The
only reason not to look at him was that if I did, I'd doubtlessly fall
for his entire program. It was hard enough to resist as it was. So I
taped my eyelids closed with duct tape in the lobby. I knew there were
12 steps to the door. I knew the door opened in and that 3 steps later
a right turn and an additional step would place me directly in front of
the couch.
He was named Albert and he ripped the tape from my eyelids roughly, so
they tore a bit at the sides and bled down my cheeks. Albert shaved,
which is how you can tell he is a bad guy.
"My eyelids are bleeding."
"Adopt my program."
He handed me a pen. His dog began to lick the blood from my face. I pet the dog and hoped he was not rabid.
Albert wouldn't own a rabid dog. He would own a lahsa apso named Derek
Jeter. In fact, the dog used to be Derek Jeter before he became a dog.
"Please explain the points of the program to me."
"I own Derek Jeter. Therefor, I possess excellent hand-eye coordination."
"Good point." It wasn't. but I signed the sheet of paper so I could go home and cover my eyelids with Bactene and gauze.
I signed the sheet of paper. On the line that said 'name' I wrote,
'Louis Althusser'. Then I crossed that out and wrote, 'Louis Vuitton'.
It didn't matter. I could have written Poop Eye. Albert shook my hand
and stamped my papers. Next they would tattoo me with hundreds of
little mountains.
+++
I started shaving. Now I am a bad guy. I can't help it because I am in
love with Derek Jeter. When he licked my face, little bubbles of saliva
entered my bloodstream carrying a secret message that he was attracted
to me.
Everyone had tattoos of little mountains. That was part of Albert's
program. Also, when you're in love, you let Derek Jeter bark in morse
code and then try to figure out what he desires.
I am lying again. I just shaved because I could nick my face and then
Derek Jeter would lick the blood off when I came to Albert's office to
file a change of identity form.
What I did not expect was that after I showed up as a bad guy, Albert
would clap his hands on the sides of my smooth cheeks and take me to
eat lunch with him.
At lunch, the restaurant was spinning very fast. It was a revolving
restaurant, but it was supposed to revolve slowly. I vomited chicken
parmesian on Albert's head and Derek Jeter started licking it off of
him. I was so jealous I also started licking it off of him too, out of
the hope that maybe our tongues would cross and then I would be
french-kissing Derek Jeter.