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{porn} anwar montasir My hand rested on the curve of her hip. She was sleeping maybe but I wasn’t tired so I kept talking. “Did I ever tell you about my job stocking shelves?” “Mmm,” she said. “A summer job, during college. One of those warehouse membership stores. I mention it only because a man worked there named Porn.” “Mmm.” “He was a cashier. Asian, I guess. His English wasn’t great, but he could count the money okay. And welcome customers, thank them for shopping today, point them to the right aisle for ten-gallon drums of mayonnaise or whatever. But I never asked where he came from. “Not that my friends and I didn’t talk shit about him. Nothing so clever, just mock dialogue: I went skydiving this weekend. Wow, that’s hardcore, Porn. Or maybe when he was a kid, his mother placed a classified ad for a sitter: Get paid to watch Porn. Stupid shit, you know? It doesn’t take much to keep your head in the gutter when you’re nineteen. “As I got older, if I thought of him at all, I’d test his name in simple phrases. Porn’s just trying to make a living, or Porn turned a year older today. Imagine ringing the man’s doorbell: I’m looking for Porn. Porn please. “I mean, what do people do every day? Porn drove to the gas station to buy cigarettes and beer. Although in that case I couldn’t help but hope he’d pick up a nudie mag on impulse. Not Playboy, one of the gross ones. Swank, or High Society. Would his ID entitle him to a discount? If so, would he feel ashamed to use it?” I looked at the wall. She keeps this alarm clock beside her bed with luminescent dials. I couldn’t see the time, just the reflected glow from the second hand as it swept its circle. A minute passed before I spoke again. “I used to swear I’d make myself important, that I’d never settle for a peripheral role in other people’s stories. Like this man Porn: it seemed he had no family, no desires, no existence beyond my field of vision. If not for his name, why remember him at all? “Of course, the reality is I’ve probably had a similar impact on most people I’ve met. After all, most of us can’t spend our lives being memorable. It’s exhausting.” I studied my hand, the one that wasn’t touching her body. My skin looked sickly blue in the light of the clock dials. “Maybe I should introduce myself as Porn at a few parties. If I can keep a straight face–” My voice trailed off as I realized she had spoken. “What’d you say?” “I said, do you always get this agitated when you think about Porn?” I swatted her backside, lightly, then turned towards the opposite wall. Though the more I thought about it, the less certain I became that I had understood her meaning. |
