I was in front of a tv in the mid 90s. So....let's declare it, 10 years old? Yeah 10.
It was, if not that show that had Nancy Glass, probably Inside Edition with Bill O'Rielly. Oh yeah, hardcore.
Maybe...yeah I was at my apartment. But there's a bunch of shit going on. My mom's talking and hanging out with everyone, everyone being her boyfriendy guy's brothers. There's beer for the Mexicans in the Raiders clothes (I didn't know they were a football team until I was in 7th grade I think), probably beer for the mom, and pot at her "oh so necessary andpulledoutofthedumpster writing desk" piled high with future archives of pre-destroyed lives.
Boyfriendy guy's brothers...maybe only one. Gang....homies? Dealers? Type of people. I don't know.
There was a fat brother of boyfriendy who once told her (assuming she didn't make this up) that he cut some chick up and then fucked (raped?) her. And every time she'd tell me about this she'd make a gutting a fish and then arm waving fucking motion. Like I had any idea what she was doing until I saw rap videos in high school. I got pissed me off at that guy not because he may have did that but because it gave depth to her already self-shallowed repetoire of being a disgusting bitch. Maybe he only cut her a little bit! Whatever, the motherly duty was done and I was warned to not only, go downstairs to their apartment and make a drunken gringa ass out of myself but also tell everyone who'll listen and tell everyone else that yes, Fat Guy definitely did kill someone. I'da been without a clue, otherwise. I bet he told her that (again, if he really did) in hopes that it would just shut her the fuck up. Ha haaaaaaa......aaaaaaah he was probably an asshole anyway.
and this particular night I'm focusing on the tv. Maybe that's why I can't do two things like that at once, watch tv while on the phone or IM or anything while on the phone, I'm self-trained to just...anyway.
Inside Edition being the trashy garbage I couldn't have avoided watching even had I known it as such at the time, there was a "segment" on cleavage. Oh oh ooooooh cleavage is all the rage in Hollywood *5 seconds of some movie star lady walking around, then some model on some runway*
I looked up at....fuck I don't remember Boyfriendy's name. It was a stupid name, for a stupid person. It might not have been a real name. I remember it was cutesy. Johnny, Roachy, something. Ah, Roachy it is.
I looked up at Roachy who was on a seat about...2 feet or so next to me (not on a couch with me, but in a different chair facing the tv) and asked him point-blank what cleavage was. Never heard the word before, no context I could get from the commercials.
"What's cleavage?"
Roachy wasn't very smart, at least that was the only reason at first that I thought he didn't answer me. He also wasn't wearing a shirt. Was it hot outside at 730pm? Idunno. Maybe it was, it was the second floor. He also worked out or so, I guess to the point where, hey at 730 or so pm in Anaheim, why not go shirtless?
So...setting his beer down (etiquette, you see) and with a concerned concentration on his face, Roachy puts his Mecksycan hands on the sides of his pectorals and uh...shoves his lumps. Together. aaaaand count to 3 quickly. Click. Un-shoves, doesn't even look at me, gets his beer back.
Let there be cleavage on the medium-dark hairless Mexican guy. Fiat cleavagus somethingus somethingus. Done and done.
My response, which I have carved into my brain forever lest I should ever forget such a life lesson.
"Oh. Okay." Head turns back to the
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY DAUGHTER?!?!?!"
"Uh...she asked what cleavage was."
Like, the most random of ten fucking seconds she saw what was going on with me, the mom I guess sees Roachy shovin his lumps and starts yelling about how he's molesting me right in front of her.
I....don't have an ending or conclusion. She just embarassed the hell out of both of us (it's not like he grabbed me), and because he was buzzed and I was too entrenched in the idea that causing a commotion was the gravest sin I could commit, neither of us said anything and of course after that I was uncomfortable around him. Oh shit, is he gonna define another word??! The horror.
