Eduardo at Chuck-E-Cheese

Eduardo slowly puts a Cheesey Pop into his mouth.

He is at Chuck-E-Cheese, a pizza joint/play place filled with games for kids. They’re celebrating his youngest’s birthday. His wife is next to him. She is talking to the moms and dads of the other kids. Absentmindedly, Eduardo puts another slice into his mouth. His wife pokes him in the ribs, a clear sign that he should stop eating like a pig. He ignores her and keeps shoving food down his throat. His mind wanders. This is what we hear:

“That Cindy’s a pretty nice redhead. Look at those thighs, goddam. It’s a wonder she’s had as many kids as my Cecile. Why do some women let themselves go after a certain number of kids? Christ, speak of the devil. They always want money. Here you go kid, it’s your birthday, knock yourself out. Meanwhile, check out that Cindy’s thighs. Yeah baby, move that skirt up a little. Goddam Cecile, stop poking me in the ribs. Ok, so I’m eating a lot, what’s it to you? I’m so fucking tired. Is there any way to keep these kids from screaming? I mean, seriously, hours and hours hearing the animals yell at me and I gotta come home to this? I wish children weren’t our main customers. Dealing with them at work, then at home. I guess Emile’ll only turn six once, might as well let him have it. Here comes the waitress. Hello, this girl’s gotta be at least eighteen right? Can anyone tell that I’m staring? I’ll hide it by taking a slice out of this pizza. Was she just looking at me? Was that a bit of a flirtation there going on? Here’s your extra pepperoni... and some love.”

Eduardo laughs to himself and all the other parents around him turn around to see what he’s laughing at. Cecilia pokes him in the ribs harder than she’s done all night. Eduardo excuses himself. Still smiling, he wipes some sauce off his chin and gets up. Cecilia glares at him and he explains that he has to go the bathroom. On his way there he sees his kids. The oldest (eight) is picking on the birthday boy. His first fatherly incstinct is to go stop it, but then he remembers that he used to be an older brother too. Sometimes, a little picking on isn’t that bad. It builds character. He thinks of himself at that age, dreams and hopes and such. As he opens the door to the bathroom, we interrupt him midthought:

“...it’s not that I don’t like my job, my job’s fine. Owning a pet shop isn’t terrible. For one thing, I own it. I’m not anybody’s employee. I kind of wish I’d finished veterinary school though. How cool would that be? Dr. Eduardo. Maybe then I’d get the respect I deserve. When did I quit exactly? Third year? Second year? Well, it’s complicated because I did get some higher courses in my first year. Remember that blonde from fourth? Jesus, I wonder what she’s up to.”

He unzips his pants and realizes he’s aroused. He pees despite the issue.

“Does it count as cheating if I’m thinking of other women when I fuck my wife? No, it can’t. I’d never tell her about it though. I’m sure she thinks of other men too, so there. It’s not that I’m doing anything that bad. I fucking hate that therapist, I’m really glad we don’t go there anymore. Two sessions was enough to tell she was a man-hating remora. What the hell, first she says to tell her what I’m thinking of and when I do I get reprimanded. That can’t be healthy or clinical. I hate professionals with their own agenda. I wonder who’d I be fucking if I’d just followed through with that whole band thing. I should buy a new bass, I’m sure with a bit of practice I could get back on the horse again. Yeah, I’d like to get on some bitches. Why the hell am I so horny? When was the last time Cecile and I fucked? Can’t remember. Wasn’t that long ago. She’s still fine, though. She’s nothing like when she was young. I’d love to see all those “upper class” women’s faces back there if I told them I met Cecile at a Blood Hound Gang concert. And her plan was to sleep with a roadie! And she confused me with one of the band when I was just trying to get Jimmy Pop to sign my bass!”

Eduardo laughs hard as he zips his pants back up. The man in the urinal next to him looks at Eduardo very uncomfortable. Eduardo waves his hand at him and laughs. The man stares at his urinal as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Still laughing at the memory, Eduardo opens the water faucet to wash his hands. As the cold water runs around his skin, the laughter begins to die down. He takes some of the clear liquid and splashes it over his face. The water drips down his chin and he sees himself in the mirror. In his own eyes, he sees the reflection of his father staring back at him. We eavesdrop:

“I’m old. Fuck, fuck, I’m old. Look at those bags under my eyes. Was that there yesterday?”

He touches the edges of his eyes.

“What the hell is this? Lines? I look beat up for a thirty one year old. To think I was twenty three when Charlie was born. Twenty five when Cecile had Emile. Twenty five! Where did my youth go? I’m still thirty though. I could bolt. I could just leave them, forget them, fuck it. Plenty of men do it. It’s a wonder I’ve stuck around as long as I have. Just get the old bass out of the garage, maybe buy a new one, go out. Someone’ll want a bass player somewhere. And with business experience too! I should leave most of the money, though. No sense leaving Cecile to fend for herself. Just leave. Just...”

Eduardo breathes in deep. The man who was using the urinal next to his leaves. He is alone in the bathroom. Suddenly, the waitress that had been looking at him before bursts into the bathroom. Embarrased, Eduardo sputters that this is the men’s room. She replies that she knows and locks the door behind her. Eduardo stares blankly. She comes up to him, slowly showing the skin underneath her Chuck-E-Cheese-employee shirt. His heart is beating like it’s going to leave his chest. His mouth is horribly dry.When she gets up to him, she whispers something into his ear. Through his ear we go then, and enter his mind once more.

“A fan? A fan? We still have fans? How can a girl this young be a fan of a band older than her? That just...that doesn’t....”

She touches his crotch. Slowly, clearly seeing that he doesn’t believe her, she takes out her cellphone from between her breasts. He sees, and yet still doesn’t believe. The background on her phone is the band’s logo. With a quick movement of her fingers she shows him a video of one of the twenty of so concerts they ever played. She explains that her aunt was a huge fan. She’d grown up listening to their only self released cassette. When she saw him at the table she could hardly believe her luck. He mutters something about being married and she answers by sticking her tongue into his ear. Her leg wraps around him. He is clearly hyperventilating, completely losing control of the situation.

“Am I dead? Is this some sort of fantasy? Shit, I fell asleep at the table. Come on Cecile, wake me. Wake me. This is going to be embarrasing as shit. Light levels. In a dream you can’t adjust light levels, I saw it in a movie once. If the light doesn’t change, I’m dreaming.”

Feebly Eduardo pushes the young girl off him and rushes towards a light switch in the bathroom. He flips it several times and the light turns on and off. She giggles and thinks it’s some sort of crazy sex thing. She begs him to hurry and reaches over to unbuckle his pants.

“Just let go. Just let go. Enjoy it, it’s actually happening. All your fantasies. Now you can leave your wife. Just up and leave her. Bye, Cecile. No more yelling, no more hysterical children. No more having to pick them up from school. No more supporting Cecile’s projects. No more her supporting mine. No more stupid making love all quiet at three AM so the kids don’t wake up. No more sweet making love all quiet at three AM so the kids don’t wake up. No more screaming. No more laughing. No more getting awoken at five in the morning on Christmas Day by monsters jumping on my bed. No more holding Cecile when she’s crying. No more kissing rapidly before work. No more nagging, thank God, no more nagging. Just let go. Just...”

The girl’s hand is touching his nipples now. Eduardo shakes his head like he’s trying to dry his hair. She looks confused. He pushes her away, hard this time. He buckles his pants back up, he puts his shirt inside his pants. She just stares. He goes for the door. She stops him. He tries to push her aside. She just touches her breasts and leans torwards him. He pushes her aside firmly and opens the bahtroom door.

Sitting with his wife and the other kids’ moms and dads, he takes her hand into his. He closes his eyes and leans his head on her shoulder. She understands he’s very tired from work. He knows he’s home.