Man Up! It’s Time

Mary has the same mixed emotions we all have, and I’m not sure anything Brandan could say would reassure her if her trust issues are still a raging fire, but she did make a lovely bride, unlike groom Brandan. Whatever designer first decided that maroon and pink made for an elevated fashion statement for men, in crushed velvet no less, should suffer the fate of those ill-considered originators of drop-crotch parachute pants for anyone except MC Hammer; trucker hats besides anyone except the MAGA crowd; jumpsuits for men or as they were better termed, full-length tuxedo onesies; wide-collared shirts that barely looked good on Burt Reynolds and mock turtleneck vests. Angela’s dictum on finances and shared responsibilities was exactly what the traditional fatherly advice to a son would be. “I know you have the ability to do this. I’ve seen you do things for her, with her, and because of her at the age of 23 than any of the men I’ve dated all the up to the age of 40,” giving him the confidence he needed to give Mary. The mayor officiates a slightly truncated ceremony, but they are finally married, and all is well until a fog fills the sky. It’s swarming insects that are attracted to lights and are aggregating to mate. What do you call two birds in love? Tweethearts.

If I Knew It Was Going To Be This Hard . . .

Wayne Jr definitely looks like his father’s son, and he seeks Dad’s advice on Holly’s 180-degree turn-around on living in South Africa. It’s the load-shedding, the inactivity, and the isolation that is affecting her - all the issues she knew she would be confronting so Wayne Sr., asks, “If she knew his, why did she marry you”? Wayne Jr feels betrayed. “She doesn’t have such a bad life as she thinks she has. She’s married now and can’t just throw in the towel every time she has a bit of a hiccup and wants to go back to her home country. I didn’t know it was so freakin’ complicated to marry an American; honestly, I didn’t. I have to convince her to stay since she doesn’t know what all is involved to move.” Well Wayne, when you were away those 10 hours every day to provide for your wife like a good husband; Holly, a woman whose introspection seems to be muzzy at best, had way too much time to consider her situation in an emotionally biased manner and will resist you trying to change it. Going back to the place you proposed to re-kindle those romantic feelings is as futile as is your plaintive, “Try and be happy with me at least.” Holly will never understand why it’s not as easy for him to pick up and leave as it is for her. Holly insists she’s “compromised everything. How am I supposed to have a decent life here”? Cue Wayne to misstep into a culvert of tactlessness when he ventures to opine, “Sometimes I wish it never happened, honestly.” Holly fires back, “You should have married a South African person. You’re an idiot; I’m done!” And Holly does what Holly does best in South Africa – run away without any sense of direction, both literally and metaphysically. With head in hand, Wayne laments, “My world feels like it’s crumpled down.” Of course, I talk to myself. Sometimes I need expert advice.

“Merry Muthaph-ckkin’ Xmas

Santa stabled his reindeer in a barn at the North Pole at the end of his shift plying them with snacks and beverages, but Yohan’s in the car with Daniele and they’re playing a verbal tennis match. “Now what do we do”? Daniele is despondent and numb. Yohan counters, “Do you want me to leave today? “Is that what you want to do”? “No, is that what you want to do”? “I want you to be my husband, but you can do whatever you want to do so tell me what you want to do.” “I’m tired; so, I’ll go to my mom’s today.” “Ok.” So, after distributing gifts he didn’t fund or select for the neighborhood kids, Yohan dismantled his Santa costume at the crib to boogie on out as threatened. “She doesn’t respect or support me. I’m out of here; I’m moving out.” Taking all his new brightly colored clothes with him? “You’re only going to take the clothes before I started buying all your clothes. Why am I being this way? Because you said I don’t do anything for you.” “I’m taking all the clothes!” "No, I bought all of this.” “I’m taking the clothes.” “Leave the hangers; I need the hangers.” No more wire hangers! Daniele is disturbed and moving around while Yohan considers his rationale, “She is being very selfish, very cheap.” “Don’t dare take the Yankee hats,” she shrieks, “No no no no no no. Those are mine. Listen to me. Those are mine!” “Then I’m taking the dog, Gizmo; I bought him.” “You’re not going anywhere with MY dog!” Devastatingly calm, Yohan says, “It’s like that. You bought your stuff; I bought the dog.” “GIVE ME THE DOG!” I WANT EVERYONE OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW. My first Xmas in the DR is the worst Xmas in my life*.”* It’s beginning to look a lot like fuck this.

Thank You For Your Cervix 📷

And who doesn’t love a milkshake? At the surrogacy center, Kenny the Gringo, draws the chop shop version of a mash-up part airline/part Shell gas station prefab toilet for grumpy old men whose Medicare relegated them to a Japanese capsule hotel-sized room that wouldn’t feel out of place in the Shibuya. He’s got a cracked recliner within reach of X-tra strength Charmin, a sickly-sweet room spray from the Dollar Store next to a Lowe’s toilet roll holder, and a cantilevered screen that only gets the local news and reruns of the Wendy Williams Show to help him bang it out and beat his meat, or in the idiom of his partner, Armando, masturbate; while the Mexicano gets a greige suite - even it doesn’t look like a behind-the-velvet rope exclusive nightclub backroom of diamond chandeliers, plush velvet, tons of champagne and the pulsating beat of an inflammatory percussion instrument. They may not be together physically, but they are messaging each other to whip it, whip it good, for the sake of each other’s egg plants – pardon the pun.

You Sound Better With Your Mouth Closed

Sarper is creeping around in that underground vault with that boxer’s robe like the meth he’s snorted is starting to cause paranoia. He’s doubling down on his own macho myth while Shekinah is calmly disengaging herself. “He’s the one who’s done the 180 and made it seem like I don’t want kids.” His lean face is silhouetted as he gesticulates, “She has to be a little more flexible; I’m bending myself.” “We talked about this on our first date. I don’t know why you totally switched gears on me with this.” “I said you what I want, okay, and you didn’t accept. That’s the point. Let’s do like this.”
She cuts him off, “No, let’s not do like this.” “You don’t even cry. You’re on the verge of losing me and you don’t cry.” The bigger the dick, the smaller the penis. “Is that what’s upsetting you so much right now”? “If you’re going to carry on like this, you’re going to lose me.” “Do you think I care? It will take two days for me to forget, ok”? You were almost my knight in shining armor. Turns out you were just a prick in tin foil. “Thanks for letting me know that I mean that little to you.” “Do you want me to be with other people to forget you”? She’s not even listening. “My friends and family were right.” “About what”? “You.” “What did they say”? “Coming here was such a mistake. I now know why you haven’t had any relationships. It’s really clear now. I’ve been through so much in my life that I’m literally not surprised by anything anymore.” Sarper isn’t as waterproof and bulletproof as Shekinah is in her black insulated leather-looking one piece, but he hoists her with her own petard, and since he’s admitted he’s an asshole and says stupid shit when he gets mad, he will regret this royally. “I know you are a very bad past. You pick up very wrong guys.” She serves that fillip back,” Now, you’re one of them.” "Really”? He leans forward using his smile as a battering ram, “You are threatening me? Book your flight then. ASAP.” “Ok, I will.” If only closed minds came with closed mouths.