How to Excavate a Heart

She texted me a few weeks ago saying, “ur gr8 gma’s friend Beatrice lives in dc & said u could stay if u need 2.” (My mom texts that way because she thinks it’s cool. I don’t even know where to start with that one.)

“ALCOHOL: BECAUSE NO GREAT STORY EVER STARTED WITH SOMEONE EATING A SALAD,”

What I haven’t missed is the fact that natural history museums were founded to glorify empires and display specimens collected during colonialist expeditions.

“Yeah, he’s kind of a DILF,” Tasha adds, and I try not to choke on my own saliva. They don’t yet know that there are approximately zero dads I’d like to fuck.

I smile at the boy, hoping it’s enough to get me free coffee.

I’m not at all surprised that Mandira’s queer, because she’s incredibly cool and has short hair and wears button-downs and has a mammoth tattoo. Not that any of these things mean someone has to be queer, but taken together they’re a pretty good indicator.

If Christmas weren’t such an all-consuming holiday, we’d be perfectly productive capitalist cogs. But instead, we’re perfectly unproductive capitalist cogs, awaiting the arrival of the most capitalist holiday of the year.

“Of course he has a corgi,” Dr. Graham says, laughing and shaking his head. “My intern knows Greg Stern!”

“But honestly, if this was really a Hallmark movie, we’d both be the quirky sidekicks for the WASPish main character who returned to DC to work on her family’s hot chocolate farm or whatever.”

“And I told her that’s a silly goal, because fifty books is too many!” Beatrice cuts in, smacking Lauren’s shoulder with a folded newspaper. “What’s she doing, reading fifty books? Watch some damn TV. That’s what I say. Doctor’s orders.”

“Just let me talk. Don’t, like, say anything. Okay?”

We look at each other for a beat, and I don’t know what to do and I wish I wasn’t nervous but also there’s a cute girl in front of me so of course I’m nervous.

“Isn’t it a stereotype that like every queer person is a vegetarian?”

To quote the most famous lesbian of all time, Elsa of Arendelle, “The past is in the past.”

Homo fuckup.

“On this level: café and morgue.”

“In my head, the new way we met is that I saw you flirting with a child barista at a coffee shop and I thought you were so cute that I was jealous of the kid so I dueled him for your honor.”

Like, my girlfriend’s a freak for infrastructure. She knows more about the DC sewer system than practically anyone else.” Mandira grins. “I love her so much.”

“Now go be young,” Beatrice says with a wink. “It’s only your last night in DC once—but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“So, I’m kind of . . . dating her?”