Essays, Interviews, Observations, Pop Culture, Stories, and other Dodginess

Kissing Her Sister

Posted on June 23, 2015
depeche_mode_black_celebration_tour_shirt

I found this Depeche Mode 1986 Black Celebration concert T-shirt at a Chicago thrift store. It’s the same one Shailene Woodley wore in White Bird in a Blizzard. 

It’s a little tight, even on my slender frame, but I still wore it to Mia Lucy’s party in Ukranian Village. Celice was there. I met her a few years ago when I dabbled in theater. I remember during play rehearsal one night – Celice won my heart when she wore a bandanna as a shirt.

We dated briefly. Celice was a better dancer than an actress, and she had the legs to prove it. She was the only girl who ever let me shave her legs, although it wasn’t my idea, she wanted me to.

“Hello Celice, it’s good to see you at Mia Lucy’s party,” I said.

She shrugged and said hi to my friend Aidan. I don’t think Celice ever saw Aidan’s penis, but she called him Cookie Dick.

I walked with Aidan to the kitchen where Chicago recluse author Clive Javanski was hanging out with some other assholes and two beautiful women. Clive took in instant like to my shirt and compared it to his very tight-fitting Smiths “Hatful of Hollow” tee that he sometimes wore. Bullshit, I told him, mine was better. He agreed. He signaled for me and Cookie Dick to step outside for a hit of something illegal, I assume, when I heard two words – words I’ve heard countless times but never so beautiful sounding.

“Hi Liffey.”

It was one of the two kitchen girls. Actually it was Keira, who I didn’t recognize. Keira was Celice’s sister, younger by a few years. She wore cute summer dress (better legs than Celice) and a Christian rock tee, even though she wasn’t Christian.

“Shailene Woodley – in that movie,” she said. “I loved that dance scene with her and her boyfriend.”

Keira was talking about the scene at a club where they danced to a remix of Depeche Mode’s “Behind The Wheel.”

She found the song on her phone and we hooked it up to Mia Lucy’s sound system. We turned it up and danced. If you’ve seen the movie, it was just like that.

Other people joined in. Mia Lucy was dancing with Aidan, Celice with Clive. I couldn’t tell you if they kissed at the end of the song, but Keira and I did. I don’t know if Celice saw us, nor did I care. I kissed her sister.

I think it was a fantasy of mine I didn’t know I had.

Coming Tuesday!: “Kissing Her Sister”

Posted on June 19, 2015

Somehow finding a vintage Depeche Mode concert shirt at a Chicago thrift store sends me on several paths – one of which I get to kiss the sister. The sister of the girl I used to love.

Kissed Awake

Posted on June 6, 2015

Once I woke up to find a woman’s lips on mine.

Not  just any woman, Ms. Weregun, my strange upstairs neighbor. I guess I left a back door open, a door that opened directly into the laundry room that I shared with Ms. Weregun. She found it to be an invitation to walk in and plant her wormy lips on mine.

“Ah you liked it,” she said.  “You would have liked it better if you woke up to me blowing you. A handsome woman twice your age, you’d be lucky to pound me.”

Ms. Weregun left, and I immediately knocked on the door of another neighbor, Katie Bristol, a rower and student at the University of Chicago. She was pale, and pretty.

I told her what happened, and that to fix what happened she, Katie, would have to do the same thing. Kiss me awake.

“I’ll leave the door open. Just come in and do it.”

“Jesus Christ,” she said.

I walked down to Mickey’s Tavern. Elmer was bartending. Cookie Roy and Pearl the White Sox fan was there. Then Chicago reclusive author Clive Javanski walked out of the bathroom. He was drinking out of a carton of skim milk. Elmer, Roy and Pearl were doing shots. I had one and told them what happened.

“Watch out for that older puss,” Elmer said.

Elmer said I was safe there, because Ms. Weregun had been banned from the bar. Why, I asked.

“She was rubbing her ass on the poker machine and harassing people for free beers.”

“I’ll be doing that tonight,” said Pearl, who I think was in college during when Capone was breaking balls.

“Ms. Weregun is like an older Amanda Seyfried,” said Clive, who I’m sure had sex her once. “But with the tongue of a young dog.”

A few mornings passed and no Katie. I’m glad she didn’t come for one of them because I was passed out cold. Not even sure her kiss could wake me. Plus a Ukrainian student from DePaul was sleeping next to me. And I kissed her awake because she smelled nice.

 Then a few nights ago I was alone with my growler of Half Acre beer when there was a knock on the door. It was Katie. She had beer too. She also had a kiss.

“I thought I’d kiss you goodnight,” she said. “I’ll still be here when I kiss you awake.”

Sometimes things just work out. Even for assholes.

Ms. Weregun