"You ever gonna cut that beard?" Eva asks from the kitchen.
"With this beard and a hat and a dark pair of sunglasses,
I can pretty much dissapear," I answer.
"Yeah, or make people think you're a child molestor
who's in love with Ted Kaczinski."
She has a point. In the long run
we end up scaring the people we're afraid of.
"I'm off to the store, you want anything?" I ask,
putting my jacket on and cramming the rest of a Milky Way into my mouth.
"Yeah, pick me up a citrus Kombucha," Eva says.
"Never mind, I'll come with you."
My car's parked under swirling snowfall
and the flickering of a yellow streetlight.
We get in and warm up the engine.
Eva checks the state of her lipstick in a compact mirror
and light's a clove cigarette.
At least I think that's what it is. It smells like Christmas anyway.
She looks over at me with mischievous smile.
"So I met this very nice girl at work today," she begins.
"Oh no," I say. "You can stop right there."
"And I was thinking..." she continues.
"And no thank you," I cut her off and head into traffic.
"My heart's still bleeding from the last one."
We're careful to not slip on the ice and snow
as we cross the parking lot and enter the Stop N' Go mini-mart.
I grab a six pack of Coors Light
and a party size bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.
"And a pack of Djarum clove cigarettes," Eva says to the cashier.
"Anyway, she'd really like to meet you," Eva continues.
On the way home I protest a few more times,
but ultimately hand over the reigns.
That's all women really want anyway, right?