JENNIE
My trip to Montana turned out to be a total waste of time, but I could've told you that. The highlight was riding Clyde the Shetland pony. There were two lowlights: The first, listening to Larry Bergman sing and play guitar around the campfire, and the second, his wife Lynette forcing us to applaud, which only encouraged Larry to continue long into the night.
Of course, there was radio silence from Lisa, but a call from Jisoo post-pony ride on Friday seemed to lift my spirits when she told me that Lisa had been in a particularly dark mood since I left. My legs were a bit wobbly at our run-in at the bar, but it was kind of liberating seeing her stupefied face.
I arrive back in San Diego Saturday afternoon with a fresh determination not to think about Lisa and her cold shoulder, the hussy in the bar, sending me to hang with a tuneless cowboy. Shit. This is going to be harder than I thought.
The fridge doesn't offer much inspiration, so I hurtle downstairs to the corner store and get a tub of Kit Kat flavored ice cream.
Spoon in hand, I park myself on the couch, wearing my slouchy track pants and worn t-shirt, and mindlessly eat my way through the entire tub. All the while, staring at my phone and willing it to light up, torturing myself in the process.
When I'm done with that, I try to listen to a podcast, but the upbeat voice irritates me, so I quit that too. With my Netflix queue empty and absolutely nothing left to do, I log in to Tinder, swiping left and right until it gets too depressing to carry on.
What an incredibly productive afternoon of nothing.
God, what did I do before Lisa?!
Grabbing a cushion, I yell into it and then throw myself back onto the couch. I must doze off because I'm woken by my phone buzzing from within the cushions. Rosie lighting up the screen.
ROSIE: Don't get mad.
You should never lead with this line. I'm automatically on edge.
ROSIE: I have someone you should meet. Like a distraction.
ME: Roseanne Park. I'm not going on a date.
ROSIE: Not a date. A mere meeting of minds. Bronte's café across the street in like fifteen minutes!
ME: ???
ROSIE: She's single.
ME: That doesn't work anymore!
ROSIE: Apparently, she's cute, funny, and has a JOB.
ME: Apparently??
ROSIE: She comes highly recommended through a friend of a friend of an acquaintance.
ME: ABSOLUTELY NOT!
ROSIE: She has pets.
ME: ...
ROSIE: PETS! Are you listening, Jen? Not one, but multiple P-E-T-S!
ME: Keep talking...
ROSIE: Two cats, one dog, and a bird.
My fingers hover over the message. Maybe I do need a distraction. At some point, I also really need to say no to Rosie.
ROSIE: I'm going to take your silence as a yes.
ME: Ffs. Okay.
Clearly, not today.
I look down at my outfit and make an assessment. Put on jeans and keep the t-shirt but add a bra and some deodorant.
ROSIE: Yay! And don't even think about wearing your loungewear! Or your Target tennis shoes!
My head swings around, checking the roof for surveillance.
What the fuck?
I groan loudly.
ME: Okay, okay. I'll be there soon.
ROSIE: Boom!
With great reluctance, I tear myself away from the sanctity of the couch and go to my room to get ready. Even though I'm alone, I complain the entire time and vent to my spiky cacti (amazing listeners).
Seven minutes later, I splash some water on my face, brush my teeth, and intentionally bypass the mirror on my way out.
◆◆◆
I'm back.
Rosie is hoovering with a chicken nugget dangling from her mouth and startles when she sees me, flicking off the vacuum.
"What are you doing back so early?" she asks and seems to swallow her nugget whole. She launches into a coughing fit. "It can't have been half an hour. Did Melissa not show?"
"Roseanne Park. Bend over."
She drops the vacuum and covers her butt.
"No. I'm scared."
I walk toward her. She backs up toward the hallway. "Jen... "
"How the fuck could you not tell me that Melissa walks around with a parrot on her shoulder all day?" I fling my arms in the air.
Her cheeks dot with pink. "What all day?"
"So, you knew about the parrot on the shoulder?" I almost shriek.
Rather than distract me from Lalisa, this calamitous meet and greet has just galvanized the fact that she's exactly what I'm after.
"Wait." Rosie blinks. "She turned up with the parrot to the actual café?"
"Yes."
"Ha!" A laugh bursts out of her, and she slaps her hand over her mouth. "Sorry."
"It's a pet-friendly café. Willy, the parrot, repeated everything. I thought I was going mad. By the twenty-minute mark and listening to a repeat of her very bland life story from said parrot, I was out of there, but not before the parrot called me a shithead. Harry, Jamie's husband, is the shithead! Not me!"
Rosie is snorting with laughter in her sleeve. "I love everything about this story."
I roll my eyes. "Melissa was a crap conversationalist, by the way."
"Maybe that's why she brought the bird," Rosie counters and wipes away tears.
I stare at her. "Really?"
Rosie starts giggling. "Come on. It's a little bit funny," she says in a quiet voice and then holds her thumb and index finger together. "Just a teeny bit?"
Now I'm glaring, but my lips twitch slightly. "You're starting to become an annoying flatmate." I edge closer, and she shuffles back. "And you still need to pay, Park."
"No. Okay. Jennie. No! Whatever you want. I'll bend over. Please just don't tickle me."
Rosie screams before I even touch her. "Last time I peed my pants. I had ten glasses of water today. TEN. It won't be pretty. Please. You wouldn't be so cruel."
"Mmm. I think I would." I start to run, and she swivels, sprinting barefoot down the hallway.
"Jennie! No!" This time she screams like a banshee. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the police turned up.
Either way, I've latched onto her leg, and Roseanne Park is going down. Whether or not she pees her pants is entirely up to her.
~~~~~~~~
A/N:
I'm a sucker for Chaennie 😂
