The Human Pincushion Day!
Another girl is gonna walk out on The Human Pincushion today. Right before she drops her keys on the kitchen counter and walks out, this one will say the same thing as the previous four.
"I'm really…Oh Jesus Christ I'm just so, so sorry."
They all say this, because towards the end of a relationship, The Human Pincushion diverts his attention from the impending doom by focusing all of his energy on his craft. In other words, he sits around all day sticking pins in himself.
Can't we address this?
Sideshow auditions are in May. I need to rehearse.
And then he sits in the middle of the Persian carpet on the living room floor and stabs himself with small metals. Every prick a distraction from the seething glare piercing the back of his head.
By the time they split, he's where he is right now. On the carpet, in a pair of white boxers, covered in needles from head to toe. When he looks up at the one who's gonna leave today, it'll be the first time in a month that he's looked her in the eye. And the pins sticking out of his temples and cheeks will bob just a bit with the movement of his head. The bobbing of the needles and the pathetic plea in his eyes is what's gonna make her say, "I'm really…Oh Jesus Christ I'm just so, so sorry."
Then she'll run out the door, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, trying to shake off the memory of that pitiful sight by slamming her weight down on every step.
Happy The Human Pincushion Day!