Mempsis


Mempsis (memp’-sis): Expressing complaint and seeking help.


“I stuck my goddamn cane in dogshit again. I need your help cleaning it off. Here’s a napkin from Wendy’s.” I was laughing inside. I was 87 and my brother was 85. I loved sticking my cane in dogshit and watching him clean it off. It happened every time we went for a walk and the stupid jerk hadn’t caught on yet.

I hated my brother. He was a draft-dodging, wife -stealing dog. He stole my first wife, Sonia, when I was 22 and she was 20, He bought her a red Cadillac Eldorado for her birthday. All I could afford was a “Kiss” t-shirt and a macrame bracelet. Sonia was impressed and rode off in the Cadillac with my brother and never came back,

At the time I was working as a busboy “Pyro Gyros Greek Cuisine.” All I earned was tips I split with the waitresses and waiters. My brother, on the other hand, owned three successful businesses: “Modeling Clay Sensations,” “Lolita’s Lotions,” and “Thick Strip Pork Products.” He was a millionaire and scoffed at me every chance he got, or made.

He called me “Busboy” instead of John—my real name. He and Sonia would eat at Pyro Gyros at least three times a a week. He would give me a “secret tip” that I didn’t have share. No matter how much he spent, he’d dangle a five-dollar bill in front of my face and make me bark like a seal, clap my hands like flippers, and make me take the money in my mouth. It was humiliating, but I desperately needed the money. My second wife had shingles and I could barely afford the medicine. Her upper torso and face were covered with the rash. She laid in bed cursing me out and whining with pan. She admitted having an affair with my bachelor neighbor Hugo. She assured me she will be leaving me as soon as she’s cured. I thought about murdering her, but kept blocking her out of my head with liberal doses of vodka. As soon as she was cured, she jumped out of bed, packed her bags, and moved in with Hugo. Good riddance!

So, Sonia died two years ago and in the wake of her death, my brother has become more charitable toward me. Hence, the dogshit wiping. That’s one of the many ruses I use to get back at him. For example, I don’t need adult diapers but I wear them anyway so my brother can change me when I soil them. I love asking him to “please wipe my ass” when we’re out in public somewhere. He’ll bring me into a restroom and and I climb up on the changing table.

“Turn about is fair play.” I learned that from watching the “Apprentice” on TV. Ha ha!


Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

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