He said it with such stoic angst, staring deep into his beer like it stretched for miles and he could just see the bottom, his eyes wide and far away. He only looked up when he heard a muffled strangling sound. His eyes narrowed.
“Are you laughing at me?”
She shook her head slowly, mouth clamped shut, until finally she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Peals of laughter rang down on him, drawing attention from some of the other barflies. Still she laughed, gripping her bottle of beer for support. A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Okay…it’s not that funny,” he said, waiting her out. After another minute she started to collect herself. Laughter turned to hitched breaths. She wiped at her eyes.
“Babe, what do you take me for?” she asked. “I’m supposed to believe that…that for centuries bad stuff just happens to go down around you, and when it does, you just happen to make the wrong choice?”
“In a nutshell, yeah.”
“Bah!” she laughed again. “You-oh! This is too good! You’re-you’re just an innocent victim in the comedy errors that is your life!”
“If you don’t believe me-”
“I don’t!”
‘Well you damn well should! I’m cursed! It’s a fact!”
“Mm hm, okay, yes, of course. A curse that makes you sex up the waitress married to the possessive cook, or rob the convience store because you left your money in the car.”
“Yes!”
“No! It’s just you being your dumb, coyote self. You fucked the waitress in the bathroom with her armed husband in the next room and you chose to steal, I mean, you don’t even need to be supernatural to leave shit at the counter and run for your wallet.”
“Yes, but that’s what I’m saying. I’m incapable of making the good decision. I can’t do it. I must always pick the bad choice. That’s the curse.”
“Oh. Are you sure you’re not just stupid?”
“…Really?”
“Oh, okay, so, what if I give you the choice of feeling me up and getting your ass kicked, or not and keeping all your teeth?”
His eyes flicked down to her shirt and back.
“Please don’t make me do this.”
Inspiration:
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