Read American Babe Online

Authors: Babe Walker

American Babe (10 page)

Gen
NO

Roman
Yes bitch. I shit you not. This queen was just standing there looking at me, waiting for me to say something.

Gen
So what'd you say? I hope you fucking slapped him across the face. What he's done to you! AND what he said to you at that Grammys after party last year was one of the darkest, cruelest, shadiest things I've ever heard. You don't deserve to EVER run into him. You just don't deserve it. You're a good person Roman.

Roman
I know I am.

Gen
Really. You have such a huge heart.

Roman
Thanks, Gen. You're being nice, it's weird.

Gen
I hope you stabbed him.

Roman
LOL

Roman
I fucking wanted to. Trust.

Gen
What happened? Were tables thrown?

Babe
Wait.

Babe
I may or may not have just fallen asleep while peeing.

Gen
Ew

Roman
Ew Babe. Where are you?

Babe
Promise you'll still talk to me if I tell you

Roman
I promise

Gen
I don't

Babe
I'm in a public bathroom stall at a movie theater in a mall in Maryland

Roman
WHAT WHY

Gen
NO

Babe
I tried to tell you guys before but no one wanted to listen

Roman
Fine. Brief pause to my story so you can tell us why in the actual fuck you are where you are

Babe
I came here to meet Donna's side of the family.

Babe
Donna's side of MY family I guess I should say

Gen
Intense

Roman
But cute

Roman
I think it's good you're doing that

Babe
I guess

Babe
But there's a lot of butter here

Gen
I'm sure there's butter everywhere. Scary food is king in the non-coastal states.

Roman
Genevieve, Maryland is on the east coast

Gen
It is?

Roman
100%

Gen
Whatever

Roman
Babe I want details later but I need to finish my story

Babe
K

Babe
But wait who's Mikey Dutton?

Roman
LOL

Roman
You've met him before. He's a “stylist” and also my arch nemesis from CrossFit that PISSED IN THE GAS TANK OF MY CAR when he found out I'd been chosen to be a judge on RuPaul's Drag Race this season and he hadn't

Roman
He claims it was his biggest goal in life and I stole it from him

Gen
Love that fucking show

Babe
Same. So I get it. But ew.

Babe
I think this sounds familiar.

Babe
Where did I meet him?

Roman
At Pepo

Babe
What's pepo

Roman
That spanish restaurant with the hot bus boys

Babe
Pepo. Of course. They are hot

Roman
SO hot

Roman
I hadn't seen Mikey since the day he called me basic at that Grammys party in front of legit 3 million people

Gen
I still can't believe he said that

Babe
That's all he said?

Roman
What do you mean that's all

Roman
Imo that's the single most offensive thing you could say to a person

Babe
Really?

Babe
It doesn't seem like the MOST to me

Babe
But hey I'm very stoned right now

Babe
I should go back to the theater. My little cousin is in there

Roman
Let me finish. It gets good.

Roman
So I look at him, I stand up, overcome by a strange sense of cunty yet calm confidence, I walk over to him and I whisper this: That hello was the last word you'll ever say to me. You are a major source of negativity in my life, you ruin my day, you're a child, you're an actual diaper filled with doo doo, you're the worst, leave me alone

Gen
NO

Babe
Omg

Babe
So unlike you to get worked up, romie

Roman
I know it was nuts but I knew that if I didn't handle it swiftly and calmly, he'd make a scene

Babe
Love swiftness

Roman
And just before I could turn around and walk back to my table, he throws his entire, large iced-latte in my face

Babe
SHUT

Gen
UP

Roman
So I punched him square in the jaw

Babe
I'm gonna scream

Babe
I am screaming

Babe
In this bathroom

Babe
ROMAN WHAT at Joan's????!!!!!

Gen
I'm proud of you Romie

Roman
Thanks.

Roman
I'm anti-violence or whatever but I'm also anti fuckboy

Roman
Anyway I gotta go and Babe you need to get out of that bathroom

Babe
So true

Gen
Yeah wtf

Gen
Love you guys x

NINE
Still Thinking About the Popcorn I Ate in Chapter Eight.

I
felt really guilty about eating the popcorn. Like, it was all I thought about for the entire drive home from the mall, the entire rest of the evening, and probably the entire rest of my life. Eating popcorn with butter is honestly just like doing cocaine.
(New mantra?)
You have some, it's amazing, you feel amazing, and then all you can think about is having more. Like, right then. It becomes a need. Elemental to your very being. You
have
to have more popcorn/cocaine because it's the best thing you've ever put into your body and why wouldn't you want to have more of it? I'd always wondered why people
actually
get fat, and now, for the first
time, I had a glimpse of how that could happen. But, I had two cigarettes, two generous imaginary lines of coke, and a HUGE bottle of Fiji for dinner and it made me feel much better. I was back.

The more time that I spent with Knox, the more connected I felt to him. He was Mini-Me and he got 75 percent of my pop-culture references, which is an extremely high percentage for this particular geographical region or really anywhere, especially considering he was seventeen years younger than me. Knox understood who I was. He didn't judge me for being specific in my needs as a human being. He never scoffed at my dietary restrictions. He looked up to me. It was a strange experience, a wild sensation. In LA, no one would dare act like they looked up to me. But Knox was just proud to be my cousin. He genuinely appreciated me for . . . me.

It made me feel good in a way I wasn't accustomed to feeling. But the feelings were also complicated by the fact that I knew in my heart that I was keeping a huge secret from Knox. He looked to me for total realness. I wondered sometimes if I was the first person in his life who was willing to level with him. But maybe I wasn't being as real with him as he thought. I needed to sort this out. I needed to get confirmation that Donna wasn't Knox's mom. I spent the rest of the night Googling DNA testing methods and came
up with some viable options for determining which vagina Knox had emerged from.

The next morning I was up bright and early at 11:15 a.m. I drove to Starbucks in the car I found in the driveway, got coffee, and then drove to a little river near Veronica's house. It was quiet, smelled like outsideness, and I was feeling fucking
namaste
as fuck. I started to ponder an idea I'd been playing with for a book or a TV show about a lipstick lesbian who is running for president. I do that sometimes. I just jot down ideas I have in my phone and then I get really fucking excited about them and obsess over them and think about them constantly. Then I never do anything about turning them into a reality because without fail, every single time I look back at these ideas after a month or so, they're complete shit and I'm shocked that I ever even considered them as legitimate. I get high a lot.

As I was drawing a sketch of The Lesbian President's inauguration look (spoiler alert: she wins the election in the pilot!), I got a text from a rando number:

410-443-XXXX
Hi Babe. It's V

Babe
Hi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

410-443-XXXX
Need a big favor from you

Babe
Sorry I can't

Babe
JK.

Babe
Just kidding.

Babe
Whats up?

410-443-XXXX
When is your flight back to LA?

Babe
Late tonight

410-443-XXXX
Shit. Ok.

Babe
Why?

410-443-XXXX
It's fine don't worry about it.

Babe
V. Whats up?

410-443-XXXX
I have to go to Cara's school tonight for conferences and I just got asked to cover someone's shift.

Babe
You want me to go to Cara's school?

410-443-XXXX
Honestly its fine I know you have to leave town. youve been really helpful already with the kids

Babe
I can do it. I'll change my flight.

410-443-XXXX
Really?

Babe
Yeah. NO problem!

Babe
Who is this btw

410-443-XXXX
V

410-443-XXXX
Veronica

Babe
OK thought so. Cool! All good love you

Question: What exactly did I mean when I said “no problem”? It was actually a huge problem because I hate schools and I hate people. This was a combo of both. But I felt for Vee. She was a single mom, she seemed to have done a pretty good job raising these kids, and I wasn't really in a huge rush to get back to LA. In fact, it had been kind of nice to be out of town for the past few days. Then I had an idea.

Our gay heroine is not only chic and only wears neutrals, but she is a single mom. Like Veronica. And her niece is an international bestselling author. An author of children's books, because fiction!

Once I had my idea jotted down, I checked Instagram, smoked a cigarette, logged onto Grindr using Roman's password because it's fun to talk to real-life gays and see what types of dick pics they'll send you, and tried skipping a stone in the river. That last part about the stone is actually not true.

I knew I'd have to rush if I was going to make it home to get ready and then to the school on time for tonight's big event. I scooped my life up and pumped my way out of that little river park, snagging my favorite Rick Owens crepe drop-rise jumpsuit on a bush on my way down the path to the car. The rip was too big and could never be fixed so I just slipped out of it, left it to the wilderness
gods, and drove home in my underwear. I knew there was no room for that type of mess in my life at that juncture. So, bye.

I was pulling into Veronica's driveway when my phone ding'd.

Genevieve
Did you hear that Remy died?

Babe
Our shoe lady at Barneys?

Genevieve
Yes!

Babe
Stop

Genevieve
I'm serious. She drove her little convertible off the PCH

Babe
Stop

Genevieve
Before that, she lit her boyfriend's apartment on fire. Like full arson moment

Babe
Stop

Genevieve
And supposedly stole a bunch of Celine mules and gave them to homeless women downtown

Babe
Stop

Genevieve
I think she was a little crazy

Babe
I would've had NO idea. We loved Remy!

Genevieve
Loved

Genevieve
When are you coming back? I'm over everyone here. Roman is out of his mind. I can't. Do you miss me?

Babe
Never coming back and don't really miss you

Genevieve
K

Babe
Love you call me tomorrow

Genevieve
Love you

I chose to wear all black to the Back to School gala in honor of my late shoe saleslady, Remy Something. She was a good woman who never lost composure when I screamed at her or cried while in her presence, which was often. I'll miss you, Rem.

I threw my hair up in a high, tight pony, tossed myself into an epic pair of Miu Miu pumps that I'd forgotten I even brought, and took a shot from a bottle of vodka I found in Veronica's freezer. I was excited to finally see what
going out
looked like in the wilds of Maryland.

“T
here are a lot of men in khakis here. Is that normal?” I asked the young mom standing next to me by the refreshments table. She smiled and nodded. It looked like she wanted to say something, but she ultimately chose to simply ice me and walked away.

Whatever. Being a fake mom for the night was already a
snooze. And this was not an event. We were in a gym. I sat down at a table, pulled lipstick out of my clutch, and did that for a while. When I looked up I saw a familiar face. I thought it was the hot dead guy from the pool, Scotts, but he died, so it couldn't have been him. I walked up to him anyway. He smelled good in a super basic way. No cologne, just Dove or Dial soap. It was definitely a weird smell for a dead person to have.

“Hey, I'm Babe. Didn't I see you die the other day?”

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