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As if to punctuate her final statement to me, she then kicked me in the balls so hard that I saw stars exploding and spiraling downward. I was vaguely aware of my body hitting the blacktop of the parking lot, and then there was darkness.
I remember feeling my body being handled, hearing a siren somewhere off in the background, and seeing intense flashes of light. I washed into consciousness long enough to hear someone say 'What the hell is this stuff? Send it to the lab, so we know what we’re dealing with here. And goddamn it, get that reporter out of here!'
It turned out some high school girls had walked past the motel and noticed a green thing moaning in the parking lot. They had run and called the police in near hysterics and reported that there was a strange life form, possibly a space alien, laying by the motel. The police dispatcher jokingly told the nearest patrol car to go and investigate an E.T. sighting and gave the address.
A tabloid news reporter was also tuned in to the police radio and took off like a shot. The police arrived first and determined that it was a man in a green surgical costume who seemed to be wounded, and they called for an ambulance. Before it arrived, the reporter showed up and took several snapshots of me laying curled up on the pavement. He followed the ambulance and got another snapshot of my face after I had been cleaned up.
He stayed with the story and was going to print an article about a space alien having landed but the police covering it up, until he overheard two doctors at the hospital laughing about a patient who had arrived with whale feces all over him.
The next thing I knew, the picture of my face and the picture of me laying in the parking lot were on the front page of tabloid newspapers all over the state under the screaming headline 'Bizarre Sea Creature Discovered!' The subtitle read 'Hormone-Crazed Fish-Man Thought to have Crawled 900 Miles from Ocean in Search of Mate!'
Jesus Christ, I thought. Joanna is like the gift that keeps on giving. I got fired from my job. My insurance company dropped me. My car was repossessed. I got a postcard from my parents informing me that I had been disowned. My best friend came over, took back a Grateful Dead tape he had given me as a gift, punched me in the mouth, and left. I got a notice from Forest Hills that my pre-paid burial plot had been sold to someone else.
Through it all I wondered from time to time if I should call Joanna and see if we could work things out and get back together, but in the end I didn’t, because my phone was disconnected.
At least one question had finally been answered once and for all.
The original question. 'Am I a mouse, or a man?'
And the final answer: No.
In the back of my mind, I heard Joanna’s sarcastic voice. 'You’re not up to the level of a whole mouse, but you could be, like, a mouse’s asshole.'
