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Conversation Starters.
People don’t talk often enough about frostbitten toes.
Granted, the everyday-person doesn’t have a need to discuss this particular topic. The general public tends to stick to whatever is familiar and comfortable.
You know what isn’t comfortable? Frostbitten toes!
Jabari liked to use topics like this as a quick, rigorous test whenever interacting with new people. You can tell a lot about a person from the way in which they respond to an absurd conversation starter.
There were those that responded with disgust - at the topic itself or the questioner. Jabari appreciated the loyalty these people had to their closely held values and morals, but frankly, there was absolutely zero chance of a friendship developing. He’d long outgrown his childish desire to be liked and popular. He’d find his people one day, or they’d find him; if there was one thing in the universe he was certain of, it was this.
HIS people, Jabari reasoned, were those willing to take part in his absurd whimsy purely for the sake of debate. He didn’t have to win the argument, or anything! He just wanted people to play along! He’d happily admit defeat to a worthy, persuasive victor!
Sure, approaching unfamiliar distant family members with “Frostbitten toes… thoughts?” as a conversation starter at his Great Aunt’s 90th birthday party probably wasn’t the best idea. Five of his seven cousins were now going to great lengths to avoid him. (The sixth was estranged, and the seventh seemed intrigued - a further conversation prompt was needed.) Great Uncle Herbert had sworn at him, something about being a ‘disgrace?’ Jabari didn’t know. He’d stopped listening. His mother had just shaken her head and downed what remained of her glass of sweating red wine. In his defence, the non-existent ‘life’ of the party had keeled over and died about an hour ago. What was Jabari to do, bored out of his wits, and hoping that maybe a family member could be one of ‘his’ people?
Surely he only needed to last another hour. Then he could cash in his well-earned ‘Best Son Ever’ title to his parents - his mother, tipsy and singing far too loudly to Johnny Cash, and his father, silently stewing in his introverted anxiety - on his way out the door. His little sister owed him one. She’d managed to avoid this snooze-fest. Jabari had gone above and beyond, really. Not only had he volunteered to take this bullet, but he’d disgruntled the extended family so thoroughly that they would be singing Alira’s praises for any old feat. She could come to the next family gathering and flush the toilet, and the family would probably want to throw her a ceremony.
Ah. Lovely. Cousin Lucille was working the dance floor like she was getting paid. And, look, in another context, all power to her. She deserved to let loose from being the mum of an absolutely nightmarish toddler. However, this was NOT a club full of hormonal, horny young men. This was a family gathering. This was Great Aunt Myrtle’s 90th birthday. And there was Cousin Lucille, bumping and grinding her way into Jabari’s title of Most Disappointing Offspring. Great Uncle Herbert was shaking his head and muttering to himself. Aunt Jenny had paled and fled inside, covering the eyes of the Tiny Demon Lord himself - even though Jabari was willing to bet that the Devil Prince was the drive behind his mother’s almost aggressive twerking.
Dance moves aside, Lucille was a great mum. And that was not an easy feat, with Satan Incarnate as a waddling, devious son. Who knows? Maybe the aunties and grandmothers currently clucking disapprovingly in Lucille’s direction would also be undulating wildly on the dance floor if they had to babysit him for even a night, let alone two and a half years.
This would not stand.
Lucille had been the only cousin - nay - the only FAMILY MEMBER, who had nibbled at Jabari’s frostbitten-toes conversation starter slash fishing line. The two hadn’t talked much since they were kids, but hey, Jabari had highschool and university, and Lucille had highschool and motherhood. They’d been busy.
She started to notice the glares and head shakes. Her swaying hips began to slow. Lucille tentatively smoothed down the fabric of the white halterneck top that had rucked up her midsection. Jabari thought she looked like a small, frightened child at that moment.
Fuck that.
Jabari bounded to the dance floor with absolutely no plan in place. The only thing blaring through his mind and body was an urgent sense of ‘DON’T LET LUCILLE SUFFER ALONE! FUCK THE MATRIARCHY! [And the general Patriarchy, for that matter!]’
He entered his cousin’s embarrassed tableau with all the overstepped confidence of a first year theatre major.
Jabari was not graceful. He wasn’t even coordinated. He’d inhabited his body for twenty-three years, and still banged his elbows and ankles on doorways and chairs. But for Lucille, he took to the dance floor with a passion he wasn’t aware he possessed.
He crumped like there was no tomorrow. He water-sprinklered like it was his dying wish. He macarenaed like a mad man. He window-washed like it was his life’s passion!
After a few moments of heart-stopping silence from Lucille, Jabari heaved a sigh of relief as she smiled and joined his madness. She started by copying his dad-moves (Jabari’s father would be proud), before gaining the confidence to resume her club moves.
Jabari lawn-mowered his way to dance back to back with his new favourite cousin. Over their movements and the sound of the pounding music, he tried another polarising conversation starter,
“So… what’re the odds of cats taking over the world in the near future and keeping humans as pets?”
Lucille dropped to the floor at an alarming speed before rising back up with a smooth body roll. She laughed the entire way. Jabari smirked as she snorted.
“Oh 100 percent. There’s no way we survive the inevitable cat uprising with any shred of dignity.”
It was now Jabari’s turn to laugh at Lucille’s droll tone.
“I mean, they already treat us as servants. Have you ever watched one of them as you clean up their shit? Their stares say, ‘This is your job. This is exactly where you should be. You’re lucky to be cleaning my shit, you know that?’ And then they leave the room with a royal air and a sassy flick of the tail…”
Through chuckles, Jabari responded, “You sure seem to know a lot about cat psychology.”
Lucille grinned devilishly, “Oh, cats? I thought we’d started talking about toddlers.”
Jabari wheezed unhealthily and fell into a fit of giggles right there, in the middle of the dance floor.
“You’re -” he gasped, “You’re fucking hilarious! How did I not know this until now??”
His cousin just continued smirking and extended a hand down to Jabari’s prone form. He took her hand as she hoisted him back to a standing position.
“You’re one of my people, I hope you know that now,” he said, locking eyes with Lucille.
Her smile simply widened and warmed.
“That sounds good to me.”
© O.M.A
Note: I asked my little sister for a first-sentence writing prompt last year, and this was what she gave me... after about 6 months of sitting on my writing page with a measly paragraph following it, I finally got the inspiration to complete it the other day!
#shortstory #story #friendship #family #humour #funny #fiction #writco #writcoapp #funny
Granted, the everyday-person doesn’t have a need to discuss this particular topic. The general public tends to stick to whatever is familiar and comfortable.
You know what isn’t comfortable? Frostbitten toes!
Jabari liked to use topics like this as a quick, rigorous test whenever interacting with new people. You can tell a lot about a person from the way in which they respond to an absurd conversation starter.
There were those that responded with disgust - at the topic itself or the questioner. Jabari appreciated the loyalty these people had to their closely held values and morals, but frankly, there was absolutely zero chance of a friendship developing. He’d long outgrown his childish desire to be liked and popular. He’d find his people one day, or they’d find him; if there was one thing in the universe he was certain of, it was this.
HIS people, Jabari reasoned, were those willing to take part in his absurd whimsy purely for the sake of debate. He didn’t have to win the argument, or anything! He just wanted people to play along! He’d happily admit defeat to a worthy, persuasive victor!
Sure, approaching unfamiliar distant family members with “Frostbitten toes… thoughts?” as a conversation starter at his Great Aunt’s 90th birthday party probably wasn’t the best idea. Five of his seven cousins were now going to great lengths to avoid him. (The sixth was estranged, and the seventh seemed intrigued - a further conversation prompt was needed.) Great Uncle Herbert had sworn at him, something about being a ‘disgrace?’ Jabari didn’t know. He’d stopped listening. His mother had just shaken her head and downed what remained of her glass of sweating red wine. In his defence, the non-existent ‘life’ of the party had keeled over and died about an hour ago. What was Jabari to do, bored out of his wits, and hoping that maybe a family member could be one of ‘his’ people?
Surely he only needed to last another hour. Then he could cash in his well-earned ‘Best Son Ever’ title to his parents - his mother, tipsy and singing far too loudly to Johnny Cash, and his father, silently stewing in his introverted anxiety - on his way out the door. His little sister owed him one. She’d managed to avoid this snooze-fest. Jabari had gone above and beyond, really. Not only had he volunteered to take this bullet, but he’d disgruntled the extended family so thoroughly that they would be singing Alira’s praises for any old feat. She could come to the next family gathering and flush the toilet, and the family would probably want to throw her a ceremony.
Ah. Lovely. Cousin Lucille was working the dance floor like she was getting paid. And, look, in another context, all power to her. She deserved to let loose from being the mum of an absolutely nightmarish toddler. However, this was NOT a club full of hormonal, horny young men. This was a family gathering. This was Great Aunt Myrtle’s 90th birthday. And there was Cousin Lucille, bumping and grinding her way into Jabari’s title of Most Disappointing Offspring. Great Uncle Herbert was shaking his head and muttering to himself. Aunt Jenny had paled and fled inside, covering the eyes of the Tiny Demon Lord himself - even though Jabari was willing to bet that the Devil Prince was the drive behind his mother’s almost aggressive twerking.
Dance moves aside, Lucille was a great mum. And that was not an easy feat, with Satan Incarnate as a waddling, devious son. Who knows? Maybe the aunties and grandmothers currently clucking disapprovingly in Lucille’s direction would also be undulating wildly on the dance floor if they had to babysit him for even a night, let alone two and a half years.
This would not stand.
Lucille had been the only cousin - nay - the only FAMILY MEMBER, who had nibbled at Jabari’s frostbitten-toes conversation starter slash fishing line. The two hadn’t talked much since they were kids, but hey, Jabari had highschool and university, and Lucille had highschool and motherhood. They’d been busy.
She started to notice the glares and head shakes. Her swaying hips began to slow. Lucille tentatively smoothed down the fabric of the white halterneck top that had rucked up her midsection. Jabari thought she looked like a small, frightened child at that moment.
Fuck that.
Jabari bounded to the dance floor with absolutely no plan in place. The only thing blaring through his mind and body was an urgent sense of ‘DON’T LET LUCILLE SUFFER ALONE! FUCK THE MATRIARCHY! [And the general Patriarchy, for that matter!]’
He entered his cousin’s embarrassed tableau with all the overstepped confidence of a first year theatre major.
Jabari was not graceful. He wasn’t even coordinated. He’d inhabited his body for twenty-three years, and still banged his elbows and ankles on doorways and chairs. But for Lucille, he took to the dance floor with a passion he wasn’t aware he possessed.
He crumped like there was no tomorrow. He water-sprinklered like it was his dying wish. He macarenaed like a mad man. He window-washed like it was his life’s passion!
After a few moments of heart-stopping silence from Lucille, Jabari heaved a sigh of relief as she smiled and joined his madness. She started by copying his dad-moves (Jabari’s father would be proud), before gaining the confidence to resume her club moves.
Jabari lawn-mowered his way to dance back to back with his new favourite cousin. Over their movements and the sound of the pounding music, he tried another polarising conversation starter,
“So… what’re the odds of cats taking over the world in the near future and keeping humans as pets?”
Lucille dropped to the floor at an alarming speed before rising back up with a smooth body roll. She laughed the entire way. Jabari smirked as she snorted.
“Oh 100 percent. There’s no way we survive the inevitable cat uprising with any shred of dignity.”
It was now Jabari’s turn to laugh at Lucille’s droll tone.
“I mean, they already treat us as servants. Have you ever watched one of them as you clean up their shit? Their stares say, ‘This is your job. This is exactly where you should be. You’re lucky to be cleaning my shit, you know that?’ And then they leave the room with a royal air and a sassy flick of the tail…”
Through chuckles, Jabari responded, “You sure seem to know a lot about cat psychology.”
Lucille grinned devilishly, “Oh, cats? I thought we’d started talking about toddlers.”
Jabari wheezed unhealthily and fell into a fit of giggles right there, in the middle of the dance floor.
“You’re -” he gasped, “You’re fucking hilarious! How did I not know this until now??”
His cousin just continued smirking and extended a hand down to Jabari’s prone form. He took her hand as she hoisted him back to a standing position.
“You’re one of my people, I hope you know that now,” he said, locking eyes with Lucille.
Her smile simply widened and warmed.
“That sounds good to me.”
© O.M.A
Note: I asked my little sister for a first-sentence writing prompt last year, and this was what she gave me... after about 6 months of sitting on my writing page with a measly paragraph following it, I finally got the inspiration to complete it the other day!
#shortstory #story #friendship #family #humour #funny #fiction #writco #writcoapp #funny
