Essays and Vingettes

2. Hangry

The high pitched woman's voice whined through the radio "... not the first time these bands have ever collaborated, but it's the first time they've ever done a song TOGETHER!"

Ashley could feel her eyes bug out as she stared at the radio station. She snorted and shook her head, her tired brain certain that she must have misheard that. But her trustworthy auditory memory replayed the soundbyte for her with perfect clarity.

Seriously? Does she even know what 'collaborate' means? I can't believe she just did that! No one is that dumb, except maybe her. She quickly changed the station, but the soothing sounds of her favorite rock song were not enough to knock out the memory of that public statement of stupidity. Thankfully a red light gave her long enough to post angrily about it to Facebook, though she knew she shouldn't while in the car. She wasn't actively driving, so it couldn't be that bad right?

She spent the next several minutes of the drive going over the moment in her head, appalled that the station had hired someone like that. Honestly! "You keep using that word, I do not think it means what you think it means." She sighed, People should NOT use words they don't actually know the definition of. She was probably blonde. And skinny. Ashley didn't like her one bit.

Her exit loomed on the left and it felt like all of her remaining energy drained through the brakes on her car. By the time she was stopped in her driveway, her whole body was tired. She leaned her head back against the headrest and rubbed her eyes with one hand. It had been a long day.

The last contract day of the semester, she had spent the last four hours doing what she sarcastically called the Classroom Cleanout Workout: Move every textbook from one cabinet to another, reach down and pull up every piece of masking tape off of the floor, reach up and pull posters off of the wall, move textbooks again because of misinformation, curse a little bit, watch a youtube video, post angrily to facebook about how much this sucks, repeat until muscle fatigue sets in.

She groaned and levered herself out of the car. She then gathered up her purse, backpack, jacket, extra bag, lamp, and two pretty silent auction baskets and trudged her way up to the house.

She managed to get the screen door open by juggling her armload, but when she went to open the door, she found it suprisingly locked. Her brain was quickly giving in to the fatigue she'd been fighting the entire drive home. She leaned her head against the door. I guess he didn't unlock it like he should have. She thought about getting out her keys and opening the door, but that seemed to require entirely too much effort on her part, so she scratched pitifully on the door and meowed. An odd action to some, but to her roommate, it was a signal to move. Then she followed it with a full knock, knowing he probably had his headphones in.

The cacophony of two full-throated dogs barking about a stranger at the door made her wince, she'd forgotten about how her dogs would react to a knock. Stupid dogs

Thankfully it didn't take long for her roommate, Nick, to get to the door. She shouldered her way past the canines and headed gratefully toward her room to drop off her massive armload. On the way, poor Nick asked "How was your day?"

He was just trying to be nice, but Ashley couldn't stop the glare she shot over her shoulder. Thankfully, he was a smart man and backed off of that topic pretty quick.

Not too smart though, because less than a minute after she'd dropped her burden on the bed, he called her over to look at the art she'd commissioned.

She took a deep breath for calm He's trying to be nice. You can be nice too. Even if he didn't give her a chance to transition from work-brain to home-brain.

And the art truly was amazing. What had been a small idea bouncing around her brain, he'd turned into a stunning piece that just captured the eyes like a good magic trick. The deeper you look, the more you like it. Unless it's less than two minutes after you've just gotten home from a physically and emotionally draining day. Then it's "pretty" but it's "missing something".

She ground her teeth That wasn't nice at all. She told herself, then listened to herself growl back. That was around the time she realized it was nigh on 6:00 in the evening and she hadn't eaten since noon.

The growly voice in her head that was unhappy with the uneducated radio person, the way-too-boisterous canines, the just-trying-to-be-nice roommate... that was the voice of Hangry.

"Ugh..."

Hangry is a completely different person from Ashley. Ashley is always nice, always positive. She's encouraging and warm. She'll listen to a stranger's woeful tale in the checkout line and wish them the best.

Hangry hates everyone.

Everyone.

Hangry does not have patience. She does not care if your day has been awful. And she uses words that would make a sailor blush.

What followed next were fifteen minutes of appeasing the Hangry before she ruined another night with her irritability.

Ashley dashed to the kitchen as quickly as courteously possible. Her eyes quickly scanned the shelves and refrigerator, while her tired brain tried to fend off the Hangry.

Grapes? Gone. Avocados? They've gone bad! Nooo!

By luck her eyes chanced upon tortillas. Hope sprang up in her chest, now if only... yes! There's still some cheese in the fridge!

Hangry-Ashley encouraged her to move faster, but her tired body had a hard time keeping up. Half way through the prep of a simple quesadilla, unfortunate Nick walked into the kitchen.

"I thought you wanted me to make something?" he asked, puzzled and maybe a little hurt.

Hangry snapped 'What? Do you think this little bit is all I'm going to eat tonight? Seriously? Look at me. I'm waay bigger than society thinks I should be. Obviously I'm not going to subsist on two tortillas and a half a cup of cheese, you idiot! I'd starve!'

Thankfully, Ashley had just enough willpower to keep these words from actually escaping her mouth. "I do. This is just a snack" she managed to growl, unable to look at him. If she dared make eye contact, she'd lose control of Hangry.

She popped the snack in the microwave. Sixty seconds to go and she'd have her satisfaction. She could feel Hangry rubbing her hands together and muttering 'Yeeesss...my preccciioouusssss..."

The microwave's beeper had never in her life sounded more pleasant. She popped the door open and reached in for the cure, but the intense heat of the porcelain plate stopped her.

Foiled! Hangry gnashed her invisible teeth and muttered oaths. Ashley reassured her that just two feet away was an oven mitt that would solve their problem. Hangry was temporarily mollified.

She stretched her left hand out, inches away from her salvation, when Nick, poor unlucky Nick, stepped up to the sink.

The sound of rage Hangry snarled was demonic. Only a deep breath managed to keep it , contained. Ashley glared at the poor man, who was filling the measuring cup in order to make the dinner she'd requested before leaving school.

He's doing this for us. He's being nice. We can't be mean to him for being nice. We can wait, she told herself.

Nooooo!! Hangry cried and thrashed, but Ashley held firm. She managed to answer Nick's questions about cooking without insulting him.

Finally he moved away from the sink and her path was clear! The oven mitt was hers, the quesadilla was hers!

She sprinted from the kitchen for the safety of her room where she could assuage the hunger of the beast away from the dangers that social interaction provided.

As the first bite of not-quite-as-hot-because-she-had-to-wait-for-it quesadilla slid down her throat, both she and Hangry let out a simultaneous sound of relief.

Hangry, satisfied with the results, quieted down to rest in the back of Ashley's mind where she began to lay plans for tomorrow's episode.

Poor Nick.