“Hey, JP, dude . . . are you having a mental health crisis?”
“No,” I shout and stand. “I’m not. I’m just a concerned citizen. You walk around these streets, never noticing pigeons, thinking they’re just an accessory to a Bob Ross landscape, and then, bam, you hear pigeons are being euthanized and the world comes tumbling down around you. Sure, I saved the polar bears today because looking at those emaciated motherfuckers made me physically ill but, dude, I’m going to start a goddamn campaign, and the logo will be a pigeon in flight. And the money will go to saving all the pigeons because no one cares about them. No one thinks they’re worth their time. Just because a pigeon might have a fucked-up childhood and can’t fly like the rest of the birds, that doesn’t mean that the pigeon should be isolated.”
“Uh . . . JP, are you . . . are you a pigeon?”
“I’m a fucking man, you nimrod! Jesus Christ, are you even listening to me?”
“Are you listening to yourself?”
“I am. I am listening, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who fucking cares about those angelic, stout-bodied birds.”
“So, are you going to adopt one?”
“What? God, no. Fuck, imagine me with a goddamn pigeon. What the hell would I do with it?”
“I honestly don’t know, dude. You sound like you need a hobby or a friend.”
“Or a girlfriend,” I mutter as I sit back down in my chair.
“A girlfriend?” Breaker asks. “Tell me more about this, because as far as I know, you’ve never really wanted one.”
“Well, you know what, fuckstick? People change. Okay? Why can’t anyone see that? People fucking change, and I think it’s time that we all sit down, have a glass of wine, and talk about how someone named a freaking pigeon Kazoo and got away with it.”
“What’s wrong with the name Kazoo?”
“It’s such a slap in the face to the pigeon community. Let’s name this majestic feathered friend after a simple twenty-five cent child’s toy that gives the vocalist a timbral quality when playing it.”
“I love you, man, but I really think you’ve lost it.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Nope, I’m seeing things so fucking clearly right now. Like a goddamn crystal.”
“It seems like that crystal is foggy.”
“Fuck, do you know what I should do?”
“Seek a counselor?”
“I should send an email.”
“Uh, what sort of email? You know, sending emails while intoxicated is never a good idea.”
“I’m not intoxicated. I’m finally seeing things the way that I should.”
“And how is that?” Breaker asks.
“Well, I want a girlfriend, and I need a date for the wedding, so I should send an email.”
“Wait, can we go back to this ‘wanting a girlfriend’ thing? Where’s this coming from?”
“Dude, can’t you fucking keep up?”
“No, I really can’t. One moment you’re talking about pigeons, and the next you’re saying you’re going to send an email about girlfriends. I really think we should slow down, reel it in, and maybe drink some coffee.”
I heave a heavy sigh. “Christ, I told you how I like Kelsey, how the urge to be around her is so consuming that I feel like . . . fuck, I feel like I can’t breathe. She’s so fucking pretty, and her smile makes me happy, and the way she laughs creates a bolt of lust straight to my cock. And she’s so weird and quirky and likes love but is terrible at it for some reason. And fuck is she uptight about things like organization and she loves being right, but I like that about her because she’s neurotic and I’m a bit neurotic in my own way—fucking pigeons, you know, man—so I think we’d make a great fucking couple but she doesn’t like me and just wants to be my friend because she thinks that I’m just some player who can’t commit and, sure, maybe that’s in my past, but like I said, people change and I want to change for her, but she doesn’t want to see that so she friend-zoned me and she’s now going out with Derek, who didn’t even fucking kiss her on the first date, what a douche. He shook her hand. Like, dude, have you fucking seen this girl? She’s not handshake material, she’s marriage material. She’s the girl that you take home to your parents. You don’t fucking shake her hand at the end of a date, you kiss her, claim her, make her yours. Well, she’s going out with him again, so I need a girlfriend, so I’m going to send an email.”