Super Sad True Love Story

CHUNG.WON.PARK TO EUNI-TARD:

Eunhee,

Why you no respond to Mommy? Three times I call and right. We have dinner with Uncle Joon I make dolsot bap just like you like with extra crunchy rice from the pot bottom. When I was little girl we didn’t eat rice from bottom because we are from good family and we only give nooroonggi to beggars, but now I know you like it so I always cook dolsot bap too long even when you not here because I miss you so much!! Ha, I try to make unhappy face, but it come out happy, so maybe Jesu telling me something! Be grateful and throw away of yourself because you are blessed in Christ. We are much more happy family now that you are close by and watching on Sally. Daddy love you very much but I have trouble in my heart. I see Joy Lee mother at H-Mart. You say you stay at Joy apartment in Manhattan but Mrs. Lee say it not true. Why you lie to Mommy? I find out everything anyway. Maybe you living now with some meeguk boy in dirty apartment? So shocking. So shocking. You come back home and live with us. Daddy much better now. Sally need you to be top roll model so you stay away from dirty meeguk boy. I know my english bad but you understand what I write I think.

I love you,

Mommy

Oh, what is 3200-yuan-peg-dollar “miscellaneous charge” on AlliedWasteCVS account?? This in addition to regular finance charge? I try to up-end link to new LSAT Prep Course in Fort Lee which Mrs. Lee say make Joy get best result. 174 and before she had 154. I ask other Mommies at Church what they got and this very good improvement.

EUNI-TARD: Lenny, I thought I asked you to clean the bathtub. This apartment is DISGUSTINGLY DIRTY. I’ve swiffered the kitchen floor and the bathroom floor already and vacuumed the carpet in the foyer too. Do it today! I don’t like living in a pig-sty.

LABRAMOV: Euny, I’m sorry but we have to stay late at work today. There’s a mandatory meeting about the Debt Crisis and the LNWI protest thing in Central Park and D.C. They think the Fed may default on the dollar this year (!) and not all our clients’ money is totally yuan-pegged. I have to pull up like a thousand records by six o’clock. I think Joshie’s going to meet the Chinese Central Banker! Anyway, it’s pretty good for my career that they trust me with this kind of stuff.

EUNI-TARD: So? What does that have to do with the bathtub?

LABRAMOV: Maybe over the weekend we can have a little cleaning party.

EUNI-TARD: It’s mostly your hair in the bathtub, you know. You’re the one who sheds 24/7.

LABRAMOV: I know. I’ve never really cleaned the bathtub before, so maybe next time we can switch chores.

EUNI-TARD: I’ve shown you how to do it three times. You’re brain-smart enough when it comes to dollar defaults or whatever but you can’t clean the bathtub?

LABRAMOV: Maybe you can supervise me while I do it over the weekend.

EUNI-TARD: Never mind. I’ll just do it myself. It’s easier in the end to just do everything myself.

LABRAMOV: No, don’t do it! Wait until I have some free time. I’m sorry it’s so busy at work.

LABRAMOV: Hello! Are you there?

LABRAMOV: Are you mad at me?

LABRAMOV: Eunice!

EUNI-TARD: Ugh.

LABRAMOV: What?

EUNI-TARD: I hate this.

LABRAMOV: What can I do to make you feel better? I’ll clean all weekend, top to bottom.

EUNI-TARD: Nothing. Nothing you can do. I can’t change you. So I guess I just have to take on all these responsibilities myself.

LABRAMOV: That’s not true, Eunice.

LABRAMOV: I AM changing. It just takes time.

LABRAMOV: Let’s have a nice dinner at that Brazilian place in the village. My treat.

EUNI-TARD: Don’t forget to pick up the TWO-PLY toilet paper on the way home.

LABRAMOV: I won’t forget.

EUNI-TARD: You always forget. That’s why you’re a tuna-brain.

LABRAMOV: Ha ha. I’m glad you’re not mad at me.

EUNI-TARD: Don’t count your blessings, nerd.

LABRAMOV: I’m not counting anything.

EUNI-TARD: I just want a nice, clean apartment, Lenny. Don’t you want to come home to a nice, clean apartment too? Don’t you want to be proud of where you live? Isn’t that what being an adult is about? It’s not just about reading Tolsoy and sounding smart. Big whoop.

LABRAMOV: Reading who? Big what?

EUNI-TARD: Forget it. I got to run to the laundry. Who else is going to pick up your undies? By the way, you should wear boxer briefs not just plain old regular briefs. They provide more support. You always complain that your balls hurt after a long walk, well why do you think that is?

LABRAMOV: Because I wear bad underwear.

EUNI-TARD: Who loves you, kokiri?

13 AMY GREENBERG’S “MUFFINTOP HOUR”:

FROM THE DIARIES OF LENNY ABRAMOV

JUNE 30

Dear Diary,

So, after the huge success with my parents, I asked Eunice to come out with me to Staten Island to meet my friends. I guess my intentions were self-aggrandizing and superficial. I wanted to introduce Eunice to my boys, impress them because she was so young and pretty. And I wanted to impress her because Noah and his girlfriend, Amy, were so Media.

The first part worked-you can’t really meet Eunice without appreciating her youth and her cool, shimmering indifference. The second part not so much.

The night in question was what we called Family Night, when all the boys invited their respective partners to Cervix, the kind of night when I was usually minus girlfriend and feeling like a fifth wheel. But on that night it would be Noah and his emotive girlfriend, Amy Greenberg, Vishnu and Grace, and Eunice and me, the couple-in- progress.

Even on the way to the subway, walking arm in arm, I tried to show my girl off to the denizens of Grand Street, but the selection of Eunice-appreciators was a bit thin that day. A crazy white man brushing his teeth in broad daylight. A retired Jew throwing a plastic cup of Coke at a discarded mattress. A feuding Aztec couple hitting each other over the head with two plastic yellow daisies from within the unremitting brick facade of a housing project.

I had almost made it to the subway without incident. But by the razor-wire-surrounded lot next to the RiteAid, where our neighborhood’s resident shitter would squat in the middle of the day, I noticed a curious thing. A new billboard had gone up, courtesy of my employer, the Staatling-Wapachung Corporation. It depicted a familiar latticework of glass and pomposity, a series of three-story apartments crashing into one another at odd angles like a bunch of half-melted ice cubes in a stirred drink. “HABITATS EAST,” the sign proclaimed, beside the flags of the United Arab Emirates, China-Worldwide, and the European Union.