Magical Thinking by Augusten Burroughs Page B

then get tetanus. Then I was on the sidewalk. The trouble was, I couldn’t get the ladder extension back up in place. And my window was open. Anybody could now just hop up onto the ladder and climb into my apartment. There would be nine hundred dollars fanned out on a box waiting for them.
    On the corner was a lesbian bar with a pay phone. I used the pay phone to call Debby and explain the situation.
    “I’ll be right there. Ten minutes, tops,” she said, almost breathless with excitement, like an E.M.T. Then in a calmer, more lyrical voice she added, “What would you do without me?”
    Have a beer blast.
     
    When I returned from L.A. my apartment was unpacked, and everything had been arranged according to Debby. She’d evenhung my pictures on the wall at waist height. Then on the kitchen counter was a note: “Welcome home Augusten. As you can see, your new home is beautiful. Unfortunately, I greatly underestimated the amount of time it would take to assemble the apartment. In fact, I underestimated by exactly half. Therefore, I will require another nine hundred dollars (in cash) at your earliest convenience. See you Sunday!!!!! Debby.”
    I was horrified. She’d arranged my furniture only to allow for the wide sweep of her mop and not with any aesthetic eye. The table, the sofa, and the coffee table were all lined up against one wall, creating a large expanse of bare floor in the center of the room. Against the opposite wall were the two other living-room chairs and an end table. It looked something like a reception area. And on top of this, she wanted twice the amount we agreed on.
    I was about to sit on the sofa to think when I saw a hair. It was a long, brown Debby hair. And the sofa cushions themselves were dented in such a way that I could almost see the outline of her body. As though she’d been napping.
    And suddenly, it seemed clearer to me than any window Debby ever polished: she was taking advantage of me. And I’d been allowing it. She was drinking a bottle of cheap white wine at my apartment every Sunday. She was taking naps on my sofa. She was cleaning only the lower portion of the apartment. And now she wanted more money?
    “Brad, what should I do?”
    Brad sighed into the phone. “Well, I think you’ve let her take over your life. And you need to create a boundary.”
    “How?
    “Fire her sorry ass.”
    “Yeah, but—” I stopped. Could I fire her? Was it just that simple? Was I actually the one in control? “Can I just do that? Fire her?”
    Brad chuckled into the phone. “Sure you can. Tell you what.I’ll fire her, too. We’ll both fire her, and that’ll make the blow even harder.”
    In many ways, Brad was such an excellent friend. If I ever needed somebody to drive the getaway car, I knew I could count on him.
    “Okay, I’ll call her now. And then are you gonna call her?”
    “No,” Brad said. “No, I think I’ll make more of a game of it. Maybe I’ll bake some laxative brownies and then fire her when she’s home on the toilet, calling in sick.”
    I didn’t have the passion to play any more games with Debby. I just wanted her gone. After I hung up with Brad, I called her. “Listen Debby, we have a problem.” I was furious, so my voice was firm and authoritative.
    “Yes we do,” she countered. “You owe me money and I’d like it.”
    I was shocked by her own tone of voice, which was angry, demanding. “I just walked in the door five minutes ago, Debby.”
    “I checked your flight information. You got home last night, plenty of time to call me up so I could get my money.”
    “I had to take a later flight,” I said. And then thought, she checked my flight arrangements?
    I said, “You’re fired, Debby. I won’t be needing you anymore. I’d like my keys back.”
    “You cocksucking faggot,” she shouted. “You can’t fire me.”
    “I sure as shit can, you ugly fucking midget. Send me back my keys, you granny-cunt.”
    “Go to hell,” she screamed and hung