The Idiot Girls' Action-Adventure Club by Laurie Notaro Page B

off. I will pretend not to be pissed off. In the meantime, I will count how many drags I can get off of one cigarette. I have never counted before, I will be interested to know, to find out, just how many times I can inhale on this cigarette.
    One drag.
    Just one ring, one little jingle; it’s not too much to ask.
    Ring.
    I will make it ring with my mind, I will make it ring, if I think hard enough, it has to happen.
    Two drags.
    I’m thinking, thinking hard, I can make this phone ring. Come on, please phone, ring.
    The phone looks at me again, shakes its head. Nope.
    Piece of shit. Three drags.
    I promise I will not be mad if that phone will ring. I will be nice. Pleasant. Charming. “No, no, it’s quite all right,” that’s what I’ll say, “don’t worry about last night. I understand, truly I do.”
    Four drags. Am I kidding? He stood me up! Who the hell does he think he is? Gregg Allman? Because if Gregg Allman stood me up, I could never be mad, hell no, he’s Gregg Allman! Goddamnit. I will not let him make me feel this way. I am a woman. Women are strong, much stronger than men. You know what? I don’t even want him to call. I don’t. Even if he calls, I won’t pick up the phone. I’ll just sit here and laugh is what I’ll do. You’re goddamn right. I’ll laugh. Ha ha ha. Let it ring a million times, I’m not gonna pick it up. Asshole. The next time I see him, I’m gonna punch him. Square in the gut. And I’m going to walk right up to him and say, “I hate you.” No, then he’ll know that I’d waited. I’m not going to say anything at all. I’m not going to let him know that I waited. I won’t give him the satisfaction. No! I’m going to tell him that
I’m
sorry that
I
didn’t show up! Yes! I’m going to call him right now and tell him that.
    Eight drags.
    Where’s the phone number? I should call Jamie, she would know what to do. She could tell me if I should call him or not. She would say don’t call him. Don’t call him. Here it is, here’s the number, I hope I wake the bastard up, I do. I’m dialing, I’m dialing, I’m done dialing, it’s ringing. Oh my God, it’s ringing. What the hell am I doing? It’s ringing. Shit. What if a girl answers? Hang up the phone now!
    I slam the phone down and push it away, evil thing. I dig voraciously through my nightstand until I find a big, thick black marker, pull off the cap, and victoriously mark his name and phone number out of my telephone book and out of my life.
    HA! Thought you got me, but you didn’t. I am not going to call you, I will not be the fool in this circus, no way, little man, find yourself another idiot, buddy. I’m not going to play your games, count me out.
    The cigarette is gone. I’ve lost count. I pound it out in the ashtray.
    That’s right, I am a woman, I come from a long line of women, my mother was a woman and so was my grandmother, yes, she was a woman, too! I like being alone, I can do whatever I want, I don’t need him. What is he? Someone to make me feel miserable, to make me cry, a dog is what he is. All men are dogs. I LOVE ME. I love doing anything I want, whenever I want. I don’t need anyone else to make me feel fulfilled or satisfied! I wish I could call myself! I wish I could date me, I am a wonderful person, and it’s his fault if he can’t see that!
    Wait a minute—I don’t remember hearing a dial tone when I picked up the phone, I don’t think there was one. I know I’m late on the bill, I’m sure of that, but I don’t remember a dial tone. Maybe the phone is shut off. He’s probably been trying to call all morning and can’t get through. Oh no. I feel horrible. The phone is shut off, I bet; that’s why it—
stupid.
Moron. I didn’t hear a dial tone, but I
did
hear it ring at his apartment. Idiot girl. Serves me right. I was getting all ready to forgive him, but not now. Hell no, not now. He can go to hell. Straight to hell. Dance with the devil, for all I care.
    But what if