Almond Joy


Almond Joy

Well, whatever it is, there it is. He got a phone call last night from Ramen, his sister-in-law, the incestuous one, the one with the habit of rubbing against him when they pass in the hall. Ramen and his sister have been married/civil unionized for many years. Philadelphia (his sister – ha, city of brotherly love, fucking weird parents, but then again his name is Almond Joy) has always been one up on him, married to a better looking, smarter woman than Almond Joy ever even dated. Ramen is smooth and salty; eating noodles she’s the fantasy he would have, if he wasn’t hers.

Almond Joy has been feeling unhinged these days. Maybe he really is unhinged. Almond Joy has been revisiting his disco youth and making amends, amen, to all the women and all the men and all the mean little shih tzus, chow dogs and rottweilers he ever treated wrong in all those years when he was the hardest working man in Hollywood, animal trainer to the stars; he is in recovery, he is a Luke Skywalker, he is a bit player in a zombie movie you might have seen 20 years ago who you thought would make it somewhere someday, but whatever it is, there it is.

 

Now here he is, in a constant state of apology, shame and guilt. He has been talked into officiating at the awards ceremony at Philadelphia and Ramen’s pride party next week. They are making plans with Almond in the dining room; Ramen slides past Almond like a sesame slick noodle, man eating noodles kisses the edge of his ear and disappears into the kitchen to make peanut butter and jelly for her and Philadelphia’s four sons. Almond Joy has volunteered to wrap himself in aluminum foil and act as the Oscar for the big night, handing out trophies to the queen of hearts, to the deepest UV George Hamilton smile in the line-up of happy drag kings.

 

Almond Joy wants to be a man with a stiff upper lip, he wants to be beyond shame and guilt, he wants to be beyond consequences. See Wikepedia commons But there is something in him that was born to do the 12 steps, and he has been making amends, amen Almond Joy, since the first time he smelled sin. He is truly baffled by himself, by his sense of responsibility, his draconian internal policies. He wants to blow out all the pipes, loosen his stays, he wants to swagger and strut through life. But whatever it is, there it is.

 

Philadelphia and Ramen love Almond Joy more than leather, more than their children, more than the frequent wet spots they leave on their silk sheets. Almond Joy is more than brother; he is almost their twin. Supernova Their guilt-ridden, discombobulated, repressed twin who needs to be unleashed, flabbergasted, blown through some unbelievable astronomical supernova revelation, unfolded like an origami crane, unwrapped and licked like the sweet candy bar he was named for. They want to give Almond Joy the best unbirthday party ever, the best new birthday, they want to remove that tag under penalty of law. But most of all, they want Almond Joy to be happy. They’ve started looking for single straight women, something neither one of them has ever intentionally done before, and that is how Nebula came into their life.

 

Ramen met Nebula at Scarecrow Video. Nebula is tall, an African American Barbie with legs so long they give RamenAfircan Barbie a Charlie horse just looking at them. Nebula was crying in the back of the store, in a corner behind the classic movies section where dust was likely to collect. Something about Gene Tierney and Gene Wilder and Gene Autry, and movies being something to save, like the whales or the speckled trout or the hoot-owls or the frogs. She sounded so much like Almond Joy, with her guilt and her beauty, that Ramen takes her home to meet the family, to plan a family union/re-union, for Almond, for Joy, for the future, for the pleasure of feeling guilty together in love.

 

 

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4 Responses to “Almond Joy”


  1. 1 truce March 5, 2007 at 7:41 pm

    I love guilt, it heightens the pleasure 🙂

  2. 2 Teresa March 6, 2007 at 7:18 am

    Hi Truce – finding some good guilty pleasures there in Oz yet? Hope so – saw the view from your apartment — wow! Too fun.

  3. 3 truce March 6, 2007 at 7:52 pm

    Talking of guilty pleasures, I’m sitting at my desk eating quite possibly the world’s most over-stuffed sandwich and I fully intend to follow it with some chocolate biscuits… but as for other guilty pleasures, I’m still working on those but it looks like there’ll be plenty of scope!

  4. 4 Teresa March 8, 2007 at 6:37 pm

    I think I like the pictures in this story better than the story itself. There was this new guy named Coffee (yes, spelled that way) at the writing group and it set me off on a naming frenzy, which I am already prone to. Very good looking fella, I say in my staid married way, but would probably be quite pleasant with chocolate biscuits in the afternoon as a little pick-me-up. Ahem.


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