Hungry Dancer
A dancer in New York struggling with anorexia and uncontrollably lying. Talking with her mother at a lunching.
“Sweetie, why don’t you eat something? You are too skinny.”
My mom has been saying this since I was eight,
but what she doesn’t know is that food disgusts me.
I push some chicken around my plate,
“I need to lose weight for the next part.”
I’ve been lying to my mother since I was five.
“Oh, well I think it’s unhealthy.” I look heavenward
“Everyone has to do it, Mother, plus I’ve seen a doctor he says I’m as healthy as a horse.”
I haven’t been to an actual doctor in ten years. Mother tries another method.
“By the way what ever happen with that Steve Oldsman you were going out with?”
She was talking about a newspaper reporter that asked me out last month.
“We weren’t right for each other I guess,”
that was a lie because Steve was just straight up boring.
“Well that’s too bad” she faked sympathy. I knew Mother didn’t like Steve
that’s why I accepted the date, but there is just so much I could handle of him.
While Mother looks around for a waiter I slip more chicken in my napkin,
and stare out the window at the different people walking by.
She waves a clumsy looking waiter over, and
I look at his nametag that reads Max Wilson, how original.
“Uh yeah, can we pay the bill, please?”
“Yes ma’am, right away!” Max practically yells, and takes the gold credit card Mother hands him. He reminds me of a puppy ready to do whatever it takes to please you. I have to suppress a sudden urge to yell ‘Fetch’.
Max walks away mumbling something that I can’t make out.
An abrupt pain pierces my stomach, and
instead of thinking of the pain I think of getting the leading role in the next play.
Max brings back the bill and Mother signs it using curves and loops that I doubt anyone can read with her favorite purple pen that she brings everywhere.
“Uh, Mother, I need to head to practice,” practice wasn’t until tonight.
“Well, okay I guess I’ll talk to you later then,”
my mother is good with the motherly guilt trips.
“Uh, yeah.”
I look away to avoid getting sucked into her accusing eyes that say
‘I gave birth to you and this is how treat me’ or ‘why don’t you every want to spend time with me?’
I get up from the table and put my chicken filled napkin on the chair and pushed it in with nobody noticing. I kissed Mother on the head and left the restaurant.
On my way to my one bedroom, one bathroom apartment I pass store windows with colorful scarves, cute blouses, and some crazy, skinny jeans. I love city and the many styles, cultures, and people. It’s much better than the boring country.
I come upon my building a little too soon and took the stairs to the sixth floor.
When I open door 602 and flicked on the lights,
I am met with an empty apartment.
I feel the loneliness quietly set in.
“Sweetie, why don’t you eat something? You are too skinny.”
My mom has been saying this since I was eight,
but what she doesn’t know is that food disgusts me.
I push some chicken around my plate,
“I need to lose weight for the next part.”
I’ve been lying to my mother since I was five.
“Oh, well I think it’s unhealthy.” I look heavenward
“Everyone has to do it, Mother, plus I’ve seen a doctor he says I’m as healthy as a horse.”
I haven’t been to an actual doctor in ten years. Mother tries another method.
“By the way what ever happen with that Steve Oldsman you were going out with?”
She was talking about a newspaper reporter that asked me out last month.
“We weren’t right for each other I guess,”
that was a lie because Steve was just straight up boring.
“Well that’s too bad” she faked sympathy. I knew Mother didn’t like Steve
that’s why I accepted the date, but there is just so much I could handle of him.
While Mother looks around for a waiter I slip more chicken in my napkin,
and stare out the window at the different people walking by.
She waves a clumsy looking waiter over, and
I look at his nametag that reads Max Wilson, how original.
“Uh yeah, can we pay the bill, please?”
“Yes ma’am, right away!” Max practically yells, and takes the gold credit card Mother hands him. He reminds me of a puppy ready to do whatever it takes to please you. I have to suppress a sudden urge to yell ‘Fetch’.
Max walks away mumbling something that I can’t make out.
An abrupt pain pierces my stomach, and
instead of thinking of the pain I think of getting the leading role in the next play.
Max brings back the bill and Mother signs it using curves and loops that I doubt anyone can read with her favorite purple pen that she brings everywhere.
“Uh, Mother, I need to head to practice,” practice wasn’t until tonight.
“Well, okay I guess I’ll talk to you later then,”
my mother is good with the motherly guilt trips.
“Uh, yeah.”
I look away to avoid getting sucked into her accusing eyes that say
‘I gave birth to you and this is how treat me’ or ‘why don’t you every want to spend time with me?’
I get up from the table and put my chicken filled napkin on the chair and pushed it in with nobody noticing. I kissed Mother on the head and left the restaurant.
On my way to my one bedroom, one bathroom apartment I pass store windows with colorful scarves, cute blouses, and some crazy, skinny jeans. I love city and the many styles, cultures, and people. It’s much better than the boring country.
I come upon my building a little too soon and took the stairs to the sixth floor.
When I open door 602 and flicked on the lights,
I am met with an empty apartment.
I feel the loneliness quietly set in.