ben_dress

N and I sit on the couch. He is skyping V. I am smoking. He says something in Russian, I catch all but a word.

“Poetry?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Dress.”

“You’re telling people I like wearing dresses?”

He nods.

“Hey. Dresses are comfortable and everyone looks good in a dress,” I say, defensively.

“I know,” he says, patting my shoulder. “I know.”

I grumble over a few drags of my cigarette. “Everyone is a bunch of prudes,” I mumble to myself. I can here V giggling.

My phone rings. It is my boss. N takes his skype to the other side of the room.

“Hey boss, what’s up?”

“Hey, got a minute?”

I step out of the room, into the kitchen.

“Yeah, yeah. What’s up?”

“Hey, so do you have a picture? I have this company that might want you to work for them and they want to see your picture.”

I try to think.

“Yeah, I should.”

“Okay, good. Cause the only picture I have of you is on WhatsApp.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s one they’d like to see.”

I set up WhatsApp years ago. I’ve been using it a lot lately for professional contacts. I try to think.

“It’s a bad one, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Is it me in a dress?”

“It’s you in a dress.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, so maybe you should think about changing that?”

I sigh. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, I was young. It was just a joke.”

“Right, well, I’ve got to get these guys a picture so?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you a decent picture.”

“Good. And uh–”

“Yeah boss, I’ll change the WhatsApp photo, too.”

“Yeah. Good. Send me a picture okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Not in a–”

“Yeah, got it.”

“Alright.”

He hangs up. I finish my cigarette in the kitchen window, trying to count the number of clients I communicate with solely through WhatsApp. I walk back into my room. N has finished skype, he sits there, sipping away at a cup of tea.

“What was that about?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I say, taking off my dress.

A Writer and an artist living in Russia

16 Comment on “Some Days, the Shoe Fits

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