Change of Plans

“Shot of Jack Daniels.”

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Did I ask what you think, or did I ask for a shot?”

“Bitch,” the bartender mumbled under his breath loud enough for me to hear.

He was right. I was being a bitch, in one of those moods where nothing felt quite right. The agitation was getting worse day by day, had been building for months. Looking back, the entire semester was a shit show of anxiety. 

“What’s your problem?” Gen grabbed another handful of stale pretzels, grimacing, but eating them anyway.

“You too? Can’t a girl have a shot and enjoy herself for one freakin minute?” 

“Hey, just asking for a friend. No problem.”

The jukebox started playing again, drowning out any chance of continuing the conversation. I downed the shot and reached for my pack of cigarettes. I had been trying to quit, had almost kicked the habit but then didn’t. Soon, I promised myself, looking at those sticks that gave my fidgety hands something to do. Soon I’m going to dump you all. But for now, I lit it up and inhaled.

“Almost done with finals?” Mike came out of nowhere like a bad penny. My level of irritation increased.

“Yeah one left.”

“Which one?”

“Accounting.”

“Wait a minute,” Gen looked startled. “Isn’t that today?”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Drinking. With you. Listening to some good music.”

“Are you insane?”

“Could be.”

We stared at each other.

“Go.  Even if you’re late you can bang it out. You can do that shit in your sleep.”  Mike leaned over me reaching for the snacks just out of his reach. I watched him struggle rather than pushing the bowl closer to him. 

Turning my attention back to Gen I said, “Yeah. I’m not going.”

“Your last final exam of your last semester before graduation and you’re not going?”

“You got it, babe.”

“You’re drunk. I agree with Mike. Just go.”

I stood up suddenly, underestimating the height of the barstool and almost fell on my ass. Whoa. How many shots did I have? 

“So, I’m changing my major.”

Silence. 

I felt giddy suddenly. That thought just occurred to me, and it was hilarious. “Yeah. I’m switching to psych.”

“Psych.”

“Psych. You know, psychology.  The study of the human mind.”

“I know what psychology is. We took Psych 101 together. That’s where we met.”

“I remember. And I secretly fell in love.”

“With Gen?” Mike’s eye lit up. Why was he still there?

“No, asshole. With psychology. The whole thing, child psych, abnormal psych. I got a ton of credits already.”

“Yeah, but those are electives for your accounting degree.”

“Yeah, but I’m done with accounting. It’s bullshit. There’s nothing good about it.”

“Except for your guaranteed job and income.”

“I’m supposed to spend the next forty years juggling numbers to keep the tax man away? Because that’s what it comes down to. Nothing else. Nothing satisfying. Nothing tangible.”

“You’re good at it and you have a job lined up.”

“Wow.  I balanced the books for fake Acme Co in Accounting 101 in high school. I picked this major for lack of a better plan. Is it written in stone? A jail sentence?”

“Acme Co,” Mike laughed. “I watched the funniest episode of Bugs Bunny the other day…”

“Mike!” We both screamed at him.

He stopped midsentence, pretzel crumbs stuck in his beard. “What?” 

“Zoey is making a life-altering decision right now. Do you fucking mind?” 

“It’s ok, Gen. It’s decided. Let’s get some pizza. I’m starving.” I looked around for an empty table, spotted one in the corner and staggered my way over. I felt good. Except for the room spinning I felt great. Psych was the answer.

“Yeah baby. All the toppings.” Mike sat down first, followed by Gen who looked miserable.

“Lighten up, babe. It’s all good.”

“At least give it some thought. Make a list of pros and cons.”

Poor Gen looked so worried. Is that what I looked like before my life-altering decision? So tense. I actually felt a bit sorry for her.

“Sure. A list is good.” Anything to appease my best friend. I grabbed the napkin from under my drink, got out an eyeliner, and started writing. “Accounting. Feels like shit. Don’t like it. Psych. Helps kids. Makes them feel better. I like it.” I pushed the smeared soggy napkin across the table to Gen. “There you go. Psych wins.”

“A child psychologist? Is that the latest?”

“Yeah it is. Think of all those kids out there suffering silently. The world is a dangerous place full of perverts and sadists. There are things out there we cannot even begin to imagine. Heinous crimes scarring the most innocent children.” The thoughts were ricocheting around my mind faster than I could articulate them, making me suddenly emotional. Why hadn’t I realized this years ago? The pieces of the puzzle were coming into place, this new calling was replacing the shallow shell game that I had been setting myself up for. 

“My parents sent me to a shrink when I was fifteen. The school guidance counselor called them …”

“MIKE!!!” Gen was losing her shit. I laughed. I actually laughed. For the first time I was curious about Mike’s story. Why did the guidance counselor call his parents? I would text him later to find out. It might be something to discuss in my new career path.

***

Lord have mercy.

Kill me.

Doubled over I threw up. Massively puked. Were those chunks of pepperoni mixed into the stream of Jack Daniels? Or pieces of my intestines?

Gen held my hair back as I retched again. “Thanks, babe. I’m so gross I can’t even.”

“Not gross. You’re beautiful.” 

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “Mike!!! What the fuck? Where’s Gen?” 

“She’s handing in her English paper. She’s fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” He wiped my face with a cool cloth, actually making me feel a bit better. Did he call me beautiful or was I still drunk?

***

“It’s the fourteenth of April. You did it again. Why do you wait for the last minute to file your taxes?”

“Because I know my beautiful wife will take care of it for me.”

“We had a good year. The clinic did way better than expected.”

“That’s because you’re good at what you do. The kids love you.”

“Aww thanks, babe. The feeling is mutual. Those kids mean more to me than I ever could have imagined.”

“Come on, get dressed. Gen will be here in a few. You’re doing her taxes too.”

“Mike! What the fuck?”

“You keep the tax man away, remember?”

“I remember.” 

I took a sip of the steaming hot coffee in my Bugs Bunny mug and smiled.