Clean Baby Girl by Ryan W. Bradley
for Paula Bomer
“…The bottle is nearly thirty bucks. For two ounces. I think about all the shots of Jack Daniels I could be doing for thirty dollars…”
__________
Beth’s always complaining I don’t buy her things. We’ve been together for a year and a half, and me not buying her presents is what she complains about every day. So I go through the perfumes at Macy’s, Mervyn’s, and every other store in the mall. The bottle is nearly thirty bucks. For two ounces. I think about all the shots of Jack Daniels I could be doing for thirty dollars. The lap dances I could get when my boys and I go out after work. But I want to make Beth happy, so I buy the perfume.
But the perfume doesn’t make her happy. “What kind of crap is this?” she says. “Clean Baby Girl?”
“The saleswoman said a lot of women like it.”
“I’m sure that’s not all she said.” Beth likes to say things like that, implying I’m hooking up with girls on the side. But I haven’t, not once.
She turns and throws the bottle at me and I duck. The Clean Baby Girl smashes behind me, shards of the bottle sprinkle to the floor, the perfume trickles down the wall, shimmering from the light of the lamp on the dresser.
“What kind of sick person would give something a name like that?” Beth is yelling, and I imagine our neighbors listening in, dialing 911 when I open my mouth and shout over her, “Now there’s Clean Baby Girl all over the wall.” But I just listen to her scream.
“And what kind of sicko buys something with a name like that for his girlfriend? I bet you went right for that one. I bet you’ve got some issue with little girls.”
She keeps repeating how horrible the name of the perfume is, and the smell of it is filling the room, thick and nauseous. Like I had all those shots of Jack after all. The saleswoman said the name has to do with innocence, but that’s something Beth and I know nothing about. Not for a long time.
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Ryan W. Bradley has fronted a punk band, done construction in the Arctic Circle, and managed an independent children’s bookstore. His novel, Code for Failure will be published in 2012 by Black Coffee Press. He received his MFA from Pacific University and his fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in a myriad of publications including Gargoyle, Word Riot, Annalemma, Third Wednesday, and Emprise Review. He is the editor of Artistically Declined Press and lives in Southern Oregon with his wife and two sons. You can read his blog at www.ryanwbradley.blogspot.com
Read our interview with Ryan W. Bradley at the Metazen Blog.
© 2010, Metazen. All rights reserved.
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