What’s in a name? As it turns out, a fucking lot.
But that’s life in the Gutter, where up is down, down is up, and you never answer the door when a pimp comes knocking.
But that’s life in the Gutter, where up is down, down is up, and you never answer the door when a pimp comes knocking.
Enjoi by Carl Robinette
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People always want to ask me, What did you expect when you married a girl named Enjoi?
And by people I mostly mean my grandma.
I’m always like, “Grandma just because her name was Enjoi
doesn’t mean she was a stripper-slash-semi-prostitute. I mean, her name was for
reals Enjoi. Not like some stage name or whatever.”
And grandmas just don’t understand the way names work these
days. Like how Hollywood types are always naming their kids crap like, Fruit
Salad or Sixty-Nine or Bruce, if it’s a girl.
So I’m always like, Dude. Grandma, someone can be named Enjoi
or whatever and it’s just a full-on coincidence if they happen to become a sex
worker.
Probably.
Also, I don’t even see why the fact that she was a stripper
should’ve stopped me from marrying her right then and there anyways. Strippers
aren’t necessarily career felons.
But grandmas just don’t get it when it comes to true love. I
mean back in the 1800’s they had to just get married to the first stooge their
dads told them to.
And anyway, my grandad was a hardcore dick.
Believe me.
Sure. Grandma cried at his funeral, but you know how women
are. Crying doesn’t count necessarily.
So I go, Grandma you don’t know what it’s like when you see
a beautiful maiden and it’s like nobody ever looked at you before because the
way she looks at you is so breathtakingly rad, and her whole way about her is
so luxurious, you don’t even mind that it costs money to have her keep looking
at you.
*
Have you ever seen what an unemployment check looks like in
one-dollar bills?
I have. Lots of times.
But apparently Enjoi hadn’t. You know what she said?
“Damn boy. I never saw a stack that thick in this place before.
You rich or somethin’ cutie?”
She really said that. Me, rich and cute. And everyone in the
room was staring at us like we were in some big romantic movie. Totally
everyone, with their mouths pretty much dangling open and basically drooling
because the hottest babe, and really the only babe in the room, was falling in
love with me.
The wedding was okay I guess, but the pastor guy kept
staring at Enjoi in this weird way and saying stuff like, Son, you sure you
want to do this? Or, Have you thought this through?
Jealous.
I didn’t have a bachelor party because the wedding was such
short notice and because I didn’t have what historians might call friends. But
right away Enjoi started talking about a honeymoon. And what would you rather have
anyway, a bachelor party? Or a honeymoon?
But to tell you the truth, I didn’t get either.
Enjoi drove all night to get us back to my place and the way
she drove her old pink Kay car about a bazillion miles-per-hour was a major
turn-on. But later, when she saw my apartment she just asked if I as joking.
She was all, “You better be friggin joking. You ain’t got no
money?”
“Oh, darling,” I cooed. “We don’t need that material crap. We
have love.”
Enjoi respectfully disagreed with that assessment.
My grandma said I should have called the police when her
boyfriend showed up at my door.
I’m like, “Grandma I told you already, it wasn’t her
boyfriend. It was the bouncer from the club where she danced.”
By the way he was butt-ugly.
Psych.
He was pretty handsome. A super symmetrical face and one-hundred-percent
of his teeth and strong-looking muscles.
When the guy sucker-punched me in the gut and body slammed
me hard on my own floor, I would have fought back but I had recently pulled a
hammy.
And the sun was in my eyes.
Anyways, this bouncer guy had a truck that was pretty cool I
guess, if you think new Escalades with fully loaded interiors are cool. And
would you believe that pretty much everything in a studio apartment can fit
into an SUV? Believe me, it can. And no relationship ends well. Just look at my
grandma and grandpa. He died.
So what if my marriage ended in assault and robbery?
Sometimes when I feel way crappy or bummed out at the world, I just think of her. And none of the dumb baby idiots out there can get under my skin because nobody can ever rob me of those eleven-and-a-half hours of pure bliss.
Sometimes when I feel way crappy or bummed out at the world, I just think of her. And none of the dumb baby idiots out there can get under my skin because nobody can ever rob me of those eleven-and-a-half hours of pure bliss.
