BlancheMature

'Hello.' Blanche answered her phone, wondering why someone was calling so late at night.
'Hello, Blanche. Guess who?' Dear lord, she thought.
'Lovely. My only forgotton son. Dont tell me they kicked you out of school already? I wasn't expecting this call for at least a month.' She swirled the achohol around in her hand.
'Relax, Blanche. You'll spill your drink. I'm calling from my very own phone.' Her eyebrows raised. 'In the comfort of my very own apartment.'
'Your what?'
Oh no whats he done now? She thought.
'Have you lost your mind, Jones?' She walked around her kitchen.
'If there is one person in this world who cannot take care of themselves, its you. Do you hear me?'
'No, you're right. I've been interviewing help all week and I'm leaning towards this beautiful young asain girl.' He lied. 'Shes an expert in massages.'
'I knew it. All those prep schools turned you into a little sex monster. Didn't they?' She took a swig of her drink.
'Blanche, I called to ask you something.'
'Oh god, here we go.'
'I'm going to need a copy of my birth certificate. For the school.'
'Yeah I bet. Well have the school get in touch with me then.' She wasn't believing him.
'I have a right, Blanche.'
'For Christs sake, Jones. Couldn't we just have a convorsation where you dont dig up all the footnotes of your ancestry?' She poured more liquid into her glass.
'What if I called your father a footnote?' He lay down on the floor.
'Yeah. Well, just don't call him an overmanipulative son of a bitch. I'd hate for us to agree on something.'
'I think my own father would like to know where I am, what I'm doing.' He was getting angry now.
'Its late, Jones. You probably have school tomorrow... Jones?' He held the phone just above the base. He put it down when he heard Blanche say, 'Son of a'
Jones slowly fell asleep.

The End

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