drain, oh

She does not remember what happened that night, she claims, so I hint at the thing and then deny it happened, but like it really did, and it twists her into a mental mess. I feel guilty, but in the good way that you get from fucking with someone over something not so important. It is more fun to watch her squirm over the thing than the thing itself (which may or may not have happened).

She does not say anything. She rests her chin on a hand and spins her glass in the water ring on the counter. Finally she says, "It's all just technicalities and flesh," and I wish I thought of shit like that to say. She wins on that alone but I do not think she knows it.

She shows me something she wrote and it is really good and I know that when I tell her how good it is she will not believe me. She keeps coming back to the thing, though, the thing that may or may not have happened when she was really drunk, and it squashes the good time we are having drinking now. Especially when she says she is great at the thing and I say she was just okay. She believes me.

We go for a walk near the campus library, the same one where a kid jumped to his death from the tenth floor today.

"Again?" she says.

"Again?" I say.

We make jokes about masturbation and laugh at people who suck at life, like us, but worse. A student who saw the jumper hit the tiles said she was surprised there was no blood or splatter, just a loud thud.

She hugs me, it feels weird, and she says she has to use the bathroom in the library. Lame excuse to ditch me. She says she still has an old ID that works, and I tell her not to get any ideas about jumping.

When I get off the train, I stop in my dinner spot for two blistery empanadas (a buck each, I fucking shit you not) and red beans (also a buck). The ladies behind the counter are all related in the tits and do not mind celebrating them. Half smile, half do not. It does not matter.

She had asked me at the bar if I had seen hers when we did whatever we did. I was like, "Are you serious?" and I wondered if I was the one being fucked with. She said sorry and asked me what I thought of them. I was nice and said there is nothing wrong with them. She thinks big is best, and I told her that tittie size is overrated, but I do not think she believed me. It is more about shape. It really is.

I pay for my beans and empanadas and walk up a couple hundred steps to my apartment and sit in a laptop-lit room and type all I have time to type, which is still probably more than people have the desire to read, and I think about what she said about flesh and I take a bite of blistery empanada and put a period at the end of a long, draw-out sentence with too many conjunctions.


24 x like a billion = how much I love you:

ana c. said...

"and I told her that tittie size is overrated"

good man

~otto~ said...

It is a subject I am passionate about

ana c. said...

passionate about tittie size
(and word verifications)

~otto~ said...

Two very important subjects that should be documented in detail. And also avocados. I really like avocados. And when little kids fall and don't really hurt themselves but look around a cry because nobody saw them fall. That's the best. Actually, forget all the other stuff. THAT is my true passion.

Mariana Soffer said...

I really like your way of telling stories or scenes, they are so natural and well narrated, and they feel real, completelly real, I think they manage to potrait pretty acuratelly the strange mix of feelings, behaviours, etc that humans are.
Be well otto.

rollerfink said...

sometimes i tell you what my word verification is and sometimes i don't. this time i will use it somewhere in my comment here and you will have to guess.

the girl in your story seems nice. she reminds me a lot of edna st. vincent millay. she didn't have big titties either. what;s funny is i never say titties but i kind of felt pressured to say it since that is what you said etc. titties is not my word verification.

TC said...


The conjunctions are needed so as to include the technicalities. Also they bring action and energy. One after another. But you knew this already.

Had that jumper experienced the joy of conjunctions perhaps he would not have jumped.

Flesh: one big impossible technicality.

Ana C's comment rings with authenticity, her poem Bras
Are Tacky speaks volumes on this present subject. Otto, I think she knows things we don't. The technicalities.

BTW: Agree with rollerfink that we should not just be handing out our word verifications on a platter here, from now on mine will be very cunningly hidden inesne.

(RF: just curious, was it "millay"?)

rollerfink said...


too easy? i'll have to hursern my next one a little better.

TC said...


Well, you worked it in and camouflaged it perfectly... almost.

Really I think we must try a bit harder at this.

One strategy that may be hard to foil is hiding it under your dorspolo, who would ever think to look there?

xTx said...

this story is now a favorite of mine. I blame it on the blistery empanadas and titties. When I was young and growing up in a very Italian family we had blistery pastry called pateri. I'd eat them from my grandfather's fingers and try not to stare at his nose hairs.

word verification hidden inside. your comments are now fun.

~otto~ said...

Mariana, thanks you so much for your kind comments, as always. So glad you still visit this little space.

RoFi: This is a great idea, but I am afraid I cannot participate. It is fun to watch all of you do it, though.

TC: You are so, so right about so, so many things, especially the part about Ana knowing things we don't. So, so many things we don't. I didn't even realize how much I hated bras until I read her poem. It reminded me of a poem by an obscure Alutian author named Blipnork Goftinky. The poem was called "Ukenee," but it hasn't been translated into English, yet, just Canadian.

~otto~ said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
gamefaced said...

too, a favorite.

~otto~ said...

xTx, I think the Italians stole those pastries from the Greeks, who make this tasty little thing called kadaifi. Those are soooo good.

~otto~ said...

Thanks, gamefaced. The Cinnamon Life is waiting for you. The milk has sucked all the flavor. Snorks is on.

TC said...


What a tremendous coincidence. Whenever I am eating pateri in the Aleutians I like to dribble a little bit on my knee, so that I can have the pleasure of wiping it away with the already heavily pateri-spattered pages of my copy of "Ukenee", which I like to read in that enchanted hour when dawn breaks over the efsbi, and the icicles are crackling in the frost with a sound like tiny ukeleles being smashed to bits.

rollerfink said...

i hate to spoil the memories of familial bonding and exotic foodstuffs but i think most of you have missed the metaphor.

"When I get off the train" = aftersex

"I stop in my dinner spot for two blistery empanadas" = i stppoed by the free clinic and the doctor says i have herpes

"(a buck each, I fucking shit you not)" = i'm also a bit constipated

"and red beans (also a buck)" = gonorrhea too

multiple choice word verification:
a. kuppe
b. fragonard
c. likself
d. mariolopez
e. all of the above

~otto~ said...

I love it when the comments are better than the post. I choose "d. mariolopez." And I give rollerfink an A+ for figuring all this out. You are wise and hilarious.

TC, dawn over the efsbi is magical. Too bad nobody has ever captured it on film.

I have no word verification to hide because I am signed in and I feel like if I signed out just to get one that would be kind of like cheating.

TC said...

Yes, it's terrible not to have the benefit of one's own word verification program. In fact I don't even have word verification on my blog, so I can't get to hear other people's word verifications either. It's that empty, empty aftersex with d.mariolopez feeling. Plus my hands are cold. And no, Otto, the comments aren't better than the post. Is Jesus Christ better than God?

The lightning that speaks from the Thunder: "Ingshee".

(Oops, typed it in wrong, must be the beadabo kicking in.)

wordsforguns said...


I made love to "She wins on that alone but I do not think she knows it."

It talked back and I liked it.

~otto~ said...

Muchos gracias, wordsforguns. (I don't know how to say wordsforguns in Spanish.)

Lupo said...

I have to second Mariana, in congratulating you for creating a very messy, very human space out of your words. In the orange murk, I pick out your features, your footsteps, and occasionally your organs. Are you writing a novel? How do I find out about you? Lupo... palabras-para-los-armas

~otto~ said...

Thanks, Lupo. Drop me a line at otto at ottomattiq dot com

xTx said...

rollerfink can hold my hand while otto shits on my chest. his friend tedefd can watch while this goes down. period blood.


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