“Did you hear,” Jones asks, “That Calvin’s van just appeared back in his driveway last night?”
     “Really?”
     “Yeah, man,” Jones says as he swallows the remaining rice crispies he had wallowing in his mouth. “With everything in it. All of the instruments, everything. He even had a few dollars in a cup in the front, and it was untouched.”
     Doug throws away the teabag that was soaking in his mug of hot water and grabs a package of vegan tea cookies.
     “So what do you think happened? Someone just go on a joyride and return it in the middle of the night?”
     “No clue, but he said that whoever took it actually filled up the tank before returning it.”
     “That’s so weird, man,” Doug says, taking a bite of a cookie. He rests his feet on the old locked chest and turns on the television, to a channel showing nonstop cartoons, a genre of which Doug feels is the highest of artful quality.
     “You working today?” Jones asks.
     “Nah.”
     “You wanna walk around the city a bit?”
     “Uh, I would,” Doug says, “But I’m going to this gallery downtown to see that Norah girl’s paintings.”
     “So, you mean you’re going downtown to see that Norah girl?”
     Doug smiles. “Yeah. Sure.”
     Jones drinks the remaining milk out of his bowl. “Do you know whether Calvin or Arielle are working?”
     “Um, I think Calvin is working. Yeah, Calvin’s working. No clue about Arielle, though,” Doug says while dipping one of the vegan cookies in his tea.
     “Alright, I’ll call her up,” he says after clearing his bowl of milk. “Wait- ew, dude. You dip those in your tea?”
     “They’re tea cookies!”
     “That means you’re supposed to eat them with tea, not soak them in it.”
     “Whatever, dude. It all goes to the same place.”
     “Thanksgiving dinner all goes to the same place, too. That doesn’t mean I want to stuff my turkey with pumpkin pie.”
     “But you do want to stuff your turkey with stuffing?”
     “That’s why it’s called stuffing!”
     “And that’s why they’re called tea cookies.”
     “Alright,” Jones says sarcastically.
     “That’s all I’m saying, man. All I’m saying.”
     Jones calls Arielle, and finds that she isn’t working and is, in actuality, at home. He makes plans with her and leaves only minutes before Doug.
     “Later, buddy! I’ll see you tonight,” Jones yells to Doug, as he brushes his teeth.
     “Later,” Doug mumbles loudly through his toothpaste filled mouth, nearly swallowing some.
     Doug wanders around the downtown area trying to find the art gallery that he’d only been to once before. Eventually, he does find it and as he walks in, he is bombarded with thousands of different visual orgasms coming from all directions. For a few minutes, he peruses around the gallery, until he finds the spot Norah has taken.
     “Hey there,” Doug says as he approaches her.
     “Oh, hey! How are you, Doug?”
     Norah is wearing a red vest with a white v-neck on beneath it. She is, also, wearing a black skirt, that ends approximately at her knees. Doug thinks she looks absolutely striking.
     “I’m doing good, you?”
     “Great, great.”
     They just ogle each other for a few moments.
     “So, um, how did you guys do at Battle of the Bands? I couldn’t make it out last night, I had work.”
     “Actually, there’s a pretty long story to that.” Doug explains the rest of the story in detail to her, which I will leave out for your pleasure. “… And we won! We got first place, after all that. It was wonderful.”
     “Aw! I’m so happy for you. You guys really deserved it.”
     “So are these, uh, your paintings?”
     “Oh! Yes, yes they are. They’re all for sale from five to a hundred dollars. I’m trying to keep a good range so maybe I can at least sell one,” Norah says hopefully.
     “Well, they’re all really great. Really. Like some of this stuff is just amazing.”
     “Well, thank you,” she says, not sounding very thanked. “I’m glad you could make it out here.”
     “Oh, no problem. Like I have anything better to do,” Doug says with a laugh.
     “So you’re just here because you have nothing better to do?” She says, seeming to seriously consider the possibility.
     “No, no, of course not. I’m here to see these wonderful paintings… and you.”
     She smiles. “Well, I’m glad I wasn’t just you’re default plan for the day.”
     Doug hesitates, smiles, and then just says, “Yeah.”
     Meanwhile, Jones had been hanging out with Arielle in her small apartment, with her roommate Ramona.
     “Wait, so that’s who you keep talking about?” Ramona asks.
     “Well, I mean-”
     “Yeah, it totally is,” Jones insists.
     Ramona is fashionable and frugal, and doesn’t give a fuck. She grew up in the slums of New York, and tries to use this fact as an excuse for her rudeness. She listens to an extreme amount of punk music constantly, and hates anything made before 1980. She once had sex with the guy from the New York Dolls. She doesn’t quite remember which. Under all of her layers though, she is quite a sweetheart.
     “Aw, you guys would make such a cute couple,” Ramona says truthfully with a smile.
     “Well… thank you,” Arielle says, feeling quite embarrassed that people around her are speaking of her failed love life.
     “Either of you want a beer?” Ramona asks, already on her way to the kitchen.
     “I’ll take one,” Jones says.
     “Arielle?”
     “No, I’m not really feeling like getting a buzz on right now.”
     As Ramona hands a beer to Jones, she announces, “So our little Katherine Arielle is in love with Doug Bowers. Wow.”
     “What do you mean, ‘Wow?’”
     “Doug’s just such a goofy dude,” Ramona says after taking a large swig of her beer. “It’s just adorable that he’s the guy you talk about all the time.”
     “Hmm…”
     “I think it’s wonderful,” Jones says with smile, “Absolutely wonderful. I just wish Doug could notice it.”
     “You could tell him, you know?” Ramona suggests to Jones.
     “No, you don’t have to do that,” Arielle quickly says.
     “You mean, you don’t want him to do it,” Ramona says with a smirk.
     “Well… yeah, that’s exactly what I mean,” Arielle says, pushing her head down into her bent knees, “You know, I think I will take one of those beers.”
     “Atta girl,” Ramona says, heading into the kitchen.
     “I do wish he noticed it though,” Arielle says to Jones, “He just always seems to be chasing some other girl, and whenever I try to talk to him… I don’t know. It just seems like it will never happen.”
     “Now don’t talk like that, it’s Doug we’re talking about. We know he loves you!”
     “Yeah, as a friend.”
     Jones frowns and takes a sip of his beer.
     “Here you go,” Ramona says, handing the beer to Arielle.
     “Where is Doug today, anyway?” Arielle asks.
     “Um,” Jones hesitates, “Working.”
     “Yeah? Maybe we should go get some coffee later than.” Arielle twists open her beer.
     “I could go for some coffee!” Ramona adds.
     “Uh… okay. Actually, you just caught me in a lie,” Jones admits sadly, “He’s out seeing a girl.”
     “Oh…” Arielle tries to act unaffected. “Is it that tall girl from the party the other night?”
     “Yeah.”
     Ramona cracks herself open another beer and Arielle quickly sips down half of her own.
     “I sometimes kinda wish I could just be like you, Jones,” Arielle says.
     “How so?”
     “You’re all just completely happy not being in love, hell, not even being attracted to anyone. I just wish I didn’t have to just have so many… feelings. All the time.”
     “Believe me,” Jones says, “You don’t want that. That’s the thing about my life that makes me the least happy, Arielle. Seriously, you do not want that.”
     A few silent moments pass.
     “Hey now! I’m tired of this negative talk,” Ramona says, “Now I’ve got a few old Jim Carrey movies and by golly, we’re going to watch them and you are going to goddamn laugh, Arielle. Alright?” Ramona stares at Arielle with a straight face. “Alright!?”
     Arielle laughs. “Okay, alright!”
     “You, too, Jones!”
     “Haha, I’m fine with that.”
     “Alright. Good, than,” Ramona says, “I didn’t steal this big screen TV from my ex-boyfriend for nothing.”