Mr. Mafia Man

Chapter II: The Call

While I was deleting Free Food Girl's number I got a phone call from my mom. It was three in the morning and I was tired but, come on, she's my mom, I had to answer.

"So sweetie how's everything?"

"Mom it's fuc - fudging three am. What do you want?"

"I'm just checking up on my daughter. Is that wrong?"

"But what if I was sleeping, Mom?"

"You weren't though."

"But I could have been."

"But you weren't."

Silence.

"Okay Mom what do you want?"

"Well your step-dad and I have our anniversary coming up and we already booked a hotel room but the problem is my poor little Cosmo can't be left alone like that so can you please, please, please dog sit for like two days while your step-dad and I rough it up in the hotel room?"
I knew it was too good to be true. My mother couldn't be calling "just to check up on her daughter." She always had an ulterior motive. 

Now a lot of people right now would be like hell to the no, this girl thinks she can call me at three in the morning asking me to dog sit and I'm gonna say yes? You must be batshit crazy. To which I say you don't know the first thing about my mother. If you did you would know that the thing that my mother loves above all else is that goddamn dog, Cosmo. 

Cosmo is a yippity-flip of a dog who thinks he owns the world when in reality he only barks at it. And he always is barking at it. And I mean always. My mother coddles him like a baby but he is a demon. 

The second thing you should know about my mother is that she makes phone calls at the most inconvenient times. Middle of the night is the most common. On the rare occasion that she calls in the day time it is usually when I'm nursing a hangover, having an über important job interview, or am sleeping due to jet lag or the aforementioned hangover. So technically it's not you who is batshit crazy, it's my mother.

But I always say yes to the job because a) my mother is married to my step dad who is loaded and thus has a big house with lots of food so I can eat myself into a food coma and b) we kinda have this agreement; I dog sit when she wants to take a roll in the hay with my step-father and she won't tell me the details of the aforementioned hanky-panky with my step-father. A win-win situation I think. Plus Cosmo has his own house and maid so I think the dog will be fine.

I sigh "Yeah I'll do it. You still have Anne though right?"

"Oh yeah," She replies.

"So we're done here right?"

"Yeah pretty much. And bythewaytheresgoingtobeaguystayinginourhoisewhileyouarethere. Okay, bye!" Click. She hung up.

I continue to hold the phone up to my ear so long that the automated voice comes on and alerts you to the fact that the person you were trying to reach has disconnected from the call.

Did my mother just say I was going to be sharing the house with someone? That means I can't go skinny dipping in the pool. I can't walk around in my pajamas all day. Heaven forbid I had to be presentable. Nuh-uh no way was I standing for this one.

I called my mother again. The wireless customer you are trying to reach is currently unavailable, please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeeeep. Hang up.

Again. The wireless customer you are trying to reach is currently unavailable... Hang up.

Again. The wireless customer you are trying... Hang up.

Again. The wireless customer... Hang. Up.

AGAIN! The... HANG THE FUCK UP.

Who does my bitch ass mother think she is?

She can't just call me at three A.M., throw a last minute trip on me, then tell me a male will be staying with me, and then not answer her phone when I inevitably have questions. And boy do I have a fuckton of questions.

Trembling slightly with anger, I pick up the car keys, and jam them into the keyhole to start the engine. The longer I sit there the angrier I will get and I need to get home before I see red and crash my car into a tree. It's happened twice before and both times the tow truck guy was creepy. When I pull into the parking lot of my apartment building I slam my head down on the steering wheel hard enough to activate the horn. Then I proceed to sit there until somebody comes out to yell at me.

It's been a long night.

Word Count: 800

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"Only 800 words?" You gasp from behind your device screen, your face contorted in a mask of horror. "Only 800 words?" Nothing can accurately describe the shock you are experiencing right now. "Who does this author thi-"

I pop into your room and suddenly you find yourself speechless. "Who do I think I am? I think I am pretty awesome thank you very much. And," I continue. "If you think writing 800+ on your own time with no pay is easy and enjoyable, how about you try it." I slowly vanish. The last thing you see of me is my scowl. I'm like the Cheshire Cat but less friendly. You are now in love with me. (I don't make the rules, fools.)

-3AMmayhem