Aggravation Anxiety April Fool Bitchiness Bobby BP Burning in Hell Bush Calme au Blanc Catholic Church Charlotte Cushman Cobalt Blue Confusion Crime Daily Life Dangling Conversations Deep Thoughts Depravity Depression Divertissement Embarrassing Moments Family Friends Frozen Fun Gay Gertrude Stein and a Companion Glass Menagerie Good Things Government Gustav Hate Holidays Hope Hugging the Shoulder Humid City Humor Hurricanes Internets Jesus Justice Katrina Latrine Life in the Quarter Louisiana Mardi Gras Mark Rylance Movie Stars Music Nagin New Orleans News Nighthawks NOLA Partee Obits Our-Leaders-in-Their-Wisdom Outlaw City Personal Photography Pity Post Politics R I P Religion Retirement Righteous Shit Sadness Saints Search-Engine Crap Sex Sick Humor Silly Stuff Southern Decadence Striking Words Stupid Shit Take Me Out Tattoos Tennessee Williams The Human Comedy Theatre Thinking Blogger Award Thrill Me Treme Valhalla War Weekly Photo Challenge Weird Shit
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
An Albee Night
"Do you want some?"
Imagining a night of heartburn, I say, "No."
We start watching NCIS. He's eating his fries. I can hear them crunch as he bites into them. I can smell their french-fry smell.
I ask him how high to preheat the oven.
"Four-hundred-and-fifty degrees. But I'll fix them for you. I can do that for you."
He does. In about twenty minutes, they are done. I go into the kitchen and spread them on a plate. I forgo the ketchup. Because it's in the ketchup, I think to myself, where "here be dragons" of heartburn.
While I am eating the uncovered fries, he sneaks glances at me and smiles.
Later, when I am ready to go to bed, he asks me, "When do you see your doctor again?"
"I don't know. January, February, I'd have to check my calendar. Why?"
"You've got to make him give you something to curb your appetite. You never stop eating. You're big as a house."
My chest starts to burn.