from Michael, I didn’t want it. I smiled as two women fought over a Gucci handbag. It was hysterical. I made some coffee and in one of Johnny’s tee shirts, I watched as piece by piece my clothing got removed from the rather large pile of designer clothes strewn across the front of Johnny’s apartment lawn. Best damn coffee ever.
The apartment phone rang and I got up to answer. Then I sat back down. This wasn’t my apartment. I officially only had four more days to find a job and a place to live. Collecting the drugstore application, I threw on some of Johnny’s sweatpants, since all of my clothes were trash and headed down. First, I bought some red dye to go with my new hairdo. If I could make myself look as fucked up as I felt on the inside then maybe, just maybe I could figure out what to do next. I had always pretended with the fashionable clothing and sporty car. Wait, where was my car? Whatever. If I looked happy and nice, then life would turn out that way, too. When did I ever get that stupid notion in my brain?
An instant flash of the Ouija board made me look up to see an ATM machine in the back corner. “Nice”, it had said to me. I would be nice when I grew up. I teetered on my feet for a bit before I knew what to do.
I withdrew cash. I withdrew so much cash out of the ATM that I was getting serious concerned looks from customers. I knew I looked homeless, with Johnny’s too big clothes and my newly acquired hair style. Technically, I was homeless so how did I have a card that allowed me thousands of dollars? I was messing with my image but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted all the money I could get from Michael. Oh and I could take Michael’s money, just not the things he had purchased for me. I withdrew hundreds and hundreds of dollars until I felt my cell phone buzz in Johnny’s pants pocket. I had just turned the thing on not five minutes ago. I was never this popular before I become a homeless mooch.
“Yeah?” I answered as I stuffed more twenties in the other pocket. I was done with niceties. My world was shit. I didn’t even want a cell phone. I would toss this stupid device next. Or maybe I would give it away. Someone could call a loved one that actually gave a shit about how they were doing. I certainly didn’t have anyone.
“Emily, sweetheart. I’ve been calling you for two days. Where are you?” Michael’s voice made me want to puke.
“Oh, I am hanging with this gang I made friends with in Harlem,” I deadpanned.
Silence stretched long and hard. It was annoying. “Be serious, Emily,” he admonished me.
“Right now I am buying some things and taking out all of your money from the ATM,” I said as I punched the two hundred dollar button again and accepted the six dollar transaction fee.
“That’s also why I am calling. Why are you withdrawing so much money? I am getting the updates every thirty seconds,” he said sounding more pissed off now.
“I needed some new clothes. I’m trying to find a job.” I sighed. “What do you want, Michael?”
“Either you come home or I need an address to send the divorce papers to,” he threatened. He knew I didn’t actually want a divorce. Nice Emily would worry what the neighbors thought. I pondered it for a few seconds.
“You got a pen?” I asked. The gasp I heard on the other end of the phone was priceless.
“You can’t be serious, Emily. You are my wife, for better and for worse,” he countered.
“111 Main Street New York, NY 10001. Oh and two words. Taylor and expelled,” I said right before I hit the end button. I had no idea if there even was a Main Street in Manhattan. I suppose someone would find out one day when they tried to serve me with the papers. I laughed at that scenario and bought three racks of wine coolers.
I slapped the application down in front of boring lady. She slipped it off the counter and placed in a box to her right. There must have been over thirty papers already in there and I grimaced
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Armed, Magical