Clutching her iPhone to her ear, Elaine let the dice roll across the surface of her living room table.
“What was that sound?” Her friend, Giselle, was on the other end of the line.
“Just rolling the dice to see how many hit points I lose.”
“Are you playing Dungeons and Dragon’s while you’re on the phone with me?”
“Yeah.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes.”
Giselle sighed. “Shit, honey, you need to get a life. I mean, don’t they have computer games for that shit now? Why are you playing with fucking paper and dice?”
“I like to stay true to the roots of the game.”
“Fuck, honey, you’re so disconnected from reality.”
“I am not.” Elaine bristled. “I am very active with my friends on World of War Craft.”
“Honey, those are people you have never actually met and you’re calling them friends?”
“I know my friends online more than I actually know most physical people.”
There was a click and Elaine knew that Giselle was having a cigarette. “Honey, do you hear yourself? Physical people? When was the last time you went out of your apartment?”
“I go to work.”
“Yes, but out, out. For goodness sake, Elaine, hen was the last time you got laid?”
“Does masturbation count?”
“No.”
“Three months.”
“Oh honey.” There was a sigh in Giselle’s voice. “That’s not just a dry spell, that’s a dry river.”
“You’re preaching to the choir.” Elaine rolled the dice again.
“But honey, there are people you can talk to about this kind of thing.”
“I’m not talking to a shrink.”
“No, honey, I’m talking about a sex therapist or something.” Giselle took another drag off of her cigarette. “I saw it on a talk show once. These people help you figure out why you’re afraid of people.”
“Through sex?” Elaine’s voice was doubtful.
“It’s been known to work miracles. You should try it sometime.”
“Honey, when are you going to realize that you’re completely disconnected from reality. I mean, you click around on your iPhone all day, you ticker away at your laptop all evening. You send messages to people on Facebook and Twitter. But honey, I mean, do any of these people really know who you are?”
“I don’t know.” Elaine tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
Giselle sighed. Elaine pictured a cloud of smoke being released with this sound of frustration and concern. “Elaine, sweetheart. You need to get out of your apartment. You need to meet someone new.”
“Well,” Elaine said, bristling. “At least I’m practically a virgin right? If this was a horror movie, I’d be one of the survivors. A virgin never dies and always outsmarts the killer, right?”
Giselle made a noise on the other end of the telephone line, a sort of snort. “See, I’m all concerned for your welfare and you come out with shit like that.” There was another click as she lit another cigarette. “Sometimes, I just don’t get you, honey.”
69B 