I couldn’t take my eyes from his naked butt as he pumped away at the other woman. I’d never seen him from that angle, but somehow, from that perspective, everything became crystal clear. I remember turning, walking into the dining area, opening the china cabinet, removing a stack of those horrid dishes, and dropping them, all together, onto the floor.
The crash, the clatter of shattering dinnerware is quite resounding. It brought IV, naked and flushed all over, on the run.
“What are you doing?” he shouted.
I tossed a cup against the wall right by his hip.
“Hey! Jesus, watch out!”
A dessert bowl skimmed above the carpet and hit the leg of the buffet before cracking in half.
His face purpled as I whipped three saucers in rapid succession at his hairline. He ducked, but I discovered that I had a talent for china chucking. He jumped, his bare feet just missing a few shards of irregular china.
“Stop, I said!”
It felt good to fling a few soup bowls on either side of his naked chest. IV avoided getting hit, but the bowls wobbled like little UFOs before crashing into the framed prints on the wall behind him. He yelped that time.
He lapsed into swearing and threatening, but I continued pelting dinnerware in his direction. The bimbo in the bedroom must have called the police because right after the second stack of plates, the super let them in.
So, I got arrested for assault and disturbing the peace. IV, now clothed, tried to explain his way out of my apartment and called his mommy on his cell. We all went to the station. *His lawyer showed up as I was wiping the black ink from my fingers. No judge was handy; I would have to wait until morning. That was okay, because it gave me time to cool down in the jail cell with all my new friends.
Taken from China Doll, copyright Irene Peterson 2004