Rebound

What do you call a drummer without a girlfriend?Homeless. Why did the drummer stare at the can

of frozen juice? It said "concentrate."My friends must've been saving up these jokes

for weeks, but shared them only after the flinghad ended. What do you call a woman who loses

180 pounds of useless fat?Divorced. Yes, the drummer was tall and strong,

an ex-Marine who'd served in Somalia and wona medal for quick decision-making, which means

he'd shot a camel that was blocking the road.But oh, the way he lifted me, held

me by the hips, carried me from roomto room, so in the morning I'd have to right

the fallen furniture, clean my handprintsfrom high on the bathroom mirror where I'd braced

myself, like tidying a murder scene.When we broke the futon, felt its leg snap

and buckle beneath us, I laughed, but hekept going. I visited his place only once.

His rented room was slanted five degreesas the house slipped downhill towards a creek.

He'd made it up for me, swept the floor,but either didn't own or couldn't find

a dustpan, so I almost walked right into the moundof dirt, hair, broken glass, and change,

enough to buy a watery beer downtown.I picked out the coins and left them atop

the crate that served as his nightstand. His father had diednot long before. He wanted to fall in love.

It took me over a week to convince him that wehad broken up. Later, after he

was dating a girl I'd introduced him to,I heard that he and my ex had become friends.

It was inevitable, in that college town,that sticky dive bar where, the story goes,

a man got stabbed during an argumentabout what possums eat. I wonder what

they talk about. Music, probably—crunchy guitars, fuzzy amps, why

a pillow in a bass drum helps to muffle the sound.