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The Tupperware Voicemails

Dolores was her name. Spanish for pain (in the ass). She wasn't supposed to stay with us for long but since she was my roommate's coworker and my roommate being the kindest of us two, she ate Dolores' pain and offered her to crash at our studio apartment floor. And I literally mean the floor. We had no beds and thanks to Boner's genius idea of testing the durableness of our inflatable sofa with his ass-pocket full of explorer keys, we also had no sofa. We only had sleeping bags and layers of sabanas and blankets.

The day--about the 85th day to be exact--of Dolores' stay--rent free-- I and my roommate agreed that Dolores either had to pay or had to go. When Dolores came that night, she heard our woes and agreed to pay. The next morning Dolores was gone. Along with all of our Tupperware. Every single expensive neon green, pink, and yellow Tupperware, proudly bought by my and my roommate's matriarchs; the Tupperware we took as mementos from home, as a jab to our mothers for all the mean and horrible All-I-ever-did-was-love-you guilt trip they gave us on the day we announced we were moving out of our homes. All of it, gone.

I grabbed my flip phone, dialed Dolores' number and when I got to the beep, I yelled "Why the Tupperware! You didn't need to take that! You know those weren't yours! After all we've done for you!" and slammed my phone shut.

I looked at the exposed empty cabinets. I felt my heart jump to my throat and I jumped onto the counter to have a better look at the top of the cabinets. It was gone. My dessert Tupperware was gone.  I called her again. Hi this is Dolores. Leave your message after the beep. "I hate you! I can't believe you also took the jello mold Tupperware. You said you hated jello!" SLAM.

I still had more to say so I called her again. Hi, this is Dolores. Beep. "You bitch!"

Immediately after my third message, I felt remorse. Poor Dolores. Per my roommate, Dolores suffered at home by her bickering mom, suffered alone because she had no friends. Her high-school sweetheart had recently broken up with her. What if she intended to sell the Tupperware for money?

Hi, this is Dolores. Sorry I missed your call. Please leave your message and I'll call you back. Beep. "Dolores, I'm sorry. I hope you're ok. If you can, you can drop off the Tupperware wherever-- let me know where-- and I can pick them up. No worries."


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