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He grins and points his finger at me, then says, “So I was doing her garden, and she comes out and starts talking shit on another woman, Mrs. Cho. Says that Cho keeps trying to fuck her husband or whatever, and she thinks it’s because her own husband—Cho’s husband—can’t get it up anymore.”
“Mrs. Fletcher.”
“Yeah! Mrs. Fletcher! You know her too!”
“Yep. Classy lady.”
He shrugs. "Honestly, I don't even know anymore. It's like, how can you tell who's good and who's not? I mean, if I were Mr. Fletcher, I wouldn’t be looking anywhere else but Janice’s big double-Ds, but who knows? Maybe he likes ‘em petite.”
I smile wryly. Classic Marco, only focusing on one thing.
“But anyway, I’m like, why are you telling me? Like I’m just pouring dirt into the ground and pulling weeds, you know? I don’t need to know about all that shit. Like, if you’re asking me to help get him back, then sure, I’ll be right inside, if you know what I mean, but if you’re just like gossiping, then, like, what am I supposed to do about it.”
“I think they talk to us because they can’t talk to anyone else. Not honestly, anyway.”
“Like, we’re nobodies, so they can dump all their shit on us without worrying that we’re going to use it against them, huh?”
“Exactly.”
He shakes his head. “Well, I guess it means the job isn’t boring.”
I think of Vivian’s eyes staring into mine as she warps her arms around me. I hear the soft moans and sighs she releases in my ear. “No. Not boring at all.”
“So have you banged anyone yet?”
I sigh and take another bite of my sandwich.
“You totally did! Who was it? Did you bang Mrs. Fletcher? You did, didn’t you!”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Marco. I banged Mrs. Fletcher.”
He laughs and says, “Nah, she isn’t your style. You’re not into big titties. Did you bang Mrs. Cho?”
“Yep. Her too.”
“Maybe you should. Give her something other than a married man to put her eyes on. You’d be doing her and Mrs. Fletcher both a favor.”
“Dude, you seriously need to get a life.”
“What’s wrong with my life? I get to drive a nice truck, listen to MILFs complain about their husbands and then go home to real life with the best stories to tell.”
“Whatever makes you happy, man.”
“Seriously, who did you screw?”
“Your sister.”
He laughs again. “Hey, that’s fucked up, man. You know she likes you too.”
“Aranza? She hates me, what are you talking about?”
“Nah, bro, she only pretends to hate you because she thinks you’re cute. She told me.”
"Are you trying to convince me to sleep with her?"
He looks at me sideways. “Look at you being all fancy. ‘Sleep with her.’ Damn, you grew up all the way, didn’t you?”
I think of the needle pushing into my arm two nights ago and resist the urge to scratch. “Trying to.”
