"George Alec Effinger - Maureen Birnbaum in the MUD" - читать интересную книгу автора (Effinger George Alec)

MAUREEN BIRNBAUM IN THE MUD
E. J. Spiegelman
(As told to George Alec Effinger)

So picture this:

I'm like sitting on the edge of the upstairs bathtub, which in Mums and Daddy's house is
half-sunken so my knees are jammed up under my chin, and I'm watching my dear, dear frie
Maureen Birnbaum the Interplanetary Adventuress, apply eye shadow. Maureen is, you kno
very finicky about makeup when she uses it, which isn't often these days because she's most
barbarian swordsperson who only rarely bothers with normal stuff.

Her style of dress begins and ends with her solid gold-and-jewel brassiere and G-string
and her grooming habits have likewise been put on hiatus in favor of perpetual vigilance.
Muffy-that was her old nickname back in the Greenberg School days, but you should know
much she hates it now-spends her waking hours hacking and hewing villains and monsters.
is, she tern me, a very good hacker and hewer indeed, and I should doubt her? Well, okay,
entre nous sometimes I have just these little teem suspicions that Muffy's narrations are
how-shall-I-say preposterous.

Be that as it may. Muffy applied the eye makeup in layers of several different but carefu
chosen shades. In the olden days, sometimes she'd end up looking like a surprised raccoon
north of her nose. She's gotten more skillful since then-though like I still wouldn't want to c
the results tasteful It seemed to me that she was aiming at a kind of Monet-at-Giverny
waterlilies effect between her brows and eyelids.

The color she was, well, slathering is a good verb, was called Azul Jacinto. Muffy was
vigorously but like inexpertly blending this weird purple eye shadow with the previous
tinctorial stratum, which if I remember correctly was Caramel Smoke. They should've put a
Kids: Don't Try This At Home warning on the containers.

She goes, "Finally, finally, I've found a way to get back to Mars and my own true belove
Prince Van. And like I want to look just absolutely devastating. So be cruel, Bitsy. Tell me
what you really think. Honestly, now."

"You look terrific, sweetie," I go. Let her find out the hard way. That's what she gets for
calling me Bitsy. I've told her a million times that if she can't stand being called Muffy, I ca
stand being called Bitsy. I'm not seventeen anymore. I'm a grown-up divorced mother with
responsibilities, and I want to be treated with respect every bit as much as
Muffy-Maureen-does.

She smiled at herself in the mirror. "Great," she goes. "I'll only be a little longer." She'd
said that an hour ago.
 "Should I go out and tell the cab driver? Take him a Coke or some coffee or something?

Maureen just shrugged. "I'll give him a big tip. He'd rather have that than coffee anyway
sure. Cab drivers wait for me all the time."

"Whatever."