“Yeah, I’m callin’ about that free couch. Ever been urinated on?”
I hang up on the unhinged laughter. I have twenty-seven missed calls, all from unknown numbers. I rip down the flyer, but on the next lamppost, there aremore.
Me, lying in the bushes.free couch to a good home.
Me, staring dreamily at Nomi.lose weight and feel great with rx maxum pillz!
And in an incredibly low blow—me, passed out on Nomi’s couch wearing her Kiss & Tale Bookshop T-shirt with my pizza belly on full display.looking for bon jovi tix?
I race through downtown, desperately tearing down flyers while onlookers laugh behind their hands at the smelly, wet man from the pictures. If anyone from Philly Gen catches sight of these, I’ll be fired for good. After I finish, I stand panting in front of Nomi’s dispensary. On the door it states: “Opening delayed due to Dr. Julian D’Angelo’s unwarranted zoning complaint. For now, find the Stranger Drugs pop-up at the farm stand on HWY 5.”
I shriek like a madman, then jump into my car and tear off for the dinky set of farm huts huddled at the edge of town. Fresh rhubarb, cartons of overflowing strawberries, and the reddest tomatoes I’ve ever seen spill forth from bins, baskets, and shelves, but it’s the skunky smell of Nomi’s goods that’s drawn a line. She’s set up in the second hut, a similar spread of edibles from the fundraiser arrayed on platters beneath glass cloches. I stomp up to the hut, but an old woman blocks me with her cane.
“Line starts back there, kid.” She jerks her head to indicate the seven people behind her waiting. I have towait in lineto chew Nomi out? A small laugh bubbles up from behind the counter, but when I turn to glare at her, Nomi’s smirking down at the stack of cash she’s counting diligently in her hands.
“Fine,” I bark out, then spin on my heels to the back of the line. Selling marijuana on the side of the road—how is thispossiblylegal? Thatsparks an idea, and I whip out my phone in glee and text the local police hotline.
“Illicit drug deals occurring at the HWY 5 fruit stand—come quick! Many criminals!!”
I’m about to close out the messages app when the family text chain blazes to life.
The D’Angelo Family Sex Gods
MOM
Julian, what have you done now? Your face is all over town!
JULIAN
If you see any of those flyers, please, tear them down!
MARCO
He filed a zoning complaint against Nomi’s dispensary, that’s what happened! People are upset.
VERONICA D’ANGELO-BORK
A zoning complaint?! What are you, Julian, a seventy-two-year-old republican with nothing better to do?
MOM
But you like her! You kissed! This is a hell of a way to treat a good woman!!
JULIAN
MOM. Can we not discuss this on the family text chain?
MOM
After your disappointing behavior at the Pot Luck, I’m not talking to you, remember?
How could I forget? Mom’s version of the silent treatment is nonstop explanations for why she’s giving me the silent treatment.
MARCO
Julian, you need to withdraw that complaint. You’re embarrassing the entire family.
My head rears back.Me?!Embarrassthem?!
