What Do You Wear To An Affair?

The tiny little plastic phone rang. He picked it up.

“Ken?”

“Speaking.”

“It’s me, Barbie.”

“Oh. Hi Barbie. What’s up?”

“Have you got a minute? It—it sounds noisy. I called at a bad time, didn’t I? I should just…”

“No, no, no. Don’t be silly. Hold on a sec.” After a minute of mumbled confusion he came back on the line. “Okay, that’s better.”

“Really Ken, if this is a bad time…”

“No, no. It’s just, I’m, I volunteered to help coach the Lego team in the upcoming Toy-Olympics, and…”

“Really! That’s wonderful Ken. What are they competing in? The Balance Beam? Water Hockey? Triathlon?”

“Tobogganing. I think. It’s what they’re best at.”

“Really. Well, I wouldn’t expect them to enter the high jump, or pole vaulting, of course, but…”

“Well I don’t expect them to win either, but I expect them to give it their best shot.”

“Of course you do, and I’ll be pulling for them too.”

“Well, thanks, Barbie. I’ll be sure to let them know. So. Uh… what did you call about?”

“Mmm, it’s funny that you’re coaching the Lego’s because, well, my agent called me a few days ago, and told me I’d be doing a movie with Batman.”

“The’ Bat Man? Wow. So you’re calling to rub it in? Jeez, that’s harsh as…”

“No, you don’t understand, Ken. They want me to do the movie with the Lego Batman, not the real toy.”

This news presented Ken with an amusing mental image that might have made him smile, those long lithe legs standing next to that tiny little Lego bat creature. He kept his amusement out of his voice as he asked her, “What’s the problem with that?”

“Oh come on, Ken. I’m a foot tall, what’s he, about six centimeters?”

“Ah yes, the love scenes, could get awkward.”

“The love scenes? The whole notion of putting me in a movie with a bunch of Lego toys is humiliating. But my agent says I can’t opt out.”

“That’s what contracts do.”

“And that’s what lawyers are for, Ken.”

He wondered why she was suddenly consulting him. What her real motives were. “What happened to Blaine? I thought you two were ‘besties.”

“Ooooh,” she said, “You didn’t hear about his leg?”

“No.”

“Got bitten off by a Great White Shark while surfing off of New Zealand.”

“Is that a big deal?”

“His leg is gone, Ken.”

“Doesn’t he know any plastic surgeons?”

“Well sure, but you know how it is, it’s part of his new persona.”

“A one-legged persona? What’s he gonna do for a living?”

“He’s a para-olympic athlete, and quite an inspiration to all the kids and a lot of adults, too.”

“No doubt, no doubt. It figures. What’s he training for?”

“Cross-country skiing.”

“With one leg?”

“No one said it would be easy. Besides, he says there’ll be less friction on one ski.”

“No. It would be easier to have someone snap his leg back into place, but…”

“Now you’re just being spiteful, Ken. You obviously haven’t gotten over our breakup…”

“I’m not being spiteful. Honest, I’m not.”

“Really Ken.” She shook her head. “The way you hold onto things, it’s absurd.”

“You mean things like my legs? Yeah.”

“No.”

“I should give my legs up?”

“No. Stop being ridiculous. This is serious. And I broke up with Blaine ages ago. Don’t tell me you’re still carrying a grudge over that little fling?”

“That wasn’t a fling. You left me flat—for a beach bum. I didn’t see you for three years…”

“Well, what can I say, Ken? I wanted something different, something more, something…”

“Like an Australian beach bum,” Ken finished for her.

“He was a surfer.”

“Now he’s a skier with one leg. How original.” Before she could answer he added, “Who broke it off, you or him?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“The shark, Ken. I wasn’t even there.”

“I meant the relationship, not the leg.”

“Oh. I broke it off, Ken. And you know that.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“That’s… Oh, you’re just trying to unnerve me. You know how it works, Ken. I date, I flirt, I fling, but I don’t marry and I don’t have babies. I’m not that kind of doll.”

‘Ken was smiling. Ken was always smiling. Maybe that was what was so annoying about him. G.I. Joe never smiled.’

As if reading her mind, Ken said, “How’s everything working out with G.I. Joe?”

“Ucht.” She groaned. “Like you care.”

Ken sat up a little straighter. “I do care. You know I do.”

Barbie sighed. “It’s exciting…No. I take that back. It’s exhilarating, not exciting. In fact it’s boring. Every time we go out, he ends up killing someone. Always a bad guy, for sure. But it’s always the same goddamned mele, different address. And it’s invariably a bloody, gory, mess. I’ve lost or ruined so many outfits it’s not even funny anymore.”

“What did you expect? He’s an action figure.”

“And the eye patch. It’s so stupid.”

“Why? What’s under there?”

“Nothing, except his eye.”

“You mean he can see?”

“I don’t know, Ken. The point is, he never washes it.”

“His eye?”

“His patch, for God’s sake. It stinks to high heaven. He refuses to take it off, even when we’re trying to…”

“Trying to what?”

“Really, Ken. It’s not—let’s not go there.”

“Go where?” He said, innocently.

“Down to that tired, old, pointless—place.”

“It’s not a place, it’s an activity.”

“That we can’t really engage in.”

“I’m not sure if that’s true,” Ken said, “I don’t know if it’s you, or if it’s me, or both of us, but we seem to lack imagination in this….”

“Are you serious?” She said. “Have you seen some of my outfits?”

“In this particular area.” Ken continued. “No, yeah, of course I’ve seen your outfits. Maybe we could transfer that creativity to a different kind of activity.”

“Ken, please. This is, so difficult, for both of us. You simply lack the equipment, for reasons that still escape me, after fifty years…”

“Yeah, I know but…”

“It’s so frustrating…”

“Yeah, I know Barb, but listen to me.”

“Ken.”

“Barbie listen.”

“Ken.”

“Barbie, shut up and listen. I discovered an online site that sells toys.”

“Ken, we’re a little old for toys.”

“Miniature toys, Barbie.”

“Miniature toys? What would we do with miniature toys, Ken?”

“These are adult toys.”

“And?”

“Think about what I’m saying Barbie.”

Several seconds passed as Ken waited, patiently. His attraction to Barbie was molded into his PVC soul. The clock ticked off several more seconds.

At last she said, “Oh! Adult toys! Oh my God. That’s brilliant, Ken. But—wait, how is this, will they work?”

“Who knows. Who cares? We’ll try ‘em out. Have fun. See what happens.”

“You may be dumb, Ken, but you’re amazingly resourceful.”

“Are you free tonight? Or spending another crime scene with G.I. Jack?”

“Oddly enough, my calendar is suddenly wide open. Nothing on it for days.”

 “Then there’s only one thing left to settle.”

“What’s that?”

“Your place or mine?”