March 17, 2006

Single White Female

A Phone Conversation Between Me and My Little Sister (The Dirty, Rotten, Thieving Liar)

Time: Twenty minutes ago
Place: Me, at work, at my desk.

ME: Hello?
THE SEEMINGLY-INNOCENT FACE OF BETRAYAL: Hi.
ME: Um, hi. [checks caller ID] Why are you at my house?
SIFB: I’m spending the night. Quick—what is the name of the chick I hate?
ME: The chick you hate.
SIFB: Yeah.
ME: That one.
SIFB: Yes.
ME: Keira Knightley.
SIFB: No, older. Sean something.
ME: Oh, from that one show. And Stripes.
SIFB: Yeah. YOUNG!
ME: That’s it.
SIFB: Sean Young. OK. I forgot her name.
ME: Glad I could help.
SIFB: Yup. Thanks.
ME: I’m a big help like that.
SIFB: Yes, you are. Thank you. I gotta go—
ME: Know what else I’m helpful for? Clothes.
(pause)
ME: You know, like shirts.
SIFB: …what?
ME: Did you steal one of my shirts?
SIFB: No.
ME: Just to wear?
SIFB: No.
ME: Because you had nothing else, and didn’t pack any clothes, except you really did but they’re not as nice as mine, and you figured I’d never find out? This isn’t happening?
SIFB: No.
ME: So you’re not wearing one of my shirts right now.
SIFB: No.
(pause)
ME: At all.
SIFB: Dammit—who told you?
ME: You always steal my clothes when you come over. Sure as you soak the bathroom floor when you shower.
SIFB: Did Dad tell you?
ME: I told you, I just knew.
SIFB: Well, I needed a shirt.
ME: Which one?
SIFB: [hesitantly] Your London one.
ME: OH—
SIFB: --sorry sorry sorry--
ME: So not only did you STEAL a shirt, but you chose my FAVORITE shirt?
SIFB: It’s not you favorite!
ME: It might be!
SIFB: I’m sorry! I just have to go to the store!
ME: How did you imagine you’d get away with this, anyway?
SIFB: I though I’d wear it and put it back.
ME: In the closet?
SIFB: Yeah.
ME: That is FUNKY.
SIFB: Or in your dirty clothes.
ME: Wouldn’t I get suspicious that I didn’t remember wearing it?
SIFB: You forget things all the time.
ME: Nice.
SIFB: I’m sorry.
ME: You lied. You sat there and let me go on and then lied to me.
SIFB: I know. I feel bad.
ME: You should.
SIFB: I do. I have to go to the store.
ME: I can tell; you’re rushing the apologies.
SIFB: I know!
ME: Lacks sincerity.
SIFB: I KNOW!
ME: Have fun shopping. Buy yourself some clothes.
SIFB: FINE.
ME: Don’t you get all pissy with me—you’re the filthy rotten liar here.
SIFB: I know and I feel bad but I have to go; Mom’s waiting.
ME: Does she know you’re a rotten liar?
SIFB: I’m betting she will by the end of the day.
ME: Too damn right she will. I bet she cries.
SIFB: At your SHIRT?
ME: At her baby becoming a liar. She’ll question everything you’ve ever told her.
SIFB: Sure she will.
ME: And I’ll be the new favorite.
SIFB: Keep dreaming. I could commit murder and that’d never happen.
ME: Maybe. Depends who you killed.
SIFB: I’m not killing anyone—I already feel guilty about your stupid shirt.
ME: Are you still wearing it?
SIFB: Yeah…
ME: That’s some guilt you’ve got. You’re going to need Pepcid for the ulcers.
SIFB: I have to go shopping now.
ME: Have fun. Think about all the ways you can make this up to me.
SIFB: Oh, I will.
ME: Good.
SIFB: Sleeves are tight, by the way.
ME: THAT’S BECAUSE IT’S MY
SIFB: [giggles] Bye!
ME: BYE.

You can see why she’s favorite. And yeah, my older sister totally ratted her out.

No comments: