Bras, Cheese, and Stupid Little Boys by Elizabeth Sowden RERUN

In a small café tucked in a semi-basement away from the melee of Midtown at rush hour, where the air carried the scent of Turkish coffee and sweet-potato French fries, five women sat in a corner booth under a giant poster of Lucille Ball, sipping espressos and exchanging their most recent traumas.

“I stood in front of her cheese shop in Park Slope for an hour last night,” Allison moaned as she stirred her cappuccino, the foam dissolving into a murky pool of cream. The cheese shop belonged to the woman Allison’s husband left her for. Roxie and Graciela exchanged glances. Noëlle dipped a French fry into a cup of mayonnaise.

Finally, Kyoko said, “Again?” Allison nodded; eyes lowered and bottom lip pouting.

“Why would you stand out in the cold in front of a cheese shop when you could have been in Jackson Heights with me, workin’ it in the club? When was the last time you came to hear me sing?” Graciela asked.

“I know, I’m sorry…” Allison mumbled, her southern accent bleeding heavily though.

“Don’t make her feel worse,” Kyoko scolded.

“I’m not trying to make her feel worse,” Graciela countered, “tu tienes que disfrutar tu vida, you have to enjoy life! So what if that cabrón walked out on you? That doesn’t mean you have to roll over and die. Just come have a drink, get on the dance floor, and meet some new people!”

“I’m not ready to meet anyone,” Allison replied.

“You won’t meet anyone,” Roxie grumbled.

“Don’t start girl,” Graciela retorted, “you never even give any of those boys a chance.”

“Because boys are children and men are stupid little boys. Who needs them? Not me.”

“Me either,” Kyoko said, stifling a smile.

“You’re gay!” Noëlle laughed. “That’s not the same as being a cynic like Roxie.”

“I’m not a cynic. I’m a realist. What’s the point of having a boyfriend or getting married when you know one day he will come home smelling like Gouda with lipstick on his collar?”

“He didn’t come home smelling like Gouda,” Allison grumbled, “I found her bra under the bed.”

“What kind of bra?” Noëlle asked.

“La Perla! And he bought it for her! He never bought me anything from La Perla!”

“Well, don’t worry,” Kyoko said, patting Allison on the shoulder, “one day you’ll meet a pediatrician like your father who will buy you lacy teddies and jeweled La Perla bras…”

As it got later, they each paid for their drinks and left the café. Roxie and Graciela were the last to leave.

“Poor Allison,” Roxie said as they walked toward the subway.

“Yeah, it’s really too bad…but you know, Roxie, that doesn’t happen to everyone.”

“Whatever.” Roxie turned to down into the subway station, then turned around. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.

“No, I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Ok,” Roxie said, “See ya.”

When she was sure Roxie was out of earshot, Graciela took out her cell phone, dialed a number, and when a male voice answered, she said: “Javier? It’s Graciela. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Writen by: Elizabeth Sowden

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