Finally I've finished this freaking thing.I hope you enjoy this a lot more than I enjoyed thinking of funny shit to write into it.
For reference, here's an approximation of what I had in mind for Gangsta!G.G
Dateology: Part Two
“Welcome to the Hakamichi household!”
Our von Trapp inspired greeting pleasantly surprises Ayane and her mother. Her father is just kind of like, “Fuck, the Steelers are playing tonight; I don’t want to hang out with these assholes.”
Or he’s just nervous and I’m being self-deprecating again.
“Hi there! My name is Misha Mikado! I’m not actually related to any of these people, but I would never pass up the chance to meet Hidecchan’s new girlfriend! Oh, and Shicchan can’t speak, so if she doesn’t talk to you, it’s not because she’s a total bitch. Also, Hidecchan has some lingering sexual identity issues, so if he acts weird, he can’t help it! Wahaha~!”
[Dammit, it was your job to make sure Misha didn’t start talking!] Shizune signs furiously to me.
[Bullshit! We traded off earlier!]
[I don’t remember that! I think you’re lying to me, Hideaki!]
[I traded three of my Misha shifts for three of your Jigoro protein shake making shifts! This was an hour ago, how could you forget?]
As the two of us flail our hands and Misha continues to laugh in obliviousness, our three guests have miraculously not run the opposite direction. They’re either polite to a fault or complete idiots.
Jigoro comes in after a while to save the day. Didn’t think you’d hear that one, hmm?
“Damn good to meet you, I’m the patriarch of this little ecosystem we call home! Please excuse my children; they suffer from a rare mental deficiency, called, uh... well it’s so horrific that the, uh, scientists who discovered it all... died... let’s eat!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“This is a lovely home you have!” Mrs. Ishino exclaims. Our sometimes Mexican gardener turned maitre D’ for the night, Dos Equis, (we don’t know his real name), seats Ayane and her family in the dining room. Just to clarify, I mean he sometimes gardens for us, not that he’s sometimes Mexican. But, I digress.
Mrs. Ishino is a rather tall woman, and quite lovely looking, like an older version of Kashiyuka from Perfume. Good genetics, or the best surgeon money can buy? The world may never know.
Mr. Ishino isn’t too shabby looking himself, if a bit unwilling to smile. Tall and slim, with broad shoulders and unnervingly trimmed eyebrows, it’s difficult to determine from which side Ayane’s looks come from. Perhaps a little bit of both came together to form a hot frankensteinian broth daughter.
Speaking of their daughter, Ayane looks very cute with her sweater and nylon stocking combination. It’s getting me all aflutter, anyway. I’m pretty sure that’s slang for aroused, but I could be wrong.
Anyway, my family waits for the Ishino’s to get settled before we seat ourselves at the table. I revel in the fact that my dress vest doesn’t slide up to the side of my face like it usually does. After months of searching, I managed to find a vest that could actually fit my girlish shoulders. And I didn’t even have to resort to looking through women’s sizes!
“So, Hideaki, are you a part of any clubs?” asks Mrs. Ishino as dinner gets underway.
“Well, I joined the Spanish club last year.”
“Oh, muy excelente!”
I laugh with her, not having the heart to admit that I have no idea what she just said. I joined because it meant free meals at Chipotle. That guacamole is all kinds of bitchin’.
Luckily, Misha and Shizune arrive with the food as visions of crispy tacos dance through my head. Steam rises from the grilled fish and rice plate, putting a satisfied smile on the faces of our guests. I just hope that steam didn’t come from a hidden microwaved tampon, like last time. I still haven’t worked up the nerve to eat Jigoro’s beef casserole. It’d just taste like lies. And wet, microwaved tampons, maybe.
After the two of them finish serving our esteemed guests, they take a seat themselves, and we can finally begin digging in.
“Dad, did you happen to put peppers in this rice?” I ask Jigoro, my politeness masking the worry in my voice.
“Why, yes I did, son!” Jigoro answers in a maybe-sincere-but-I’m-not-one-hundred-percent-sure way.
“Ahh... lovely!”
Not lovely. Dad always goes overboard with peppers. Last time he used them, our bathroom turned into a nuclear hellscape for the night. I’d rather not have a repeat of that while my date’s family is here, thank you very much.
“This meal is delicious, Mr. Hakamichi!” Ayane exclaims.
Jigoro grunts and grins in recognition. I swear if he calls her a seed carrier tonight I’m just going to be done.
“So, Jigoro, what exactly do you do for a living?”
It’s a valid question from Mr. Ishino, yet it still makes Shizune, Misha, and I freeze in place. In Misha’s case with a roll in her mouth.
“I’m happy you asked!” says my father, giddy as can be. “You see─”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And that’s essentially what I do in a span of a day!”
What a fine way to spend half an hour.
“That was very... yes!” Mrs. Ishino chimes. “I especially enjoyed the part with the car chase and the life-sized sculpture of Benedict Cumberbatch!”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Mrs. Ishino has to be extra nice to make up for her husband’s overall indifference and not-give-a-shitery. Must be a hard job.
“It’s good to hear that someone enjoys them! Children these days just don’t appreciate what goes into putting food on their table!”
Before he dives into another rant, I deflect the topic of conversation towards another subject.
“Mr. Ishino, do you have any stories?”
Smirking behind his shot glass, my date’s father drops said glass onto the table and adjusts the cuffs of his Ben Sherman button-down.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And then my brother lost his hand to some seal wearing a bow tie.”
“Did you try to find it?” Misha asks him, because this is obviously the first idea one would jump to.
“We tried using cats.”
“That sounds difficult!”
“It was very difficult. Cats are not ideal bait material.”
“I imagine!” Misha harps, wide-eyed with wonder. The missus humors her husband’s tales of dysfunctionality with a wide smile, while Ayane glances every so often between me and the entrance to our bedroom hallway. If I had any doubt as to her intentions, they vanished as soon as I saw her wink at me.
Suddenly I need to use the bathroom.
“Suddenly, I need to use the bathroom. Will you all excuse me?”
Mr. Ishino mentions something about a hook as I make a quick break for the bathroom. And the kitchen, also. I know that there are some oven fresh egg rolls in there, and I will not be denied them. They’re my comfort food. I’ll down those bastards like fat women down Ding Dongs. Ha, alliteration.
Hugging the wall to make certain the they don’t spot me from the dining room, I spot my prize from across the room. Battered goodness, here I─
“Were you looking for the egg rolls? I ate them all.”
“JESU─”
I cut my curse short as the dinner party becomes alerted to my presence.
“Uhh, allergies. Sorry!”
“Well, get your disease riddled body away from our food!” my father barks.
I ignore him, instead moving out of their line of sight to address my unwanted tag-along.
“G.G, I thought I told you not to─
Ohhh my God, those damn sure better not be my kettle cooked barbecue chips!”
“Stop trippin’. These are
my chips. I
bought them.”
“No, you’re a ghost. You have no possible way to achieve monetary gain. You can’t buy chips, ergo,
gimme my goddamn chips.”
The ghost girl does a little head swivel that I swear came out of an
In Living Color skit.
“Are you calling me a liar? I’ll have you know I paid for these chips with my hard-earned money!”
“You mean Mr. Furukawa’s hard earned money?”
“I knew I was forgetting a word!”
“What’s going on with you G.G? Talking like a World Star Hip Hop video, stealing people’s money to buy chips, spying on my dinner party when I asked you not to? I’m disappointed.”
A reddish glow forms around the edge of her eyes. Suddenly, she buries herself into my chest, her body shaking and her breathing labored.
“I’m sorry! I’m just trying to adapt to these trying and alien times!”
I do my best to console her during her downward spiral. The best I can do is a pat on the back and coo like a snow owl. It’s weird, but it’s a habit I picked up when I was younger. I’ve never really seen it work, but I’ve also never seen it not work.
“Are you good now?” I ask her softly.
“Yeah...”
“Excellent. Now, uh, can you leave?”
“I can’t.”
Sighing, I pull away from her. “And why not?”
“Cause we homies.”
“What?”
“Because you just gotta trust that I have your best interest in mind!”
“And what exactly is my interest?!”
Peeking into the dining room, G.G’s eyes go all squinty.
“I don’t trust that girl as far as I can throw her. Which shouldn’t be too hard; that girl’s skin and bone.”
I stop myself from mentioning that she, as ectoplasmic matter, weighs even less.
“G.G, look I appreciate your concern, I really do. But you just gotta let me do my thing, alright?”
“Your thing is dumb. You should listen to me.”
“
Look, I─”
“Hideaki! Get out here and mingle! You better not be having an anxiety attack again!”
I wouldn’t have
had that anxiety attack if you hadn’t have come into my room at four in the morning to ask how your new gas mask and survival raincoat looked, you dick.
“Look, I gotta go back out there. Just promise─
promise─that you won’t get involved tonight, alright?”
She doesn’t seem too happy with my request, but out of some deep-seated sense of respect she nods solemnly.
“If that’s what you want. But if I see any funny business going down, do I have permission to grab her nappy-ass weave?”
“If you’re completely certain that I’m going to die, feel free to grab as many weaves as you want.”
“Cool.”
She dissipates right before my eyes. Obviously, I’m not used to this kind of stuff, so I’m stuck standing in the kitchen for five seconds like an idiot. Eventually I make my way back into the dining room and sit down.
“Sorry for that, folks!” I apologize chipperly.
Our visiting family nods politely, and the dinner continues for a few more minutes in relative silence. That’s about all you get in the Hakamichi household, unfortunately.
“Dos Equis! El beer, pro favor?” my father calls. Our server for the night returns to my dad's side.
“Sir, I speak─”
“Don’t dawdle! Our guests are very thirsty!”
“
Si, Senor Culo,” Dos Equis replies, with biting sarcasm that my father fails to catch. Our guests, you guess it, smile politely and continue to pick at their meals. Of course, they could just also enjoy casual racism.
Our beverages, including a few glasses of green tea for Ayane and I, arrive a short while later. With any luck, Dos Equis reserved his vengeful phlegm for Jigoro’s scotch.
“Misha, dear, would you please tell Shizune that she looks absolutely beautiful tonight!”
Smiling widely, Misha relays the message over.
[Shicchan, Mrs. Ishino is coming on to you. Should I tell her that you’re in love with your career and don’t want to get into anything serious?]
Shizune finishes sipping her wine. [Let her off gently.]
“Shicchan is very flattered, but thinks that whatever issues you have with Mr. Ishino should be handled in the privacy of your own home! Wahaha!~”
The two of them look confused, and rightfully so, but let it slide on the probable assumption that Misha has been diagnosed with something that’s really hard to spell.
“Do you mind if I excuse myself for a few seconds?”
Everyone looks over at Ayane, who’s spoken her first words of the evening. And up to this point I just thought her default language was sexual tension.
“Why, sure, Ayane, go right ahead and excuse yourself!” My dad tells her, his voice heavy with innuendo. The fact that he’s very obviously nudging me in the side with his elbow, to the discomfort of everyone else at the table, doesn’t help.
“Err, thanks. I won’t be long!”
She hurries away from the table, breaking into a dainty jog. Where she’s off to in such a hurry, I’m not entirely sure.
Her parents ignore their daughters odd exit and strike up another conversation. “Jigoro, do you happen to know of the Okina Konpyuta company that just opened recently?” Mr. Ishino asks.
My father shrugs his shoulders. “Well, between you and me, I’ve always had something of a healthy distrust of technology, dating back to when my VCR exploded while I was taping a U2 concert. I was eight and had to sleep in my parents bed for a week. Not a proud moment for me, but anyway! Yes, I have heard of that company, why do you ask?”
Ayane’s father gets a large smile on his face. “I was just thinking that a man of your near limitless talents would be perfect to work for us!”
His wife’s face beams so bright we gotta wear shades.
“That’s an absolutely wonderful idea, honey! Completely, absolutely wonderful, I mean, just, wow!”
“No thanks,” Jigoro answers.
“... Excuse me?”
My father elaborates. ‘I’m a lone wolf at heart, you see. Don’t do well with others holding me back. Nothing personal, mind you, but it’s something I feel quite strongly about.”
They seem pretty shocked that they just got turned down. They obviously haven’t known Jigoro long, or they’d be used to the harsh disappointment he doles out like stale cupcakes at an office party. Nonetheless, they keep up (or at least Mrs. Ishino does) their polite facade. If it is a facade, I mean.
Suddenly, a loud thumping sounds from overhead, bringing our eyes towards the ceiling.
“What was that?” Mrs. Ishino asks, sounding a bit worried.
I poke my head behind dad and whisper, “Misha, you cleaned the opossums out of the attic, right?”
“I’m pretty sure I did, but they didn’t want to leave!” she whispers back. “You want to see the bite marks on my arms?”
“No, it’s fine, just─oh, wow, you should probably go to the hospital…”
“Hideaki! Go check out whatever’s upstairs!” Jigoro orders. “And I don’t care if you wrangle it, kill it, or choke it into submission, just take it out through the backway! I don’t want to disturb our guests!”
Giving him a mock salute, I leave the table and make my way up the stairwell.
Everything looks to be in order as I scan the upstairs area. Our trio of African tribal masks are a bit crooked, but that could have been anything. There’s a stain I haven’t seen on the wall nearby. I guess I could clean that later, before dad gets all pissy and yells at me to do it. The Swedish countryside painting we have is starting to flake a bit, we'll need to─wait, when did we get that one?
They should really stop going decor shopping without me, I keep saying I want to go to Costco, but they just blow me off and─
HMPHH!
I’m grabbed from behind and dragged onto the wall, a hand muffling my speaking hole. More importantly, I’ve been dragged back onto a girl. A rather grown girl…
Ayane?!
“What are you doing?!” I whisper, but my inquiry is cut short by her shushing me harshly.
“Ok, don’t freak out here, but I think there
may be… are you still with me?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a good chance that─you’re still following me, right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you won’t freak out, because I can’t promise─”
“Ayane, what is it?!”
“A ghost!”
“... A ghost.”
“A spectre! Ghoul! Banshee! Halloween cereal mascot! I sensed something downstairs, so I excused myself for a bit to investigate. I hope you don’t mind that I left you with my dumb parents.”
I remain speechless, my pedestal having been thoroughly shattered. I refuse. I refuse to accept that the one girl I like who actually returns my affections is Kenji with a vagina and nice hair.
No. Nonono.
“Ayane, I think we should just head back downstairs.”
“Nonsense! I could be on the cusp of something great here! I mean, wow, imagine what the boys back at the occult club will think when I capture evidence of a live ghost!” she daydreams wistfully.
“Occult club??”
“Of course! I’m the president!”
I stammer in disbelief. “B-but you’re the student council president!”
“And the president of the occult club. What’s the deal?”
“Is that why the official picture of the occult club president is just someone in a big black hood?” I ask her.
She nods while peering underneath a side table drawer. “It helps with the mystique. Also, it’s super comfy! Sometimes they let me take it home and sleep with it.”
My world is collapsing around me, and all I can do is sit Indian style on the floor and wait for something to hit me in the head. As if life itself agrees with how low I’ve sunk, I feel a rubber, bone-shaped dog toy hit me in the back of the neck. I don’t question how it appeared there, considering we don’t have a dog, but I have a hunch as to who threw it.
“I
told you this ratchet was gonna cause trouble!”
“Uggh!” cries Ayane, crossing her arms in offense. Apparently the fact that a ghost is talking to her doesn’t take precedence over the fact that it called her a ho. “There’s no need to be rude, alright?”
“Rude?!” G.G cries indignantly. “You don’t just waltz into my boy’s crib and start snooping around, girlfriend!”
Well, she does have a point. She’s going about it in a completely wrong way, of course, but nonetheless…
“I’m not your girlfriend, honey!” Ayane shoots back.
“I’m not your honey, sister!”
“I’m not your sister, doll!”
“I’m not─”
“You know what, I'm just gonna nip this in the bud already. Why don’t we all just separate and go on with a pleasant and charming evening? What do you girls say?”
They don’t say much of anything, as Ayane is too busy trying to shove G.G head first into a jar.
“Trust me, your body would be better served to science!” Ayane grits.
“Bitch, I’m sure you know plenty ‘bout body servicing, but I ain’t that kind of girl!’
Lots of hair pulling and attempted biting ensues. All the while, I fight off my base male instincts to sit and watch two girls fight over me, even if it doesn’t really have anything to do with me. To my credit, I do notice the rapidly growing amount of noise they’re making.
“Uhm, girls, you’re making a lot of noise, maybe you should─WAIT, DAMMIT, THAT’S WHERE I KEEP MY VINTAGE MAGIC CARDS!”
Rushing over to save my prized box of money-makers from falling out of their hidden grandfather clock compartment, I find myself inadvertently tangled up in the catfight.
“You ‘bout to get rocked!” G.G yells as she dodges a smack.
“Why are you talking like that?! You certainly don’t
sound like a ghost!”
“Oh, so now
all ghosts sound the same! Hideaki, you brought a racist into the house!”
“Ladies, you’re getting pretty close to me, do you mind─THAT’S MY HAIR.”
Pausing their scuffle for my sake, I readjust myself and take advantage of the cease-fire to try and restore order.
“Ok, no more throwing punches!”
G.G suddenly gets very giddy.
“Oh, are we rap battling now? Yes!
I smoke trees, I break knees─”
“NO RAP BATTLING.”
“Aww…”
“Look, quite frankly, this has been one of my weirder days. And I met a ghost one time, so I’m pretty knowledgeable about the subject.”
G.G’s eyes light up at being mentioned. It serves to remind me that underneath that hardened gangsta exterior lies the heart of a cute girl who’s been dead for multiple decades.
“Anyway, I know you two, well, got off on the wrong foot. But, just for tonight, you think we can go without any attempted ghost kidnappings and/or weave pulling?’
Ayane interrupts. “But, I don’t wear a weave─”
“I know, it’s a…. long story. Handshake? Fist pump? Whatever?”
The two girls lock eyes with each other. Ayane has about two or three inches on G.G, but the little ghost doesn’t back down.
“Cool?” G.G asks with trepidation, sticking her hand out in front of her.
Ayane lifts hers up with bit of hesitation.
“Cool… for now.”
As they settle their differences, we all hear a chorus of footsteps heard bounding up the stairs. G.G quickly fades from view, leaving Ayane and I alone to face Jigoro, the Ishino’s, and Mishazune.
“Great news, kids! Ayane’s father has, through sheer force of asking me for ten minutes straight, convinced me to join in a business venture with Okina Konpyuta!”
I guess the big smiles and metaphorical dick-tugging worked after all. I had little doubt it would though, what with my father's penchant for easy manipulation.
That just leaves the awkward predicament of Ayane being up here with me, both of us pretty roughed up from the triple threat scrap we just went through. No doubt their minds are buzzing with scenarios.
“Wahaha!~ Were you two planning your next date?” Misha teases.
Ayane steps in front of me before I can answer.
“Actually, Hideaki was kind enough to help me find my lost, err, Drake CD! I lost it earlier when I was using the bathroom, and I tripped while I was looking for it, hence the sound you heard!”
It’s impressively convincing.
“But, honey, you don’t listen to─”
“Oh my GOD, mom, you don't know anything about me!” Ayane yells tearfully, running past the group and back downstairs, her confused parents following behind.
A little while later, we say goodbye to our guests, with much buddy-buddying going on between my father and Mr. Ishino.
“Hey, Hideaki?”
I turn to meet Ayane.
“Yeah?”
“I just thought you should know… I really
did enjoy coming down here. I mean, yeah, the ghost thing was pretty exciting as well… at first. But, you and your family made me feel very welcome.”
She gives me a kiss on the cheek and smiles.
“See you around.”
My family and I watch the three of them leave, my sister giving me shit for the cheek peck. Once they reach the car, I spot Ayane gazing determinedly at the upstairs windows.
Following her gaze, I see the faint outline of a girl making the “I’m watching you” gesture.
.
