Super Sad True Love Story

SALLYSTAR: Yeah, we just got off the bus. It’s crazy here. There are all these National Guard troops that just got back from Venezuela and they didn’t get the Service Bonus they were promised so they’re marching on the Mall with all their guns.

EUNI-TARD: WITH THEIR GUNS??? Sally, maybe you should like LEAVE.

SALLYSTAR: No, it’s okay. They’re actually pretty nice. It’s not fair what the Bipartisans are doing to them. Do you know how many of them died in Ciudad Bolivar? And do you know many of them are like mentally and physically screwed up for life? So what if the government’s broke? What are they going to do about our troops? They have a responsibility. This is what happens when there’s only one party in charge and we live in a police state. Yeah, I know, I’m not supposed to talk like that over Teens.

EUNI-TARD: Sally, this is ridiculous. Why can’t you march in New York? I’ll march with you if you want, but I don’t want you doing these crazy things by yourself.

SALLYSTAR: Have you been to the house yet? I didn’t hear anything from Mommy.

EUNI-TARD: No. Soon. I don’t want to see dad just yet. Has he been talking about me?

SALLYSTAR: No, but he’s sulking for some reason and we can’t figure out why.

EUNI-TARD: Who cares?

SALLYSTAR: I think Uncle Joon is coming.

EUNI-TARD: Great, dad will have to give him money and he’ll just go to Atlantic City and blow it all. Like dad’s practice has been doing so well that he can afford it.

SALLYSTAR: Where are you staying?

EUNI-TARD: Remember that girl Joy Lee?

SALLYSTAR: From Long Beach? The one who had the armadillo?

EUNI-TARD: She lives downtown now.

SALLYSTAR: Fancy.

EUNI-TARD: Not really. It’s by some projects. But don’t worry, it’s safe.

SALLYSTAR: Reverend Suk’s Crusade is next month. You should come.

EUNI-TARD: I hope you’re joking.

SALLYSTAR: If you don’t want to come to the house you can at least see your family. And maybe you can meet someone. There’s tons of Korean guys at the Crusade.

EUNI-TARD: How do you know I’m still not with Ben?

SALLYSTAR: The white guy from Rome?

EUNI-TARD: Yeah WHITE guy. Wow, Barnard’s really opened your mind.

SALLYSTAR: Don’t be sarcastic. I hate that.

EUNI-TARD: Can’t I just see you and talk to you without having to go to some stupid Geejush event? When are you coming home?

SALLYSTAR: Tomorrow. Want to have dinner at Madangsui tomorrow?

EUNI-TARD: Minus dad.

SALLYSTAR: K.

EUNI-TARD: Love you, Sally! Call me the minute you get out of DC and let me know you’re safe.

SALLYSTAR: I love you too.

EUNI-TARD TO LABRAMOV:

Lenny,

I’m going out shopping, if you come home and the delivery comes, can you please make sure the milk is antibiotic-free not just fat-free this time and that they didn’t forget the Lavazza Qualita Oro Espresso. Then put the veal and the whole branzino in the fridge and set the white peaches out on the countertop, I’ll take care of them later. Don’t forget to put the fish and veal in the fridge, Lenny! And if you’re going to do the dishes please wipe down the countertop. You always leave water all over the place. You’re worried about roaches and water bugs, what do you think they’re attracted to? Have a good day, nerd-face.

Eunice

11 THE NUCLEAR OPTION

FROM THE DIARIES OF LENNY ABRAMOV

JUNE 25

Dear Diary,

I learned how to say “elephant” in Korean this week.

We went to the Bronx Zoo, because Noah Weinberg said on his stream that the ARA was going to close the place down and ship all the animals to Saudi Arabia “to die of heatstroke.” I never know which part of Noah’s streams to believe, but, the way we live now, you can never be too sure. We had fun with the monkeys and “Jose the Beaver” and all the smaller animals, but the highlight was this beautiful savannah elephant named Sammy. When we ambled up to his humble enclosure, Eunice grabbed my nose and said, “Kokiri.”

“Ko,” she explained, “means ‘nose.’ Kokiri. Long nose. ‘Elephant’ in Korean.”

“I hab a long dose because I’m Jewish,” I said, trying to pull her hand off my face. “Dere’s duthing I can do aboud it.”

“You’re so sensitive, Lenny,” she said, laughing. “I heart your nose so much. I wish I had a nose.” And she started kissing my comma of a snout in full view of the pachyderm, going gently up and down the endless thing with her tough little lips. As she did so, I locked eyes with the elephant, and I watched myself being kissed in the prism of the elephant’s eye, the giant hazel apparatus surrounded with flecks of coarse gray eyebrow. He was twenty-five, Sammy, at the middle of his lifespan, much like I was. A lonely elephant, the only one the zoo had at the moment, removed from his compatriots and from the possibility of love. He slowly flicked back one massive ear, like a Galician shopkeeper of a century ago spreading his arms as if to say, “Yes, this is all there is.” And then it occurred to me, lucky me mirrored in the beast’s eye, lucky Lenny having his trunk kissed by Eunice Park: The elephant knows. The elephant knows there is nothing after this life and very little in it. The elephant is aware of his eventual extinction and he is hurt by it, reduced by it, made to feel his solitary nature, he who will eventually trample his way through bush and scrub to lie down and die where his mother once trembled at her haunches to give him life. Mother, aloneness, entrapment, extinction. The elephant is essentially an Ashkenazi animal, but a wholly rational one-it too wants to live forever.

“Let’s go,” I said to Eunice. “I don’t want kokiri to see you kissing my nose like that. It’ll only make him sadder.”

“Aw,” she said. “You’re so sweet to animals, Len. I think that’s a good sign. My dad had a dog once and he really took care of her.”

Yes, diary, so many good signs! Such a positive week. Progress on every front. Hitting most of the important categories. Lov[ing] Eunice (Point No. 3), Be[ing] Nice to Parents (Within Limits) (Point No. 5), and Work[ing] Hard for Joshie (No. 1). I’ll get to our (yes, our!) visit with the Abramovs in a second, but let me give you a little breakdown on the work situation.

Well, the first thing I did at Post-Human Services was march into the Eternity Lounge and talk to the guy in the red bandana and SUK DIK suit, who put me on his stream “101 People We Need to Feel Sorry For,” Darryl from Brown, who stole my desk while I was in Rome. “Hey, guy,” I said. “Look, I appreciate the attention, but I got this new girlfriend with 780 Fuckability”-I had made sure to put an Image of Eunice I had taken at the zoo front and center on my apparat screen-“and I’m kind of, like, trying to play it real coolio with her. So would you mind taking me off your stream?”

“Fuck you, Rhesus,” the young fellow said. “I do whatever I want. You’re not, like, my parent. And even if you