#19 If You Sprinkle

If You Sprinkle
By Jonathan Greer

They had been married for ten years, and arguing for twelve. Her biggest pet-peeve was the toilet seat. He could never get it right.
Tonight they hosted a holiday party. All through the evening, she could not relax. It was hard enough keeping him in line when it was just the two of them. Now, with all these people, it would be impossible.
She saw him excuse himself from a conversation and head to the guest bathroom. She followed, secretly keeping her ear to the door to make sure he lifted, wiped, and replaced the seat.
After a minute he came out, catching her off-guard and knocking her head against the door.
-What the hell?
-You didn’t even flush! she screamed, her face as red as her Santa sweater.
-Darlin, he said, You don’t need to flush when you piss in the sink.
This would be their final Christmas.

#18 Old Ticking

Old Ticking
Jonathan Greer

The bottle was just short of empty. The bottom glass was dug into the dirt, and the shoulder slope leaned against the man’s thigh. His back was rested against a post planted between two rows of old wheat. Above him loomed his ragged clothes of last summer, now tied to the limbs of a smiling scarecrow.
The man reached for the old ticking just above his head. He picked a piece of hay and broke it.
-Like me.
He drained the bottle.
-Made of hay. Hollow as the sticks that gather together to make a manshape, in the image of God but shy the breath to fill hisself up again. A pile of straws, tubes fashioned to a silhouette is all. A busted crop. A beaten wife. A child too afraid to mutter my name. Just a scarecrow now. Just a perch for a brave bird is all.

#17 The Honeymoon

The Honeymoon
Jonathan Greer

The newlyweds walked down the aisle. Kernels of rice were flung at them by the handfuls. They shielded their faces with their fingers, new rings yet untarnished. The woman looked deep into the man’s eyes and said, This is Crazy! Let’s get outta here! The man shouted something back. He held his new wife by the arm and they ran.
-Just our luck, he said, now dodging a honeydew hurled by a teenager in a ski mask, To get caught in a supermarket foodfight. On our honeymoon!
Several bananas hit her in rapid succession. She wailed in pain, They got me!
-You little bastard! He grabbed two frozen chickens and bowled them across the grocery floor in an attempt to provide some covering fire.
Suddenly there came sirens, and the mob of teenagers dropped their munitions and raced away.
The newlyweds stood amid the mess, holding hands on the battlefield.

#16 To Write

To Write
Jonathan Greer

To write.
To write requires the thickest of skins.
You must become the grape that stains the wine and turns the taker’s mouth to ink.
You must become the beast that trudges over thorn and sticker and worries not for its feet.
You must become the hair that hung young Absalom. And the dart that pierced his heart.
You must become the fog that blinds all outside and leads you, like a white hall, into your place of peace.
You must become the forest too murky to allow any outside sound to come and wake you from your rest.
You must sit at your desk and create yourself a callous that covers every inch.
You must stay in this cocoon and create, and let the work create through you, and one day eat yourself out of it and see what you have become.
Are you sure you want to write?

#15 The Caroler

The Caroler
Jonathan Greer

The couple walked into the department store. The Christmas décor was in full plumage. Tyler took a breath and Kim began humming along with the music.
-Not yet, he said. Not yet. It’s not even Thanksgiving, and they play this shit.
-What’s wrong with that? she replied. You could use some holiday cheer.
-Babe, have you ever listened to the words of this song? Blah, blah, blah, in a one horse open sleigh? His head bobbed with the rhythm.
-Ok, she said, her voice trailing up.
-One horse? That’s only one horsepower. One horsepower! Who wants a car with one horsepower? Your vibrator has more horsepower than that.
An old saleswoman looked up from her task of folding sweaters.
Embarrased, Kim elbowed him in the gut and smiled. The lady resumed her task with a small Hmph.
-I’m just saying, he retreated, They couldnt’ve hitched another horse to the sleigh?

#14 The Horse Bite

The Horse Bite
Jonathan Greer

Darlene had one huge tit.
She told me the reason her one tit was so big was because her momma had an old ornery mare and she was standing in front of it, holding it by the reins while her momma was fiddling with the back hoof and the horse just reached down with took a bite. Just out of meanness.
I asked her if it bled all over and she said No, that it hurt like hell and pretty soon it started growing. But her other one ain’t come in yet.
I asked her if I could touch her tits, and she said Yes, but only the small one. That’s no fun, I said. So she said that if we stayed friends, maybe in sixth-grade I could touch them both.
We’re in fifth-grade now.
I can’t wait till next year. When I can touch that big ol tit.

#13 A Black Guy, a White Guy, an Asian and a Greek Walk Into a Bar

A Black Guy, a White Guy, an Asian and a Greek Walk Into a Bar
Jonathan Greer

-Yo Jerome! Henry said. You see that hottie-with-the-body checking you out?
-Where? asked Nikos and Takashi.
-Nevermind, said Henry. Besides, you know what they say about guys like Jerome.
-Yeah, you never go back, said Jerome.
-Actually, I heard it was ‘Once you go black, you’re a single parent.’
-Oh Snap! crooned Takashi and Nikos.
Jerome frowned and said, What about ‘Once you go white, you live in a doublewide.’
-Whoa! Takashi said, slapping Nikos five.
-What’s so funny, Tak? Henry asked. After all, you know what they say about Asians.
-Tell us! Nikos shouted.
-‘Once you go Asian you wonder if it ever technically happened.’
The laughter exploded.
-Ah you think that funny? asked Takashi. I hear what they say about Greek people.
-What about Greeks?
-That ‘Once you go Greek you don’t sit for a week.’
The four men fell from their barstools, gasping for air.

#12 Death Wednesday

Death Wednesday
Jonathan Greer

-Seriously? He asked. The look on his face said it all. -You take me to Walmart the day before Thanksgiving? Did I do something to offend you?
She laughed and reached for a box of bread crumbs.
-I mean, I think I’d know what I had done to deserve this. Walmart. On Death Wednesday. Nice.
-Death Wednesday? She asked, scanning the ingredients on the back of the box.
-Yes. It’s like Black Friday, but worse. At least you get killer deals on Friday. Some good comes out of it. But this, here he pointed to the scrambling horde, This sucks. This is just punishment for the unprepared. We don’t deserve this.
She put the box in the cart. -Well, at least we’re together. We could try to have fun.
They walked to the checkstand. The line seemed infinite.
-Death Wednesday, huh, she said in a daze.
-Happy Thanksgiving, he muttered, his face already in a tabloid.

#11 A Business Meeting In New York

A Business Meeting In New York
Jonathan Greer

The two men noticed the smell before they saw him. Like malt liquor and stale sweat. The bum approached, hand outstretched.
-Anything helps.
The first man pulled his wallet from his suit jacket.
-Sorry, no cash. He smiled and thumbed out a gold Visa card. You take plastic?
The other man turned away, having seen this before. The bum didn’t flinch.
-Here’s how you do it, he went on. Turn in a few tin cans and set up an LLC. Call it ‘iStink,Inc’ or something. Then get a merchant account and a wireless card-reader. Five dollar minimum. Now that’s how you panhandle….
-Don’t be a dick, Don, the second man cut in, and handed the bum a few dollars.
The filthy man walked on. Don shouted after him, It’s a cashless society, buddy! Get wise! You could rule this town!
The wind picked up and scattered the hackle and the stench.