?
(Blinking, a crease forming between brows) You a college boy or something, Private?
Yes, Drill Sergeant! Although the Private failed out his sophomore year and…
You cracking wise with me, Private?
No Drill Sergeant! The Private is prepared to receive the very sad news Drill Sergeant.
We received word, Private, that your grandmother died last night at approximately twenty-two hundred hours. All of us here in Training Battalion 432 are very sorry for your loss. The chaplain will be by later to issue you formal bereavements. I just wanted to tell you first, so you could prepare yourself.
Thank you, Drill Sergeant. The Private appreciates you telling him… me… Drill Sergeant.
You don’t seem terribly upset there, Private.
Drill Sergeant?
I mean, I tell you your goddamned Nana died, and you’re standing there like a rock. You got deep-seated emotional issues there, Private? Are you a goddamned sociopath?
Does the Drill Sergeant know whether it was mom’s side or dad’s side, Drill Sergeant?
(Standing up quickly, squinting like Clint Eastwood in… well, every single one of his movies) What the fuck did you just ask me, Private?
Mom’s… or Dad’s… side? Drill Sergeant?
(Getting up in face such that campaign hat is poking just where the bridge of the nose meets the eyebrows) You filthy, worthless puke. You better not be telling me you played favorites with your goddamned Nanas.
Drill Sergeant… the Private’s… that is… my grand… or, well, the Private’s nana… one of them lived out of state, Drill Sergeant. The Private didn’t get to see her all that often.
(Now pecking at the bridge of the nose with the brim of the campaign hat, which hurts) You don’t think a Nana’s love can cross state lines? Is that what you’re telling me, maggot?
No, Drill Sergeant!
Are you calling me a liar, Private?
No, Drill Sergeant!
Anybody who’d play favorites with their Nanas would cheat at solitaire, Private. And that’s the lowest goddamned individual there is.
(Trying desperately not to think about how Jeffrey Blumgardner back in high school used to refer to masturbation as “playing solitaire,” trying desperately not to think about how one might cheat at masturbation (trying especially hard now not to imagine the near-apoplectic Drill Sergeant cheating at solitaire)) Yes… Drill… Sergeant.
What’s so goddamned funny, Private? You want me to send you up to the psych ward? I just told you your Nana died, and here you act like you’re at a goddamn Henny Youngman concert.
The private is maybe overcome with grief, Drill Sergeant.
Bullshit. You couldn’t give two shits about your Nana. They probably could’ve both died in a terrorist attack and it wouldn’t bother you a bit.
No, Drill Sergeant!
You calling me a liar again, Private?
I’m… that is, the Private isn’t… attempting to… that is, the Private doesn’t want to suggest…
You a goddamned lawyer or something, Private? Spit it out. Yes or no, do you love your Nana?
Yes, Drill Sergeant!
Then process your grief in a healthy goddamned fashion. Sound off!
Drill Sergeant?
Cry, goddamnit!
Drill Sergeant?
Have you lost your ability to understand American English? Am I speaking goony goo-goo? You understand what crying is, don’t you?
Yes, Drill Sergeant!
Then what’s your malfunction, numb nuts? I’m ordering you to weep cathartically and unabashedly until I feel better. Until I feel cleansed of my grief.
The Private’s confused, Drill Sergeant.
No shit you are.
The Private thought the military eschewed all non-rage-type emotions, Drill Sergeant. The Private is fairly shocked that the Drill Sergeant didn’t maybe say something like I lost my Nana in Vietnam, but you don’t see me crying, do you? That’s ‘cause I had my tear ducts surgically removed, or something like that, Drill Sergeant. Also, the Private hasn’t ever had to cry on cue, Drill Sergeant, and the Private is starting to get performance anxiety.
I’m going to start counting, Private. When I get to three, you better be emoting like you’ve never emoted before.
Drill Sergeant?
One.
The Private… that is…
Two.
The Private would like to request an extension…
Two and a half.
Such that he can maybe drum up some old fond memories of his dear sweet departed Nana…
Two and three quarters…
Did you say whether it was mom’s mom or dad’s mom, Drill Sergeant?
Three.
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