Schuttelfrost
by Kevin O’Cuinn

You want an omelette? I thought you had diarrhea?

I’m feeling much better.

You don’t look it.

I’m surprised you even noticed.

What does that mean? That was me who brought you Aspirin, remember? And the soup.

The place is a mess.

The place is not a mess, even if I’m still cleaning two days after your birthday party, while you’ve been ill in bed. And I have a job, remember?

I had schuttelfrost.

It’s called fever where I come from.

I need to vacuum.

I can do it.

You always miss the corners.

Like I said, I can do it.

It’s okay, I’d like to do it.

As you wish, but you should be in bed.

Can you take out the garbage?

Sure.

I mean, can you take out the garbage now?

I’ll do it when I’m ready.

Then don’t bother. I’ll do it myself.

I said I’ll do it!

I don’t want another situation.

Then get the fuck off my back! Is this about the garbage, or just garbage?

I saw you finishing off the leftover glasses of wine. You sicken me. I never want to see you do that again.

It was my glass, damn it!

You were drinking red all night. You finished Moni’s white, as well as Albert’s beer. I saw you from the balcony. You’re sick, you need help.

Don’t be such a fucking drama queen.

And you promised not to drink hard stuff again.

I had one shot for crying out loud! And it was a toast to your birthday!

I saw you have two, which means you had at least four. You’re getting sloppy with age. Ten years ago nobody would have seen you, and nobody would ever have guessed you have a problem.

We’ve been down this road before. I don’t have a problem.

I’m not discussing this with you anymore. You were so impolite to Karl.

He’s an asshole, that’s why.

Even if he is, that’s no reason to insult him on my birthday. A host should remain sovereign.

And a guest should leave his shit at home. Who does he think he is, pontificating from my kitchen table?

Like you know any better.

Is that what this is about, etiquette?

No, it’s about you having a drinking problem and pretending you don’t.

You’re nuts. I’m not faking anything. You just smile and nod your head at him.

So you’re jealous of Karl.

Huh?

Everyone can see it. You embarrass me in front of my friends.

I am not jealous, and who does he think he is? And you all sit there and hang onto his every word, ‘Your accent’s so cute Karl.’

Jessica said that, not me.

It may as well have been you, you had it written all over your face. ‘Really Karl? The German word is ‘schuttelfrost?’ And he was full of drugs and drunk like fuck. I don’t hear you complaining about him.

He’s not an alcoholic, he’s not my husband.

So I’m an impolite jealous alcoholic.

Yes ... who won’t take care of the garbage. Will you make me an omelette now or do I have to do it myself?

Okay, okay. But go back to bed, I’ll bring it up when it’s ready.

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Kev's Irish, but lives with The Fairies in Pixelland. He doesn't mix his drinks.

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