Domestic Violence and Terrible Playlists

“Do you have a Sharpie?” she asks from behind her laptop.

She is burning songs onto cd’s. She makes terrible playlists, in my opinion. You shouldn’t have indie rock and jazz on the same cd. It’s just sloppy.

Her hair is no less than four different colors now; black in the front, bleached blonde with neon pink tips in the back, and her natural mousy brown hair coming in at the roots. Her glasses slide down her nose and she reaches up and absently pushes them back up with her pinky finger. I don’t know why, but that has always made me crazy. Why her pinky? It’s an awkward movement and it makes me want to staple her frames to her face.

I hand her the marker and she starts doodling on the cd, making large swirling patterns. She accidentally draws on the coffee table and licks her finger to try to rub it off the wood, but it doesn’t budge.

“Sorry,” she apologizes. She looks up at me, her brown eyes peering over her glasses, her goddamned pinky is at her face again and I want to scream or break her little finger. I’m not prone to violence, but this gesture has pushed me over the edge.

“I think you should leave,” I say to her. She blinks quickly, taken aback by what I just said.

“Why? I just got here.”

“Because I feel like punching your face in, that’s why.”

“Jesus Christ, Chad. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You’re what’s wrong with me.” I was being an asshole, but I can’t help it.

She slams her laptop shut, gazing hard at me. I can see the fury building in her eyes, like a bubbling pot of chocolate pudding.

“Fuck you. I don’t need this shit from you. Here.” She throws the cd at my chest. It bounces off and lands on my lap. I look down at it and the swirls.

She’s halfway out the front door, stops, flips me off, and slams the door behind her. My cat, who was laying on the side arm of the couch, wakes up from his nap, looks over at me in a “the fuck is her deal?” way and reaches his front legs out, his claws scratching the fabric.

The sound of the door slamming shut is echoing inside my brain and I want the noise out, so I put the cd in my laptop and listen to a few songs before I stop it.

She really makes lousy playlists.

Advertisements