Just Us Avery Women

After leaving Ray to do his own thing, Martin is feeling like having a drink himself, but he showers first. What little work he did over the course of the day has left him feeling dirty, although it’s more likely that it just compounded whatever grime he had left on him after lounging around drinking for a few days prior.

When he’s finally clean and ready to relax, he grabs one of his alcoholic beers from the fridge and retires to his room. He sits down at his computer with the intention of brainstorming ways to make money and possibly help out Hilda with her new car troubles, but he ends up chuckling to himself and recounting the day’s various oddities in joke form so he’ll have material for his next show. Those little bastards in the audience are always demanding more from him. Sigh.

Occasionally the thought of monetary problems pops up again, so he takes a few more swigs of his beer to distract himself. There’s no time to worry about debt when you’re in a humorous mood.

Then a message pops up from his sister (her horrifying screen name being classyass101):

classyass101: are you sober?
funnymartin: what? no
classyass101: come on, marty
classyass101: how can i catch you when you’re sober?
classyass101: do you have some sort of schedule?
funnymartin: I”M THE FUNNY ONE
classyass101: right.
classyass101: are you doing anything tomorrow?
funnymartin: probably getting my shit stolen by this gargantuan black fucker and his mexican life partner
classyass101: um…i'm not really sure if you’re being serious or not
classyass101: that scares me
funnymartin: nope,no jokes here, sissy
funnymartin: we might as well do something if thats what you want
classyass101: i was just thinking breakfast or lunch or something
classyass101: i'll even buy
funnymartin: OH MYG OD
classyass101: excuse me?
funnymartin: hey so…can i have like 10000 dollars (i think i got the zeros right)
classyass101: jesus, for what?
funnymartin: i have a pretty nasty coke habit
funnymartin: and midget hookers are more expensive than you might think
funnymartin: i always figured you’d pay LESS to have sex with a smaller person, but they’re more of a collector’s item or soemthing
classyass101: why don’t we talk about this over breakfast, then?
funnymartin: hookers?
classyass101: martin!
funnymartin: micheellllllle!
classyass101: christ, i'm just going to call you in the morning, so pick up
funnymartin: MICHEELLLLLLLLEEEEEEEE!!!!

Clearly, Martin is excited when he remembers that his sister is a well-to-do businesswoman who spends her days in the financial district making waves and, more importantly, a healthy sum of money. Martin’s always avoided borrowing money from her simply so he doesn’t have to talk to her very much, but he has no doubt that she’d be good for $10,000.

In the morning, he is startled and manages to move when his phone begins vibrating loudly on his nightstand. 7:30 seems unimaginably early to him, but he’s also aware that it might just be the hangover talking. Ugh. It’s hard to think about eating eggs when your stomach seems rattled by the previous night’s romp through Beertown. The thought of bacon makes him feel slightly better, but knowing his sister, she’ll probably want to hit up some vegan café for a meal that only vaguely resembles breakfast. Fuuuuuck. Martin blames Ray for all of this.

Michelle wants to meet Martin for breakfast at 8:30, so he strolls in at a gentleman’s 9:13. As expected, Michelle is waiting patiently and has not yet ordered anything. So predictable.

“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t pick one of your shitty breakfast spots,” says Martin as he takes a seat and signals for coffee.

“Well, I figured you wouldn’t be in the greatest shape this morning. I’d rather not get puked on if I can help it. Some of us actually have to work for the rest of the day.” Despite the bitchy ‘tude rising up at the end there, Michelle was seemingly too accommodating for Martin’s liking. Then he realized what was going on.

“Oh no. God no. Did you go out on a date last night?” Martin could not believe exactly how predictable she was. This is how it always went with Michelle.

“Look, I just don’t get why I didn’t even get a goodnight kiss. If a guy doesn’t kiss you goodnight, what are you supposed to think?”

“I’m supposed to think he respects my boundaries as a stalwart heterosexual, I guess.”

“No, but c’mon. I was interested in what he had to say, I tried not to go on too long about myself, but he just seemed put off by the end of the night. This always happens. How would you get a guy interested?” She always reeked of desperation when she appealed to Martin for help, but she continued to ask in the most unsettling way.

“Why must you always do this? You can't drag me out of bed and into town in the morning and expect me to answer questions from a girl’s perspective. I’m a guy; that’s all I know. If you want to ask a question, you’d ask what would make me interested in a girl. I know it’s a subtle difference, but the way you ask me shit freaks me out.”

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“What would a girl have to do to get your attention?”

“Not dress like a librarian and hint at a possible desire to have sex. This is what’s so appealing about prostitutes. They go above and beyond the call of duty on both of those criteria.”

“You’re disgusting, you know.”

“Yes, I’m very well aware, but it’s hard for me to care when there is impending bacon.” Martin really was excited for the bacon. “Seriously, what did you wear? Something you’d wear to work? ‘Cause that just won’t cut it.”

“I dressed…appropriately.”

“Boooo-rriiiiiiing. No guy wants appropriate. You should really consider dressing like you’d take money for sex.”

“This isn’t very helpful.”

“You say that now, but think about it: has dressing ‘appropriately’ ever gotten you laid, NOT counting anyone else who’s in the finance industry? You guys are all so repressed."

“Not to mention we never have to ask our siblings for large sums of money.”

“Oh right, I’m glad you reminded me. I need that before the end of the day.”

“What the hell did you DO? Ten thousand dollars? I hope the midgets were pretty.”

Martin chuckles. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about hookers.”

“You kind of forced my hand on that one.”

“Well…eight thousand dollars to get me and my roommate out of a jam, then two thousand to help out a friend. See, I thought Ray was going to pay off the loan alright, but apparently he never got around to it. I can make the money off a few shows.”

“Then what about the other two thousand?”

Sigh. “I’d actually rather not talk about it. I feel like enough of a dick as it is.”

“Hey, if it’s to help out someone you’ve wronged, I’d say it’s part of my civic duty as your sister to heal their wounds with my money."

“That’s a pretty retarded sense of self-righteousness, not to mention a gross underestimation of my ability to be a decent human being.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Fine. I can put the money in your account tomorrow.” Martin nearly spits out his coffee.

“Ah, well I was hoping we could go to the bank after this.”

“What? I need to get to work, Martin.”

“Yeah, well I wasn’t joking about the black Hulk and the Mexican, so have a little mercy.”

“I see. It’s all coming together now.”

“Yeah, the-“

“You’re gay, aren’t you?”

“WHAT?”

“Black Hulk? These guys are your midgets, huh?”

“Fuck off, Michelle. See if I ever help you with your guy problems again.”

“You haven’t even helped me now!”

“But you’re still paying for breakfast, right?”

“I’m taking it out of the ten thousand.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”