The Melancholy Korean

“Don’t hang up, cupcake.”

“I’m hanging up, Nicky.”

“Wait a sec. Bill, say something.”

“Mell, it’s Bill. I’m patched in. I think you should listen to Nicky.”

(silence)

“Buttercup, I saw what happened on that Lolo blog.”

“Nicky, Christ. It’s called LoHud. Lower Hudson.”

“Whatever, sweetie. What’s a guy gotta read a computer to follow the Yankees, that’s what I want to know. But you said it was good stuff, so. Well, guess what I’m reading about 4:30 yesterday afternoon after the market’s closed?”

“I have no idea.”

“You too have an idea. ‘I have no idea.’ Now, I want you to stop this moping around stuff and tell me what happened.”

“I’m giving them up.”

“What did you say?”

“The Yankees. I don’t give a shit about them anymore. Fuck ‘em.”

(silence)

“Cupcake. I know you’re mad. Just tell me what happened.”

(silence)

(silence) 

“Paging doctor Big Shot.  Hello?  You there, Mr. Bill? Help me feel less like an asshole and say something, would you?”

“Mell, come on. Listen to Nicky. What happened?”

“I going to fucking kill ‘em.”

(silence)

“That’s a lot of gabbadol from someone who doesn’t even like Koreans.”

“Christ, Nicky. That’s not the fucking point.”

(silence) 

“And what the fuck does gabbadol mean anyway?  You Italian all of a sudden?"

"Cupcake, lay of the f word, ok?  I feel like I'm talking to my mother.”

“Nicky, give me fucking break. You cuss all the time.”

“Yeah, but I’m always trying to stop. Like with smoking. I’m trying to better myself, buttercup.  Every day, I’m trying to better myself. You two savages talk like a couple of gabbadol, and forget about the smoking. It’s a wonder Felicity...”

“Don’t.”

(silence)

“Sweetie, what happened?  Look, I’m asking in my nicest voice.”

“Nicky, Christ. You have no idea, ok? Can we just drop it?”

“You know what, cupcake? You’re right. What do I know? I’m just a dumb floor guy taking orders from big shots like you and Mr. I-Got-Nothing-To-Contribute-In-This-Situation over there. Hello? Is the line still working? Someone just die and no one told me?”

“Nicky, I’m still here. What can I say? You’re doing a great job.”

“Yeah, fuck you too. The both of youse.”

“Christ, Nicky. Some asshole made a comment about Koreans on the blog. I had to blast him back. What can I say? I told you before.  The Koreans are the Irish of Asia. A bunch of crazy drunks. Don’t fuck with us.”

“So, what happened?”

“My post got taken down. That’s all.”

(silence)

“Let me get this straight. Some asshole, excuse my Greek, cupcake, said something about Koreans. You got him back, they took down what you said back, and now no more Mariano Rivera, no more Wanger, no more Captain, no Babe, no Lou Gehrig and, no, God help me, no Joe Dimaggio, none of that? ‘Cause you got some guy back but they took it down.”

(silence)

“I just wanna be sure I know the score. That’s all, buttercup.”

“Christ, Nicky.”

“One thing before I go.”

“What?”

“My little sister wants her dress back. She said she hoped it fit real nice.”

(silence... then laughter)