Person, Portrait, Picture.

Today, a women called with excellent news that I had just had been approved for a home loan. I was marvelously uninterested. But hadn’t had company for a few days so I allowed her to continue on rumbling about interest rates and long-term settlements.

“Miss you Hawthorne this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” The enthusiastic voice rang.

“How much will I need to invest in order to qualify?” I prodded mechanically.

“This is a no investment adventure-“

“But if I wanted to invest, how much would I need in order to qualify?”

“But Miss, you won’t need to give us any money. We will provide you with a loan that allows you to purchase that house you have always dreamed about.” The voice was hopeful and committed, I slipped my shoes on.

After finishing my glass of milk, I picked up my keys and sauntered out the front door of my apartment. Her voice continued on as I held the phone to my ear and got in my car. Majestically uninterested at this point, I pushed in the clutch and started the engine.

“If I give you four hundred and eleven dollars right now, will you hang up the phone?” I heard her blink in the silence.

“M-miss was you still interested in signing up today?” Her voice slowed.

“No thanks.” I tossed my cell on the passenger seat and turned north toward the freeway. While driving I was shaking off the shame, recounting the events of last night. My memories had major gaps, and the alcohol still sat on my neck. My arm hurt, and the car felt loose and loud.

I couldn’t remember much past 1:30am, I can remember thinking about Bridget and wondering about zoocosis, all while feeling really bad for camels. I lit a menthol and rolled down the window. The cool dry air of October swirled in and folded through my hair. I didn’t have to go to the office today, but I knew I had to find my purse.

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