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Max Shine
Exhausted and starving from three days of monitoring the tropical storm that finally dissipated before it hit landfall, Max dragged himself home. He looked in the refrigerator, but it was bare. It was too late to order out, as most of the local restaurants were closed. He needed to eat, but he didn’t even have a pack of noodles in the house. That’s when he remembered the party from the other night. Surely, Lattimore had leftovers. He hated to bother the man, but he knew he was up. He had just ridden up in the elevator with him.
Lattimore would think he was a popper, but he didn’t care. That’s what friends were for. He needed sustenance and Lattimore had it. The icing on the cake would be seeing PJ. That was enough to get him moving. He breathed into his palm testing his breath. Then he sniffed his pits. A shower was needed, but he was too tired to drag his sorry ass up the stairs to the bathroom.
Instead he grabbed a few paper towels, wet them and used the dish soap to wash up a bit. He rinsed his mouth and snagged some mints from the candy dish on the counter. After a quick spritz under each arm with fabric freshener, he headed over to his friend’s house to beg for food. Just call him TLC because he wasn’t too proud to beg.
He knocked on his neighbor’s door hoping like hell PJ would answer. Instead, he was greeted by a frowning Lattimore.
“Hey Max? What’s going on?”
“Hey, man. I hate to bother you, but I need some food and everything is closed. Do you by chance have any chance have any leftovers from the party?”
Max gave him the begging eyes and a sweet smile. He brought his hands in front of him in the praying motion to further illustrate his neediness. Max watched as a smile tipped Lattimore’s lips. He began laughing and invited him into the penthouse.
“Get your sorry ass in here. I’m pretty sure there is a ton of leftovers in there. Help yourself. I’m gonna grab a shower right quick.”
“Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Don’t mention it. You know where everything is, right?”
“I’ll find it if I don’t.”
Max pulled on the stainless-steel handle and began to sort through the stacks of food. He made a mental note to go shopping. He lived like a poor man when he had the ability to have a full refrigerator. After sorting through the stacks of containers, his mouth watered at the sight of a container of barbecue chicken. Another look and he found some delicious looking potato salad. Score!
He popped the chicken in the microwave while he fished a plate from the cabinet. Spooning up a huge serving of the potato salad he plopped it on his plate and rubbed his hands together. After spying a piece of cornbread wrapped in cellophane on the counter, he made the executive decision to grab that too. Lattimore won’t mind if I eat the last piece. The dinging of the microwave alerted him that the chicken was ready. He spooned the spicy bird onto his plate and inhaled the decadent smell. His stomach responded by growling so loudly it echoed.
Sitting at the counter, he dug into his food. Max’s eyes rolled in the back of his head at the taste of the food. It was so good. He feasted like he hadn’t eaten in a month, inhaling his food like a soldier would. He had just taken a huge bite out of the cornbread when he heard a gasp behind him. Turning his head, he saw PJ standing there with a scowl on her face.
“I know good and damn well you are not eating my chicken! Latti! Latti! Get your ass in here!”
Max chewed as fast as he could trying not to choke on the bread. His mouth was so full, he had to guzzle some water to prevent his demise. Once he was able to swallow his food, he tried his best to explain.
“PJ, it’s okay. Lattimore let me in and said I could help myself to the leftovers.”
“Maybe, but he had no right to give you my food. That is my chicken you’re devouring. And to top it off, you ate all the cornbread. I have been thinking about that food for two days! I have been working my ass off and too tired to eat. Now I come home and find your ass in here eating all my food.”
Without another word, the woman stomped off, heading up the stair and away from him. Suddenly, he no longer had an appetite.
“PJ wait…”
But she didn’t wait. It was as if he hadn’t been speaking at all. She was the most pissed off woman he had ever encountered. How did this happen? All he wanted was some food. Now he was about to lose his life over a few pieces of chicken. Damn. Unable to eat any more, not that much was left, Max emptied the scraps into the trash bin. After washing the dishes and wiping down the counter, he turned to find Lattimore watching him.
“Man, what did you do to PJ? She came upstairs going off on me. What happened?”
“Apparently, I ate her food. You didn’t tell me she was saving the chicken for herself. If I had known, I never would have eaten it.”
“Oh shit! You ate her barbeque chicken? No wonder she’s pissed. She had been saving that. You really messed up, Max. You better sleep with one eye open for about a month. That chick holds grudges like nobody’s business.”
“Great. Well, I’d better be going. Thanks again for the food and sorry about the mix up.”
Sulking was the name of the game and Max did it well. He was distraught about upsetting PJ once again. It was never his intention to upset her, but it seemed like whenever he was near, he brought the angst and dumped it on her doorstep. He needed help but had no idea who to turn to. He couldn’t talk to Lattimore because PJ was his best friend. There was no way he could be objective. He had acquaintances, but no one with whom he would disclose his inner thoughts. Maybe he should see a therapist.
He opened his laptop and plugged-in relationship therapist in the search engine. Max clicked on one of the links but decided he was in the wrong place. How could he go to therapy and talk to a doctor about a woman who he wasn’t even in a relationship with? Frustrated, he was about to exit the search engine when he saw an ad for an advice column. Ask Ida was there to help, and he needed all the help he could get. Before he could talk himself out of it, he opened his email, created a second account under a pseudonym and typed up a message.
To: Ask Ida
From: Sunshine
