The Cupcake Files (Pt. 1)

-- Specially commissioned --

I once had an apartment on Crossway
Past Dalton and Dane
Around the corner from Chaplin Pizza
A walkable distance from downtown
If you found yourself drunk
And minus a ride home

Not the best neighborhood to walk through
But home all the same

This is where I met Cupcake

When I moved into 175 Crossway
Cupcake had already lived there for a few months
With a Mexican guy named Chavo
And this tattoo artist named Spaz

There were still unpacked boxes everywhere
And the living room smelled like cold cuts

Cupcake met me at the front door
Wearing a backwards baseball cap
And low-rise jeans

He was dumb
Really dumb
I could smell it on him

It was intoxicating

I was bringing in my last box
He didn't offer to help
He just smirked at me

'You the new second floor?'
'Yeah.'
'You'll be on top of me then.'

He smiled

This was as much as he knew about flirting

I dropped the box

'Pick it up.'
'Excuse me?'
'Pick it up and bring it upstairs.'
'Uh...'
'I'm going to take a shower.'

I walked past him
Making sure not to look back

When I got out of the shower
The box had been placed neatly
In my bedroom

Cupcake was laying on my bed

'So do I get a thank you?'
'Are you asking me if we're going to fuck?'

He blushed

I could tell he'd never heard a girl
Use the 'f' word as an actual verb

'We, uh, could...hold each other?'

I laughed

'The condoms are in one of these boxes. Find them. I'm going to go watch tv.'
'I have one in my wallet.'
'If you think we're using your 7th grade free-class-handout condom that probably has a Ninja Turtle on it, then clearly you've only been fucking prom queens in sleeping bags on the beach. Welcome to a Classic, baby.'

I walked out of the room
Hearing his stunned silence
Splash onto the floor

Then I heard the boxes
Being rapidly unpacked