Love and War

When I reread today’s headlines, I’m tempted to check the fresh meat in the wedding announcements, but I fix my eyes on Joe the Plumber’s new political column instead. Oh how those fifteen minutes of fame have taken the average Joe-ness out of his eyes. He used to look a lot more like the actor Michael Chiklis, but now he looks like a bad botox victim. When I tried that botulistic heaven, I started out safely- Just a little in the crow’s feet and some scattered throughout my forehead, but don’t even think about touching my laugh lines. I’ve earned those babies in the best way possible, thank you very much.
Bringing me back to the realization that I’m in the office, my receptionist Melanie walks in. Like clockwork she’s here to announce my nine o’clock standing appointment that always stands me up until ten thirty.
“Your nine o’clock is here,” Melanie laughs.
I can already hear the screaming through the walls.
“Please send them in,” I nod quenching my thirst with some coffee.
I place the newspaper on the corner of my desk.
This has become a habit for the past two months since Kevin and Jeffrey have become my clients. They bicker in the reception area in polite voices, and then begin screaming like lunatics as soon as they’re alone. Melanie told me how one time she was under her desk cleaning, and they came in like a tornado. It crept in like a little mouse, signed the attendance sheet, and proceeded to get quite frisky. Apparently, Jeffrey wanted to be spanked in bed or something like that, and Kevin chased him around the room wailing him with his purse. Jeffrey twisted his ankle, falling onto and breaking our coffee table. Kevin told Melanie that I was next.
Sometimes the gay couples are worse than the straight ones. At least in a traditional marriage most of the time you have an obvious balance: the feminine energy and the masculine energy. Here, it’s hard to tell what’s going on. With Kevin I have a drama queen, and with Jeffrey it’s always DIVA. They used to shock me, walking in wearing wigs and heels, but now I’m used to it. Now when they flip the tranny switch, I can still tell who is who. It’s almost fun seeing what they’ll come in like each week.
Kevin walks in wearing a white dress with black spandex stockings and white knee-high platforms. Today he’s a blonde with blue eyes and a French manicure. My office suddenly smells of after-shave and vanilla musk.
“Mattie!” shouts Kevin, pouting his lips and blowing kisses. “You like the new look?”
“Very nice Kevin,” I chuckle.
“At least someone does!” he yells into the waiting area.
“I said I liked it, too,” Melanie shouts.
“Not you baby. You know who I mean,” Kevin banters back.
In walks Jeffrey. His pace reminds me of molasses. He’s wearing all black, designer-wear, but something is off. Mascara is running down his face.
“Jeff, please have a seat,” I say. “What’s going on?”
“Kevin!” he screams shocking me.
I look over at Kevin, and he’s filing his nails.
“He doesn’t care anymore,” Jeffrey sobs in his hands.
“Kevin, can you explain what happened?” I ask.
“Sure, Jeffy is mad because I have a new yoga partner and it’s not him,” he answers with a flip of blonde hair. “I’m in better shape than I’ve ever been and he should be happy for me.”
“LIAR!” Jeffrey sobs deeply. His hands shake and his long dark wig is becoming frizzy with each hand to head encounter.
Kevin and I exchange glances. Jeffrey buries his face deep into his large hands, and I walk from behind my desk to offer him a tissue. Just as I touch his back, something changes.
“Aye, my new partner is going to love this yoga outfit,” Kevin whispers while flipping through one of my magazines.
Jeffrey jumps to his feet knocking me backward onto my desk. I slide right off the newspaper and onto the floor, just as he lunges at Kevin. With a shriek, Kevin is on his feet and then falls into the bookshelf behind him.
“How could you Kevin?” Jeffrey demands, ripping off his own wig. He looks like a butch wrestler from the ground. “How could you!” he screams.
Kevin rights himself and slaps Jeffrey across the face. My head spins. These two giant Barbies are going to shed blood in my office. I try to stand but a shooting pain goes through my leg.
“Melanie!” I scream.
Jeffrey slams the door shut in her face without a glance towards it. I reach for my phone, but the pain grows deeper with each attempt at moving.
“You bitch!” Jeffrey yells. “How could you slap me?”
Before he can answer Melanie opens the door with Kevin's purse in one hand and a scissor in the other.
"Compose yourselves or the purse gets it," she says.
Kevin looks at Jeffrey with tragic eyes, but he doesn't respond.
"It's Louie, baby!" Kevin yells. "Louie Vuitton!"
Jeffrey relaxes slightly and looks at Melanie.
"Give Kevin the bag," he says. "We're sorry."
Melanie hands him the bag and reaches to help me up. As soon as I get to my feet I hear sirens coming.
"You called the police?" I ask Melanie.
"No," she answers.
"Oh that's just our ride," says Kevin. "We made friends with some hot firefighters today."
"Melanie, let's call it in early," I mutter.
I look at my watch and it's only ten forty-five. "Very early," I whisper.