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Authors: Gary Shteyngart

Super Sad True Love Story (18 page)

BOOK: Super Sad True Love Story
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We fight a lot. I guess it’s mostly my fault because I don’t appreciate his great personality and just keep focusing on how he looks. Then there’s the fact that he desperately wants to meet my parents and there’s no effing way that’s ever going to happen. Oh, and he said he’ll take me to Long Island to meet HIS PARENTS! Like next week. What is wrong with him? He just keeps pushing me and pushing me on the parents issue. I told him I was leaving him and going back to Fort Lee and then my poor sweet nerd got down on his knees and started crying and saying how much I meant
to him. He was so pathetic and so cute. I felt so sorry for him that I took off all my clothes, except for my TotalSurrenders and just got in bed with him. He felt me up a little but we fell asleep pretty fast. Damn, Precious Pony. I’m just one chatty ass-hookah these days. I’m going to sign off, but here’s an Image of me and Lenny at the zoo in Central Park. He’s to the left of the bear. Don’t gag!!!!

GRILLBITCH
TO
EUNI-TARD:

Dear Precious Panda,

Welcome back, sticky bun! OK, I gotta run to the Pussy sale again, but really quickly, um, I saw the Image you sent and I really don’t know about this Lenny. It’s not like he’s the most disgusting guy I’ve ever seen, but he’s just not the kind of person I pictured you with. I know you’re saying he has all these other qualities but, like, can you imagine how your parents would react if you brought him to their house or to church? Your father would just stare at him, clearing his throat all night long, “ahem, ahem,” and then when he left he’d call you a whore or worse. I’m not saying one way or another, I’m just saying you’re really beautiful and thin so don’t settle. Take your time!

Oh God, I went to my cousin Nam Jun’s wedding and I had to say this like totally vomitatious speech to him and his fat halmoni bride. She’s like five years older than him and has ankles like redwoods. Slap a green visor and a perm on her, that ajumma is done! And the thing is they really love each other, all they kept doing is crying in each other’s arms and she kept feeding him ddok. Sick, I know, but I wonder how I could learn to love somebody like that. Sometimes I walk around as if in a dream, like I’m on the outside looking in, and Gopher and my parents and my brothers are just these ghosts floating past me. Oh, and at the wedding there were all these adorable little girls all painted like cats and wearing little gowns and they kept chasing this little boy around and trying to wrestle him down and I thought of your little cousin Myong-hee. She must be what three by now? I miss her so much I may just drop by your cousin’s house and squeeze her to death! Anyway, welcome home, sweet poontang of mine. Big California kiss your way.

JUNE 19

EUNI-TARD:
Sally, are you bidding on the gray ankle boots on Padma?

SALLYSTAR:
How did you know?

EUNI-TARD:
Duh, you’re my sister. And they’re size 30. Anyway, stop bidding, we’re completing against each other.

EUNI-TARD:
Oops. COMPETING against each other.

SALLYSTAR:
Mom wanted the olive ones, but they didn’t have her size.

EUNI-TARD:
I’m going to check out the Retail Corridor at Union Square. Don’t get the olive. You have an apple-shaped body so you should wear only dark below the waist and NEVER, NEVER wear empire-waist tops, which make you look totally top-heavy.

SALLYSTAR:
You’re back in the States?

EUNI-TARD:
Don’t sound so excited. Are you in D.C.?

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 Qualità 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

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 “José 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 äppärät 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 so
were
my parent I’d still tell you to go plug yourself.”

As before, cute young people were laughing at our interaction, their laughter slow and thick and full of educated malice. I was frankly too stunned to reply (I was of the opinion that I was slowly befriending the
SUK DIK
guy), and even more stunned when my co-worker Kelly Nardl stepped out from behind the fasting-glucose tester, her arms crossed over the redness of her neck and chest, her chin glistening with alkalized water. “Don’t you dare talk to Lenny like that, Darryl,” she said. “Who do you think you are? What, just because he’s older than you? I can’t wait to see you hit thirty. I’ve seen your charts. You’ve got major structural damage from when you were into heroin and carbs, and your whole stupid Boston family is predisposed to alcoholism and whatever the fuck. You think your metabolism is just going to keep you skinny like that forever? Minus the exercise? When was the last time I saw you working out at ZeroMass or No Body? You are going to age
fast
, my friend.” She took me by the arm. “Come on, Lenny,” she said.

BOOK: Super Sad True Love Story
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