Decameron: I Would Like my Coat Back, Mona [VIII/2]
Remember that night we drove up the mountain and sat beneath the stars, eating soggy footlong Subway’s sandwiches while we watched the lights from the cars in the city below scoot back and forth across the bridge? There was something magical about that night. It was dark, but I could still see your face, warm and illuminated. It was cool, but in a loose, breezy way that came at our skin in gentle chops. The headlights below looked almost like fireflies. Time was a fuzzy blur. All I could think about was you, your hand in mine. We felt the temperature start to drop, but we stayed there, wanting to stretch the moment out as long as possible. When you got goosebumps, I took my jacket off and draped it around your shoulders, wanting to keep you protected, and cozy, safe in my shelter.
Anyway, that’s why I’m writing. I’d like my coat back.
I know we’re still together, so this isn’t a break-up letter. I very much want to keep seeing you going forward. I know also that, being non-exclusive as we are, you sometimes wear the coat out on dates with other men. This, too, is absolutely fine by me. We’re both adults and, more than that, we’re adults who are particularly open and honest with each other.
It is in that spirit of honesty that I want my coat back.
Look, it’s a great coat. You must know this, because you’ve foiled me every time I’ve tried to take it back in the past. You’ve made sure not to wear it over to my house when you’ve come by. When I visit you, it’s always “at the office” or “in the car, parked back at a friend’s house.” You can never tell me where the friend’s house is. You always glance suspiciously at the locked safe in your bedroom.
When I used my key to get into your apartment and hunt for it myself, it was nowhere to be found, even though I’d seen that you weren’t wearing it that morning. Sure enough, the next day, you wore it to a party. I tried to sneak it off you there (I followed you in my car), yet you never took it off, even when I turned the thermostat up to 88.
One morning, when you were wearing the coat out to get some groceries, I paid a small child to run up to you, fake shivering, and beg you for it. I even arranged for there to be witnesses to this, so you’d feel social pressure to hand over the coat. I was sure, I have to admit, that this was going to work.
But no. You kept the coat on and kept walking. I don’t know if you recognized Teddy from his Kix commercial or the crowd of witnesses from their many respective J.G. Wentworth commercials, or if you really are that stone cold when it comes to this coat. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I still don’t have my coat back, and now Teddy’s mom is calling me up every two days looking for more gigs.
Mona, please. I’m a simple man. I just want a slammin’ hot girlfriend like yourself, who I can see as our respective calendars allow, and my coat. Is that too much to ask? Mona, listen, listen. Mona. It’s super soft, Mona.
Decameron is a newsletter recounting the 14th Century set of quarantine tales for 2020. Read the original story.
Tell your friends!