"I threaten your illusion; I am not attacking but defending my stance; positioning is important." » Y G H M®: the stories, yo
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“I threaten your illusion; I am not attacking but defending my stance; positioning is important.”

“I threaten your illusion; I am not attacking but defending my stance; positioning is important.”

“You don´t know what you´re talking about”, HR says as she moves the pawn forward, “I´m a grandmaster.”

“You´re a grandloser”, I reply as I chuckle; that was a funny joke.

“You always pick on girls?”, she replies as I move my queen up two squares.

“Only when they are cocky”, I reply as she moves her rook.

“Check”, she replies as she turns her head to me and smiles.

I slide my king over one square; my bishop now has a direct line on her king.

“Check yo head”, I reply as I take my gaze off the chessboard and turn my head to her, “´cause now you are in check.”

She looks down at the board; she turns her head to me; she looks down at the board, again.

“It´s mate–isn´t it?”, I pause; she´s going to make a great lawyer, someday.

“Good game, HR”, I put my hand out to her.

She reaches her hand out; we shake.

“Good game.”

“Good game.”

I pause; I turn my head to the board; these are the moments that I cherish the most.

“These are the moments that mean the most”, I say as I pick my pieces off the board and put them back in the box, “when I beat the shit out of you in chess.”

She rolls her eyes.

“You got lucky”, she replies as she picks her pawns off the board and puts them in the box, “I´ll wipe that smile off your face.”

I pause; awww… she´s an agressiva like her dad–I´m so proud.

“Next time”, I tell her as I put my last piece into the box, “I´ll take off my kid gloves and we´ll have a real chess match.”

“Yeah, sure”, she replies as she takes her last piece off the board, “whatever.”

“What do you want to eat for dinner?”, I ask as I put the board back in the box.

“You want to do pizza?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I take my digitaltelephone out of my pocket; I swipe right to the app; I select it with my pointer finger; I go to saved pizzas and scroll down to the 3rd picture.

“Hawaiian is good?”

“Yeah”, she replies as she stands up from the kitchen table, “sure.”

I click it; I hit pay; 0.395 nanoseconds later there´s a knock on the door.  I get up from my chair; I take a step towards the hallway; I open the front door; I take the pizza; I pull my digitaltelephone out of my pocket; I hit propina 12%; I set the pizza down on the table.

“I should have ordered two”, I remark as I pull a slice out of the box.

“Yeah, sure”, HR replies as she takes a bite, “whatever.  Hey–we have anything to drink?”

“There´s soda in the fridge.”

She gets up; pours herself a glass; sits back down.

“I like technology”, she says as she turns her head to me, “it makes life easier.”

“Yeah”, I reply as I take another bite, “it makes life easier–remember when the digitalinternet was out last week for 19 minutes and I had to walk to the neighbor´s house 39 meters away because the spacejet doesn´t function without the digitalinternet.  I checked on the neighbor and they were ok.  Then I was all like ´what a waste of 12 minutes´ and I started to sweat profusely because the A/C in Dorinto is interlocked with the local weather station so it got up to 28C.”

She turns her head to me.

“Your stories are lame.”

“So anyways”, I reply as I keep talking, “so that was like LITERALLY the worst day of my life–I mean like 12 minutes–but you know what I mean.  It is so much better with the digitalinternet–I never have to leave the house to check on my neighbor´s dog.  I mean–it´s a lot of work, right?”

“You do”, she replies as she turns her head to the pizza then back to me, “just keep talking–what is it with you?”

“So anyways”, I reply as I take another bite of pizza, “like I was saying before you rudely interrupted me–I walked 35 meters. Like–WHY?? And the dog was ok–like what was the point of that.  In the future, I hope the digitalinternet doesn´t go out–I´m not going to walk to my neighbor´s house again to see that their animals have food.  I mean–it´s a little absurd.”

“I´m reading Waiting For Godot in English class in college”, HR replies as she takes another bite of pizza.

“So anyways”, I reply as I take a sip of soda, “that´s great–so like I´m talking. Then, I saw that their goldfish didn´t have food in his tank–so I´m like ´OMG…. I get to be the hero´ and like… I feel… like… awesome.”

“You´re so lame, dad”, HR replies as she picks up another slice, “but like you´re family–so we can´t change the locks on the house, tell you to go to the store and then turn off the lights and pretend we moved.”

“So”, I reply as I pick up another slice of pizza, “that´s when I saw that also their guinea pig was low on food–and I´m like… ´double hero´ and so I gave him–his name is Elefante–the guinea pig… I gave him a fresh head of lettuce… and he seemed happy… and I felt like the guinea pig hero–like it feels really good.”

“You know”, she replies as she rolls her eyes, “if your life was in order, you would naturally feel good and dissolve the desire to jump in to be the guinea pig hero.”

I roll my eyes.

“Why the lesson? I´m trying to eat.”

“Because family is not you; it´s we.”

“Oh”, I reply as I take another slice of pizza out of the box, “I´m sorry.  We are the guinea pig heroes.”


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