Page 1 of My New and Improved Alien Lovers

“Ha, ha, yes! Take that you cowards, DIE!”

These crazed monster figures her cousin left behind were no match for her princess doll; she could vanquish them in her sleep.

“Margie, do you want to— what are you doing? Did you break all of your cousin’s toys?”

I stand up, brush off the poofy dress I like wearing best, and straighten my crown. “They were trying to stop Princess Poptart from becoming queen. She had to neutralize the threat.” Why does no one else understand this?

Mom sighs, sounding tired. “You need to stop watching those action movies with your uncle. You pick up too much from them.”

I carry Princess Poptart to the mound of pillows I stacked, giving her the throne she deserves. “There’re never enough girls in those movies, Mom.”

I help Mom gather the fallen enemies, smiling wide when she has to shove some arms and legs back their sockets. Crunch! Princess Poptart is fierce.

“You’re right, there’s never enough girls in movies like that. What would you do? If you were in an action movie and had to save the world?”

I put my tiara back on my dresser and take off all the rainbow bracelets I made. “If I was in a movie like that, I wouldn’t be saving the world.”

Mom looks at me with her head tilted. “Why not?”

“Because,” I tell her as I carry the new queen to my bed, which I like to think of as her castle. “If I had to be in a story like that, I’d be saving the galaxy. I’d have a whole kingdom of people that loved me, and there wouldn’t be any explosions or yucky blood. I’d make everyone settle their fights by singing the best, and we’d just make all the bad guys move really far away so they couldn’t bother us anymore.”

Mom looks at me funny. “You’d want to live with aliens?”

I shrug as I tuck Queen Poptart into place beneath my favorite quilt. “I’d be the coolest person ever if my friends were aliens. Thecoolest.”

Mom starts walking out of my room, muttering under her breath about how my grandma would be thrilled to hear that.

She died last year though, so I’m not sure how mom plans on telling her.

Margaret

“I just really think we need to get back to those days, you know?”

I stare at my cup, wondering how it got empty so quickly. I’m pretty sure this cocktail was full just a minute ago.

The silence at the table has me realizing that I missed something that my date said. Shit. What was the last thing he said? Oh, he was droning on about how women aren’t very feminine anymore. It appears I’m getting another vodka soda. I see our waiter across the room and hold up my cup, motioning towards it so he knows exactly what I need right now. That’s likely the only thing that will help me get through the rest of this date.

I start wondering exactly how many cocktails it would take me to agree with any of the bull this guy is spewing out of hismouth. “I’ve gotta be honest with you Calvin,” I say, choosing not to suppress the big belch that has worked its way up to my sternum. He thinks women aren’t feminine anymore? I guess there’s no point in trying, then. He’s got all of us figured out.

“The problem isn't the women,” I assure him. “Do you know how much effort I put into this date tonight? Do you know how long it takes to shave every inch of these legs? No, no forget that. Do you know how difficult it is to shave your crotch when you can’t even fully see it? The angles you have to twist yourself into to make sure that the razor reaches everywhere without shaving off any necessary bits? And forthis? Do you even eat pussy?”

“Excuse me?”

“Pussy.Do you eat it. Because based on this conversation, I’m kind of getting the feeling that you probably don’t. And this is a big fucking waste of my time if that’s the case. I give phenomenal head, but if you’re not going to reciprocate, then this is going to end like any other date I’ve had. With me unfulfilled.” Shit. When am I going to remember that vodka makes me lose my filter?

“I have in the past, yes,” he utters, looking very not confident with his answer. Then he gathers his courage. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. It is highly unattractive to hear a woman speak about such things in public.”

I get a spark of inspiration. “Let’s call up one of your exes. I’m gonna need a review before I can continue this date. I need to knowexactlywhat I’m getting myself into, to see if it’s worth dealing with the irritation of your voice.” I get my phone out “What’s her name? Phone number? How long were you together?”

Calvin sputters. “Are you serious right now? How the hell do you think this is appropriate date behavior?”

The waiter blessedly drops off a refill of my drink, and I’m quick to slam it down. The alcohol goes straight to my bloodstream, leaving me so much happier than I was just a second ago. “Do you realize you’ve been droning on for close to forty minutes now, extolling the virtues of a strong male? Do you know how many times you’ve belittled women? How many misogynistic remarks you’ve made, thinking they’re socially acceptable opinions? Because I’ve been keeping a mental tally. I’ve got to say, you might not be theworstperson I’ve gone out with, but you very well might be the last. This might be the date that turns me off of men indefinitely.”

“I think we’re done here,” he says. “Dinner’s on me; enjoy.” He throws his napkin down.

“Wait!” I yell. “I’ve been in this situation before. I will pay my way, because if I don’t, you’re going to think it’s okay to call me up next week and remind me that you bought me a meal, and you’re going to think that I owe you something for it. I’m not I’m playing that game again.” I thrust some bills back at him and he storms off. Good riddance.

And then I’m left at my sad little table for two by myself, and I’m just over it. All I feel like doing now is getting shit faced and making bad decisions. So basically, like many other Tuesday past.

---