Aftertaste Page #23

Season #1 Episode #1

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MELODY RAE:

I should have married you.

(retrieving the legal pad)

Since I felt like my marriage to Kyle took

such a one hundred and eighty-degree turn,

I also wrote down ‘Lover, Lover’ by Jerrod

Niemann, but then decided that one wasn’t

as suitable.

(yawns)

Maybe I’m too tired to think about it right

now. Do you know any of the words to that

song?

KAT:

(singing)

Whoa lover, lover, lover. You don't treat

me no good no more. Whoa lover, lover,

lover. You don't treat me no good no more.

Well, the truth, yeah it hurts to say,

I'm gonna pack up my bags. And I'm gonna

go away. I'm gonna split. I can't stand

it. I'm gonna give it up and quit. Ain't

never comin' back.

MELODY RAE:

Wow. . .just wow. How you can sound so

utterly breathtaking, singing in perfect

tune after drinking all night, is, unreal.

Seriously, I don’t get how you can do that.

You’re a prodigy. If I had your talent, I

tell ya, I wouldn’t be a dog groomer,

that’s for sure.

KAT:

Are you kidding me? That was terrible! My

Vocal cords are totally shot.

MELODY RAE:

(forming the letter “W”

using both hands)

W h a t e v e r. You are a vocal goddess,

Kat. Just accept it. Now, let’s get back

to Kyle. He was not only my last

relationship, but probably the last one

I’ll ever have in my lifetime. . .ever!

KAT:

Oh stop! That is so not going to be true.

You just haven’t met the right guy.

MELODY RAE:

Yeah, yeah, yeah. . .blah, blah, blah, I

guess. Time will tell.

KAT:

Okay, okay, fine! All right, you’re right.

Now let’s just get back to how Kyle

destroyed your ability to love.

MELODY RAE:

Stop it!

(referring to notepad)

I think it might be somewhat obvious that

after the nocturnal catfish, Kyle, I

could no longer smell the beach without

awful memories resurfacing. The salty

ocean breeze brings me right back to that

day the cruise ship docked in Ensenada

and I got the shock of a lifetime.

(CONTINUED)

(beat)

Moving on. . .before I fall asleep. Okay,

I can no longer taste Kraft ‘thick and

spicy’ barbecue sauce. Seriously! I don’t

remember a meal where Kyle didn’t add it.

Whenever he cooked, he used barbecue sauce,

no matter what he was grilling, year-round,

rain or shine. Seriously, he should’ve

slept with his barbecue grill. They were

way more compatible than we were.

KAT:

Do you think he used the sauce to mask the

smell of the joints he was secretly

smoking?

MELODY RAE:

Ugh. Just thinking about that barbecue

smell leaves me with a salty and. . .ahem

. . .fraudulent aftertaste.

KAT:

Ah, well said, Melody Rae.

MELODY RAE:

Kyle was a manipulative mental termite,

who daily ate away at my spirit, until

there was nothing left but crumbled

edges.

KAT:

Oh, that was dark. You’re not bitter.

MELODY RAE:

Bitterness aside, can we move on now?

I’m so ready to crash. I can barely find

the wherewithal to be civil.

KAT:

I hear ya. Yes, please continue. My

eyelids feel like five-pound bags of

sand.

MELODY RAE:

Mine, too.

(CONTINUED)

(snagging the birthday book)

Okay, the nocturnal catfish, Kyle, and

final guy to put behind me. Drum roll

please.

KAT weakly drum rolls on the edge of the coffee table.

MELODY RAE:

The title for our combination, the

twenty-fourth of October with the third

of December:
capturing hearts. Best at:

colleague. Weaknesses: competitive,

unconcerned, projecting.

KAT:

H-m-m-m, I would say unconcerned and

projecting, yes. But competitive?

MELODY RAE:

Well, maybe if he hadn’t been such a

pothead, he would’ve had more of a

competitive edge. Best at being colleagues

totally fits. You guys communicated like

business partners. You didn’t behave like

a couple in love. But you both did capture

one another’s hearts before you married,

even if you were both in an illusion with

one another, since you were both projecting

onto the other what you thought the other

wanted you to be.

MELODY RAE:

Touché.

KAT:

I must say, Melody Rae, I am proud of you.

You have managed to safely avoid any

long-term mental illness by revisiting

the mistakes you’ve made and divesting

yourself of your past failures by letting

go. All right, now I’m officially too tired

to analyze or even understand what I just

said, so I must go to bed. You can let

yourself out. But please lock the door on

the inside before you close it. . .or you

(CONTINUED)

can stay. You are certainly welcome to

crash on the couch.

MELODY RAE:

Oh, no, no, no, I need my own bed. But

thank you.

KAT:

You know, it’s interesting how none of the

men you’ve dated had the title, ‘best at

love or marriage.’ That means he’s still

out there.

MELODY RAE:

Wait!

(flipping through the birthday book)

KAT:

What?

MELODY RAE:

Ha-ha. I knew it! I should have been a

lesbian.

KAT:

Us?

MELODY RAE:

Makes sense why we’ve been friends for so

long.

KAT:

Sorry honey, I don’t swing that way.

MELODY RAE:

Ewe, me neither! I like men.

KAT:

So, after all the male anguish you’ve

endured, you’re not going to pursue a

life of celibacy?

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