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Dissed By The Retarded Again before/after I sat in the living room of my brother's fiance's parents house in Chicago, on the couch. I slept on that couch. It was leather, or some kind of rubberized leather. It was nice. Her youngest sister, a downs syndrome child, 23, sat across from me, whaling down her pop-tarts and Kool-aide. She was about to go play tennis. Her friend, also with downs, entered the room and spoke to me. "Hi." "Hi." I said. "I'm Sophia." she said, extending her hand. "I'm Argentum." I shook her hand. "Are you Chris' brother?" "Yes." I replied. "That's nice." she said with a slur. "Sometimes." I retorted. She looked at me with a leer. "Sometimes you're good-looking." she said. "Sometimes?" At this point, Betty lifted her head up, jealous, and shrieked at her friend. "So-PHI-a!" "What, Betty, you know I like the good-looking guys." Sophia replied quickly, with slur. They jabbered at each other quickly, then left to go play tennis with another woman, leaving me to contemplate my next move on my own.
Sometimes?
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