Passion and Ponies

  “Um, nothing in common would be an understatement. The guy asked our waitress for crayons during dessert and then ate the blue ones because he said they taste like purple. I had to keep all of the napkins away from him because he tried to eat those, too, and when the bill came he asked if he could pay for it with red Skittles. It was like eating lunch with a toddler.”

  Gavin raises his eyebrow at me. “So, you’re saying he was really immature? Wow, that doesn’t sound anything like you.”

  I punch him in the arm and scowl at him. “I will have you know, I’m a fun, enthusiastic immature. This guy was just fucking weird.”

  “Did you talk to your mom about it?” Gavin asks.

  I don’t even want to think about my mom right now. When I went to the house to pack a bag and tell her I needed some time away to get my thoughts in order, she gave me a book on Kama Sutra and told me some new sex moves might cheer me up. I tested out the Inverted Cow and the Splitting Bamboo in the kitchen earlier and, while those did perk me up a little bit, The Deckchair and the Lustful Leg totally fucked up my thigh and now I have a pulled muscle. All I wanted from her was an explanation as to why she never told me the truth. All of those fucking sex ed homeschooling classes she made me sit through and she never once thought it would be a great idea to tell me she picked up some strange spunk at a drive-thru window?

  “I’m done talking to my mom. Her answer to everything is sex,” I complain.

  “Um, your answer to everything is sex,” Gavin reminds me.

  “Well, yeah, but it’s just gross when it’s my mom suggesting it.”

  Gavin leans back into the cushions and we both kick our legs up on the coffee table. “Did you ever think that maybe the sperm bank made a mistake? I mean, I don’t want to get your hopes up or anything, but I’m sure that sort of thing happens from time to time. Maybe they just pulled the wrong record or something.”

  That very thought crossed my mind right about the time Dean O’Saur started eating butter packets with a knife and fork without removing the foil wrapper.

  “What if I find out that the sperm she used isn’t even what got her pregnant? My mom told me herself she was kind of a slut and had a foursome the same week she went to the sperm back. God only knows who my father could be. Jesus God, what if it’s someone worse than Dean O’Saur?”

  Gavin laughs. “I don’t think there is anyone worse than Dean O’Saur, unless he has a brother named Terry Dactyl.”

  “Actually, that’s not a bad name. That would make me Tyler Dactyl. That’s kind of bad ass,” I consider.

  “It doesn’t have to be someone worse, you know. What if it’s someone totally awesome? A rich, Hollywood actor or something. You could be a millionaire and not even know it.”

  The more I think about this, the more excited I get. “Oh, my God, what if my dad is Peter New?”

  Gavin stares at me in confusion.

  “Um, hello? Peter New? The voice actor for Big Macintosh on My Little Pony? God, it’s like you live in a cave or something,” I complain.

  “I was thinking more along the lines of Brad Pitt or Robert Downey, Jr.”

  Now it’s my turn to look at him like he’s crazy. “Who?”

  Gavin shakes his head at me and I ignore him. This idea has already taken root inside my brain and it totally makes sense. I mean, Peter New is from Canada, which is like right by Ohio. I think. I could see him hanging out on college campuses and hooking up with my mom. I mean, I can’t actually see that part or else I’d have to pour bleach in my eyes, but it has to be true.

  “Even if it’s not Peter New, it could definitely be Trevor Devall,” I think aloud. “I mean, he’s an older dude but my mom wouldn’t care about that. She’s an equal opportunity banger.”

  When Gavin doesn’t reply, I turn my head to see he still has a blank look on his face.

  “God, you are so out of the loop it’s scary. Trevor Devall is the voice of Hoity Toity. Not one of my favorites, but still a great character in his own right. He always makes good choices, he’s an Earth Pony and a major representative of the fashion world. Which would totally explain my attraction to Ava.”

  “Alright, slow your roll there, Pinkie Pie,” Gavin interrupts. “I’m pretty sure your dad isn’t going to be someone who does voices for My Little Pony.”

  “For your information, Pinkie Pie is a chick. It’s not biologically possible for a chick to be my dad, nice try. And hello? You thought my dad could be Robert Pitt or Brad Downey, Jr. or whatever,” I fire back.”

  “That’s not…you know what? You’re right,” Gavin says, throwing his hands up in the in defeat. “Your dad could technically be anyone and you won’t know for sure unless you contact the sperm back.”

  “I already contacted them.”

  “HOLY SHIT!” Gavin and I shout in surprise at the same time as we turn to see Molly standing at the end of the couch staring down at her cell phone.

  “Where the fuck did you come from? How long have you been here?” I demand.

  She just shrugs without taking her eyes off of her phone. “I’ve been here all night.”

  “Uh, all night?”

  Molly finally looks up with a blank expression on her face. I swear to God she’s a fucking robot or cyborg or some shit.

  “Yes, all night. I was here for the wood chipper incident and listened to you cry about a My Little Pony butt plug. You know I’m only nineteen, right? I’m in the prime of my youth and you just scarred me for life.”

  Gavin turns away from Molly to look at me. “Wood chipper?”

  I shake my head at him. “That’s for another time, my friend.”

  Looking back at Molly, I get back to the important matter at hand. “You said you contacted them. Who did you contact?”

  She rolls her eyes at me and if I wasn’t afraid that she’s a secret agent with the CIA and probably knows a hundred different ways to decapitate a man, I’d probably get lippy with her.

  “I emailed the sperm back while you two Nancys were learning a new Friendship is Magic secret handshake,” she deadpans.

  “There’s a secret handshake?” Gavin asks.

  “NO! Ponies don’t have hands! And the MLP’s wouldn’t reduce themselves to such trivial group activities,” I inform them with disgust.

  “Anyway,” Molly continues. “They emailed me right back and apologized for the mix-up. Turns out you were right. Dean O’Saur isn’t your real dad. They’ve been converting all of their old paper files to a new system and got your mom’s information switched with someone else’s. You have a meeting with them tomorrow at noon.”

  And with that, Molly shoves her phone in her back pocket and heads out the front door.

  “Well, the good news is, you don’t have to worry about sharing a meal of Crayolas at Dean’s house for the holidays. The bad news is, when I marry Charlotte, I’ll be related to Molly and I’ll always have to sleep with one eye open,” Gavin says with a sigh.

  Looks like it’s back to the drawing board for me. Fingers crossed that the sperm bank gets it right this time. Otherwise, I’m heading to BronyCon and finding my dad on my own.

  “No, no, no, you’re doing it wrong. The Santa heads have to have blue eyes. Oh, my God, just let me do it.”

  Aunt Jenny, Charlotte, my mom and I all put down our knives and slowly back away from the table as Aunt Claire curses and scowls at us.

  She invites us over every year to help her decorate the cookies for Christmas day, and every year she bitches at us for doing it wrong.

  “For the love of God, slutbag, it doesn’t matter if Santa has blue eyes or green eyes,” my mom complains.

  We all watch as Aunt Claire stalks towards her, waving a butter knife dripping with red frosting that looks a hell of a lot like blood.

  “I don’t tell you how to diddle yourself with vibrators, you don’t tell me how to decorate my cookies, fuck face!”

  Before this gets out of hand and frosting starts flying around the kitchen, Charlotte
and I separate the two of them. Aunt Claire goes back to making her cookies perfect while my mom makes everyone some coffee.

  For right now, the two of us have called a truce. I’m not ready to move back home yet and she’s not ready to accept the fact that I don’t want to spend my days filing order forms for Pocket Pussies, but at least she’s stopped making snarky comments about my blog for the moment.

  “So, any news on when my son is going to propose?” Aunt Claire asks nonchalantly.

  I watch as Charlotte’s face reddens in embarrassment and I can’t help but be a little happy that she’s in the hot seat for once instead of me.

  “Um, I don’t…uh, oh, my God,” Charlotte stammers, looking at me with wide eyes and a look on her face that clearly says “Help me the fuck out”.

  I just shrug and smile at her. I’d like to know the answer to this question, as well. The two of them are already acting like they’re married; they might as well make it official.

  “I bet he’ll do it on Christmas in front of everyone,” I offer.

  Charlotte shoots me a dirty look and I can’t help but laugh. We’ve talked plenty of times over the years about the perfect proposal and Charlotte hates the idea of it going down on a holiday in front of a bunch of people. Especially people as insane as our family.

  “Oh, thank God. If your Aunt Claire doesn’t get to wear that blue dress she bought for the wedding soon, her ass is going to outgrow it,” mom says as she pours herself a cup of coffee.

  “Well, at least my tits won’t be falling out of my dress like a cheap hooker,” Aunt Claire adds, not looking up from her frosting work.

  “Hey, I am a high priced hooker, get it right,” mom fires back.

  “I love you, bitch,” Aunt Claire says with a smile.

  Mom puts her hand over her heart. “Right back at you, skank.”

  Right then, Aunt Jenny burst into tears.

  “What the hell, Jenny? You know we love you too,” mom says in confusion, walking up behind her and patting her on the back.

  Charlotte grabs a few tissues from the box on the counter and holds them out for Aunt Jenny to take. She blows her nose and takes a few minutes to calm down before she speaks.

  “I think Drew is cheating on me,” she tells us with a sniffle.

  “I will cut off his dick and shove it down his throat,” my mom states angrily.

  Aunt Claire puts her frosting knife down and holds up her hands. “Wait just a minute. Why in the hell would you think Drew is cheating on you?”

  “When we had sex the other night, he said he was too tired to use the nipple clamps and chip dip,” Aunt Jenny complains, starting to cry again.

  “Oh, gross. You two are almost fifty. Is there ever going to come a time when you have sex like normal people?” mom complains.

  Ignoring her, Aunt Claire continues with her questions. “So, aside from that, is there anything else? I mean, maybe he really was just tired.”

  Aunt Jenny dabs at her eyes with a tissue. “He’s been gone a lot lately and he keeps telling me he has meetings, but I think he’s lying. Three times in the last week, I’ve found glitter on his clothes.”

  “He’s probably just going to a strip club or something,” Charlotte tells her with a shrug.

  Aunt Jenny shakes her head. “No, it’s definitely not stripper glitter. This glitter was thick and dark. Stripper glitter is fine and antidepressant.”

  “Well, I’ve always wondered if stripper glitter had anxiety issues,” my mom mutters.

  “Do you mean iridescent?” Charlotte asks Aunt Jenny softly.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore,” Aunt Jenny sighs. “Just forget about it. I’m going to sit Drew down and make him tell me what’s going on. I swear to God if he’s having sex with another woman and didn’t ask me to join, beds are gonna roll.”

  Mom groans. “HEADS are gonna roll, Jenny, HEADS.”

  “Okay, change of subject,” Aunt Claire announces, turning to look at Charlotte. “I’m going to make a ‘Congratulations on your Engagement’ cake for you and Gavin to serve at Christmas dinner, so let me know what flavor you want. Oh, and your mom and I already picked out the invitations for the engagement party and I’ve got some great new cookie cutters of diamond rings we can use for favors-”

  “Ava is falling for Tyler!” Charlotte suddenly shouts, cutting off Aunt Claire.

  “What the fuck, Charlotte?” I yell back.

  I get that she’s freaking out about the prospect of getting engaged and everyone planning everything before it’s even happened, but Jesus, she didn’t need to throw me under the damn bus! Falling for Tyler…as if!

  “Well, as luck would have it, we just got a new line of My Little Pony sex toys in at the shop,” mom says with a sigh. “You’ll never run out of gifts to celebrate your love. I’m particularly fond of the My Little Pony Fleshlight. They come in pretty colors.”

  Aunt Jenny finally perks up after her little meltdown. “I bought Drew one of those already! I also got him the Lyra Plushie and he can stick his penis in her ass. She’s so cute. But word to the wide, make sure Tyler doesn’t finish in her. Whatever she’s made out of is a bitch to clean.”

  We all groan in disgust.

  “I am not falling for Tyler and I will not be supporting his freaky My Little Pony habit by purchasing anything from that line of toys, thank you very much,” I inform them.

  Just because he has fabulous abs and a perfect dick, he’s easy to talk to and occasionally says really nice things to me doesn’t mean I’m falling in love with him. That’s just stupid.

  “Did you hear about what happened with the whole sperm bank mix up?” Charlotte asks.

  Everyone nods and mutters words of compassion for Tyler while I stand there in confusion for several minutes until Charlotte notices.

  “He didn’t tell you? Dude, the sperm bank fucked up their records and gave him the wrong name. Now they can’t figure out where his mom’s records are so he has no idea who his dad is all over again. He’s been really down about it,” Charlotte explains.

  What? Why didn’t he tell me this?

  I’ve been so busy worrying about my own problems that it didn’t even occur to me to ask Tyler about his. I suck.

  Wait, what? No, I don’t suck. Who cares about his problems? He’s a booty call, nothing more.

  But shit, he must feel awful. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to not know who my dad is. I don’t like all of these conflicting feelings that are going on inside of me right now. All of a sudden I feel like doing something nice for him. I don’t do nice. What the hell is wrong with me?

  Shit, there is no way I’m falling for Tyler Branson.

  “We need to talk.”

  I quickly remove my hand from the My Little Pony butt plug I may or may not have been petting and turn around to face Ava.

  “Does that sex toy have a pink horse tail on it?” she questions, tilting her head to the side to look around me.

  “I wasn’t touching it!”

  She rights her head and raises her eyebrow.

  “Ok, fine. I was touching it, but it’s so soft and silky,” I admit.

  Ava shakes her head like she’s trying to clear all thoughts of me playing with a butt plug with an attached tail.

  “Anyway, I think we should talk,” she tries again.

  I don’t like how serious she looks. Ava and I don’t do serious. We do sex and we snap at each other and we do both quite well. This can only mean one thing – she doesn’t want us doing the sex anymore.

  Fuck.

  “Can we go somewhere else? I feel dirty standing in an aisle of My Little Pony sex toys. Holy shit, does that vibrator have a My Little Pony head on it?” she asks in awe, stepping around me and reaching for the yellow and pink vibrator in the box next to the MLP Fleshlights.

  “That’s Pulsating Posey. On the show she’s known for her garden of flowers. At Seduction and Snacks, she’s known for titillating the petals of t
he flower between your legs,” I explain.

  She quickly tosses Pulsating Posey back into the box, turning back around to face me. If I’m not mistaken, I think PP might have turned Ava on just a little bit. If this chick suddenly develops a fondness for all things MLP, I’m going to have a hard time walking away from her.

  “So, you want to talk, huh?” I ask her with a sigh. “Come on, let’s go into my office.”

  I turn and walk down the aisle like a man going to the electric chair. I guess I should have known this was coming. Someone as beautiful and confident as Ava doesn’t hang around a guy like me for that long. Sure, I have a better job and I’m not living in my parent’s basement anymore, but I’m not exactly at the top of the “Great Catch” list either.

  In the front corner of the warehouse, they’ve set up a small room for me to use as an office. It used to be a storage room and it doesn’t have any windows, but it has a desk, a filing cabinet, a door that locks and a computer so I can watch porn in peace during my lunch hour. When we get inside, I close the door behind Ava and wait for her to drop the ax and bring an end to our magical time together of fucking like rabbits.

  Ava perches her hip on the edge of my desk and I lean against the closed door with my arms crossed in front of me. I’ve had plenty of fantasies about screwing her on top of that desk and I’m a little sad that I won’t get to fulfill them. Unless, of course, she’s down with one last go for old time’s sake.

  “We’ve been spending a lot of time together and I realized that all we do is have sex,” Ava starts, wringing her hands in her lap and cracking her knuckles nervously. “It’s nice and all, but I thought we should talk. You know, try something new.”

  I can’t stop the laugh that bursts out of my mouth. “Talk? You actually want to act like a nice human being?”

  She winces, quickly looking back down at her hands and I immediately want to take my words back. I know we constantly bicker back and forth and can lob insults at each other with the best of them, but I can tell something is different with her this time. Here I was lamenting the fact that I’d never get to have sex with her again while she wanted to do something normal like talk and I go and fuck it up with my mouth.