Slippers

Anyway.

The Boy starts setting up the thing and doing God knows what with it. Something about installing some set-up thingie was murmured, and a few swears went along with it. This carried on for about an hour, and I have learned to keep my distance in such situations. I had no problem with this, cause I was reading "The New York Trilogy" and could feel the end of "City of Glass" was at my fingertips.

But then it carried on for another hour. And another. And the swearing got louder and there were several poundings of the fist. Lots of exasperated sighs. Far too much stress just hanging in the air.

I had moved on to another activity by this point. But our apartment is very small, and I couldn't escape the tense sighs and forced whispers of "Goddamn this fucking computer, why the hell can't those assholes over at the store sell me a product that fucking works. Just once for Christ's sake..." and so on and so on. And this is my peaceful Saturday night at home.

Nevertheless, I keep my distance, and go about my business. And then he says he is leaving (to go to his mother's, where he should have been two hours prior). He hasn't fixed the screen, but has just decided to take a healthy break to reflect.

Here's the problem: our computers are set up on a network, and his computer is the "main" computer, which hooks up to the internet. If I want to go online from my computer, I have to turn on his. This is never a problem.

But without a functional screen, there was no way I could get online. This also would not be a problem, except that I have a friend coming into Paris tomorrow, and he had emailed me contact info and flight info so that I would know when/where/how we would meet up.

And I pretty much needed that info tonight, because I didn't know if we were meeting up at 7 am or 7 pm or some hour in between.

So I casually mention this to him and say, "I don't need it right now, but maybe after you get back from your mom's you can hook it all up?" I say this rather timidly, cause he's obviously in a bad mood.

He stops and pauses. Takes a moment. Gets back on the ground and goes back to work. Asks me to unhook my screen and bring it over. I show up, screen in hand, and say, "Here." He viciously says, "Jesus Christ, what do you want me to do with that?" I say, "You asked for it." and he says, "Put it somewhere" with an annoyed wave of the hand. There's nowhere to put it (Our apartment is, I repeat, very small. And now covered in all the packing material used for his monitor). I silently nestle it between some packing. I bring over the adapter. Toss it in his direction. He audibly mutters something about how I shouldn't throw it. I ignore him. He's taking out his aggression on me. And then he busts out, as if there had been this well of anger brewing within him that he could no longer control, and forcefully says, "I'm only doing this for you, you know. You said you needed the internet, so I am giving you internet." and I answer, "No, no...I said after you get back. Honestly, I would prefer you leave right now than sit around cursing your computer. You're stressing me out with all your pouding and profanity." He doesn't answer to that. Bad sign. He swears some more, and then figures out the problem after another twenty minutes. He says, "Ok, it's fixed. I'm leaving." I say, "Ok." The air is tense. He stomps around the house like a childish boy. I calmly put my monitor back on my desk, and set to plugging it back in and such. He says, "Ok, I'm gone." and slams the door behind him. Without so much as a goodbye. No kiss. Nothing. That means he wants me to know he's mad. At what exactly?

After he leaves I think, "Asshole. Just because the computer stresses you out, you don't have to be a dick to me. I didn't do anything."

I sit there sort of silently stewing for a minute or two while I continue hooking up the monitor. I turn on the computer and make sure everything is working. All clear. Then I hear his steps coming back up. His keys in the door. He walks in, shuffles a bit, and says, "I'm gone" in the same asshole tone he had used a few minutes prior.

I say, "You could at least say goodbye" from the bedroom. My tone is a bit edgy. He walks into the room and says, "You got your screen back up and running?" (he always points out the obvious when he knows he was outta line). "Yeah." I say coldly.

Silence.

"I had to come back up because I walked down three flights before realizing I was about to leave the building in my slippers."

I'm not looking at him. I hold try to hold back my smile. I end up laughing instead. Relieved I'm not mad anymore, he says, "Sorry. You know me. I'm an asshole when the computer doesn't work." and I say, "Yeah. You really are."

Then he kisses me and says goodbye.