Free A Matter of Love in da Bronx by Paul Argentini Page A

pleased I please you, Pasha, mine, in ways you did not dream possible. Excrement.
    Don't you worry about the foreman. I'll worry the foreman! I'll take care of your production tickets, and you'll find an extra hundred bucks in your paycheck for the designing work you've done. What I'd really like to give you is this hundred dollar bill. Ever own one of these, have you? A-fucking hard to come by. I'll tell you that. We'll just wait until everyone leaves so we can be alone. You see, my wife doesn't understand what I need.
    How do you read me so well, Pasha! Where does thine depth of understanding spring? How fortuitous for me your talent lies in arousing my desire that you might with equal skill quench my calorific quim. Enema.
    --Whatdayamean you'll be late for class? Fuck the class! How long you been here? Five-six years? Didn't I do nice by you? Treat you right? Give you a chance to do some real dress designing. Don't I give you a job? Worth keeping right? And all what I'm asking is to be nice to me right back. Come on! Take the C-note. Hundred bucks just to let me...you know...let me... In. My finger... Nothing more. Behind.
    Shitbrain.
    Mary found herself in the Chock Full of Nuts just east of Broadway leaning heavily on the counter, listlessly stirring a coffee--an indifferent appetite for the hamburger before her. There just had to be some signal system that would allow her to communicate more carefully with herself rather than go into disconnect, separating herself neatly into components each doing a different task. It wasn't a question of a personality disorder. She had that pretty much figured out. Yet, had she spoken to anyone about her capacity the instant diagnosis would be multiple personality disorder, schizoid in the least, with ego dysfunction brought on with early menstrual trauma complicated by regenerative figmental relapses. In her own mind, simply she had the ability to do two things at once. Born and bred partly in boredom. A true self-defensive mechanism. Early school grades. Ho-hum, teacher. No, no skipping a grade for you, so learn to write upside down;...and backwards; ...and mirror image; ...now try it all left handed. Ho-ho-ho-hum! As if just plain school wasn't bad enough. Then came sanctifying sanctum sanctotum Sunday school: Question--Which are the chief sources of sin? Answer--The chief sources of sin are seven: Pride, Covetousness, Lust, Anger, Gluttony, Envy, and Sloth, and they are commonly called capital sins. Question: What is pride? Answer--Pride is an excessive love of our own ability so that we would rather sinfully disobey than humble ourselves. Question: What effect has pride on our souls? Answer--Pride begets in our souls sinful ambition, vainglory, presumption and hypocrisy. Question: What is covetousness? Answer--Covetousness is an excessive desire for worldly things. Question: What effect has covetousness on our souls? Answer--Covetousness begets in our souls unkindness, dishonesty, deceit and want of charity. Question--What is lust? Answer--Lust is an excessive desire for the sinful pleasures forbidden by the Sixth Commandment. Question: What effect has lust on our souls? Answer: Lust begets in our souls a distaste for holy things, a perverted conscience, a hatred of God, and it very frequently leads to a complete loss of faith. Glib you are with the back and forth, how about somebody try some of mine? Question--How come I've completely lost my faith and have yet to lose my hymen? I've never been married, so how can I break the Sixth Commandment; Thou shalt not commit adultery, if I've never known the sinful pleasures I'm not to have? Or, do you say fornication of itself is forgiven? Ho-hum. More boring. And Sunday school, too, helped teach me how to escape through the window of my mind. But, the best reason I acquired the talent came from my father. I can never remember Rocco Dolorosso not being in the wheelchair though it's been since before I went to high school. I don't