"We'll see" can be two of the cruelest words in the english language, given the right situation. Like if you lay it all out for someone -- every hope & dream you have for the future -- and they throw it back in your face.

     Which is what I did to my boyfriend Adam.

The two of us were lying in bed, watching the latest Kodak Sunset(TM) on his wall, his hand resting on my thigh. He ran his palm over my knee and said, "One of these days, Mimi, we should move in together."

And I could feel my face go like stone. I couldn't make eye contact. I felt horrible about it, but I mean, he'd put me on the spot. And I blurted it out:

"We'll see."

And I knew everything was screwed.

See, my thing is this. I'm always on the lookout for clues my body gives me about my unconscious desires, like when I say things my brain doesn't know I'm gonna say. Things like "We'll see," which really means, "Fuck that ." And yet...

And yet, who wouldn't wanna marry Adam, have a bunch of kids or whatever? He's a great guy -- caring, supportive, good-looking, and financially solvent. What's wrong with me? I thought he was everything I wanted...

     But I guess I was wrong.

     Adam, typically, didn't seem to notice or care what I'd said. Instead, he nudged me in the ribs. "Hey. What's green and invisible?"

     "Huh..what?"

     "I said, what's green and invisible."

     I wasn't in the mood for jokes. "I don't know, what's green and invisible?"

     Adam grinned. "No cucumbers!"

     I climbed out of bed, reaching for my clothes.

     "Hey, what's wrong?"

     " That's the joke? No cucumbers? That doesn't even make sense."

     "Sure it does. It's kind of like a quantum physics, Euclidean kind of thing. The cucumbers are in a simultaneous state of being and non-being..."

     "In that case, you should have said `What's green and non-existent?'"

     "Well, that's not as funny, is it?"

     "It's not funny either way."

     "Only if you don't have a sense of humor ..."

I slammed the door extra-hard on my way out.

     "Hey, it's just a joke!" Adam called from the window.

*      *      *

The problem , I realized, as I walked into Joker -- musty, brown, inviting, the music of clinking glasses a soothing tonic for my frazzled nerves -- the problem is that I've spent so long playing the part of Adam's girlfriend, laughing at his jokes even when they aren't funny, that I don't know who I am any more. And if I don't know myself, how can I ever truly be happy?

"Vodka martini, dirty," I told the bartender. "No, wait -- gin & tonic. Yeah. With a lot of lime. That's what I want."

And why shouldn't I have what I want, instead of what I always get?

I downed my drink, feeling it blossom into fire in my stomach, and a soft voice over my shoulder said "Hi." I turned to see a cute guy in a fuzzy sweater.

"Whatcha drinkin'?" he asked.

     "Alcohol," I said.

     He laughed and clinked his glass to mine. "Sounds good. L'chaim."

     Here we go, I thought. Time to put on a show. Clever banter. Get to know this guy a little...God, fuck that! Tonight, I cut loose my other self -- get to know her better.

     "Listen, you wanna be my date tonight?" I said, feeling the fire in my stomach growing. "Here's the rules. I wanna go see a chick flick. Not an action film or anything with a superhero in it. I wanna see something starring Tracy Lee Brooks, filled with people talking about their feelings . I wanna say and do whatever I please, without worrying about overshadowing some male's fragile ego. And I don't wanna laugh at any dumb jokes, especially not ones that start with WHAT'S GREEN AND INVISIBLE."

     "Okay," he shrugged.

     "Okay?"

     "Okay," he said. "Let's go."

     "Great. What's your name, motormouth?"

     "Sinclair."

     "Then pay the man, Sinclair," I said, slamming my glass down on the bar, "so we can blow this joint."

     And that's how I started dating two guys at once.

     Yeah, I know. I shoulda dumped Adam, but, honestly...I was scared to fuck up. Not that I was second-guessing myself; I was simply protecting myself from changing my mind, in case I decided to change it back.

That's the kind of thing you do when you don't know what you want.

Not that it was particularly convenient, mind you. For instance: Adam was brunette, Sinclair was blond. So every time Sinclair spent the night, I'd have to clean the pillows & sheets with a lint brush before I could have Adam over. Every time! I mean, I had to do it -- I didn't want them to find a hair that didn't belong to them, and get hurt. I was looking out for their feelings. I'm a nice person that way.

Still, I was getting tired of lint brushes.

As someone awesome once said, "things fall apart; the centre will not hold." I think he was talking about the end of the world, but he could also have been talking about me dating two guys. I couldn't break up with either of them, but I also couldn't keep lint-brushing everything forever; the centre would not hold. In the end, I decided there was really only one thing to do that made any sense at all...

     So I had myself cloned.

*       *       *

"Yes," said Dr. Blum, a little man with skeletal hands and John Lennon glasses. "Yes, yes, yes! She will have your memories, she will have your spirit. In every way she will be another you. Now step into the Cloning Chamber, please, and then report to the Waiting Room. We are having a special today: your clone is ready in fifteen minutes or less, or it's half off."

     Fourteen minutes and thirty seconds later, my clone walked into the Waiting Room. For a second, I felt the strangest sense of disconnection -- seeing myself in one place but being in another -- and on the heels of that, a swelling sense of pride:

Wow, no wonder all the boys like me ... I'm hot as shit. Yay me!

The other Mimi saw me and waved, excited.

 In the car, we couldn't stop grinning at each other.

"This is kinda weird, huh?"

"Yeah," Mimi-2 said. "But also kinda awesome."

I realized I was eyeballing her. "I'm sorry for staring, it's just..."

"No, I feel the same way. It's like having an out-of-body experience."

"I know, totally."

"Totally."

"Kind of cool, though. Seeing my face from a new perspective."

"Yeah...we're kinda hot, huh?"

" Totally !"

We both laughed, and it created a weird Doppler effect that hurt my ears a little.

Back at my place, we sat down over drinks to hammer out the plan. The basics were simple: we'd split the money in our bank accounts, get separate apartments, and do alternate days at work. (Awesome.) Last but not least, in order to decide which one of us got which boy, we flipped a coin. And as it tumbled in the air, a thought suddenly bolted into my mind:

Please, let me get Sinclair.

I smacked the coin down onto the back of my hand, and we peered at it. Lady Luck had smiled on me: Mimi-2 was stuck with Adam.

"Oh goody!" Mimi-2 said, with a handclap that reminded me of my Cheerleading days.

"That's okay with you?"

"Of course it is!" she leaned in close, her hair brushing my cheek as she checked my watch. "Shit, I'd better get a move on if I'm gonna find an apartment!"

I watched her practically dance out the door. And I gotta be honest: it gave me a weird feeling...

What does she know that I don't?

     I was in a bad mood the rest of the day. Even going over to Sinclair's and watching Sleepless in Seattle (my choice, of course, far be it from him to actually suggest anything) didn't help; I felt boxed in, caged; after the movie, I made some calls and found out about a party in Silverlake. A few minutes later, I got a call from my house line. It was Mimi-2, sounding tired.

     "I'm wiped out from apartment hunting. Is it okay if I crash here tonight?"

     "No problem, I'll just stay at Sinclair's."

     "Awesome. Tra-la!"

     I hung up, but I didn't feel tra-la. Not tra-la at all.

I stomped into Sinclair's room. "I'm going out," I announced. "To a party."

"Okay," Sinclair said, without looking up from his 1500-piece Lonelygirl15 puzzle. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No."

  "Okay," he shrugged.

     "Jesus, why is everything always okay with you? You're driving me nuts!"

     "Okay, so do you want me to come, then?"

     "No!"

     "Okay."

     I slammed the door extra-hard on my way out.

     "Don't drink too much!" Sinclair called from the window.

*      *      *

The party was pretty sweet. The Spice Girls reunion concert was being projected on a two-wall transmat; people were laughing and singing along and having a good time. I was one of them. After being cooped up in a stuffy flat with the Incredible Living Dead Boy, it was like I could breathe again.

I approached a happy-looking group. They were circled around a bald, cherub-fat man who was telling a joke, of which I only caught the punchline:

"Ya got any GRAPES ?"

Everyone roared. It didn't make much sense to me, of course, but I laughed anyway, what the heck. "Hey, I know a joke," I said, and heads swiveled in my direction. "What's green and invisible?"

Everyone shrugged.

"No cucumbers," I said.

     And everyone roared again! I smiled. It really wasn't so bad after all, Adam's joke...

Adam .

Hmm.

     I doodled over to the drink table, wondering again why Mimi-2 would be happier with Adam than Sinclair.

     What does she know that I don't?

     I had a drink, then I started to feel bad -- what was I thinking? Just ONE drink? It didn't seem very kind of me to let it languish in my stomach all alone. So I mixed another and sent it to keep the first one company. The room began wavering a little, as if it wanted to kick off its shoes and dance...

     I wonder what he's doing right now, I thought.

     Another drink seemed like a good idea. Luckily, I found one. Shortly following, it went to join its friends.

     I wonder if he's horny.

The room was beginning to jitterbug now. I could feel the drinks in my stomach. They were having quite a little party down there. I felt good for what I'd done, giving that first lonely drink so many friends to keep it company. I felt magnificent, in fact. I'd done my good deed for the day, and I deserved a reward.

Perhaps another drink? said my brain.

"Brilliant idea. Fuckin' brilliant me." said I, mixing myself another dirty martini...

     Suddenly I didn't feel so brilliant, though. Because my clone was having a better time than me. That was for sure. Here I was drinking alone, and she was off having the time of her life with Adam...

     Wait! Except she's not, is she?

     She was crashed out for the night.

     Hmmm.

     This much I knew: what I was considering wasn't exactly cheating. After all, I was still dating Adam. Kinda.

     It couldn't hurt to pop in on him... just see how he's doing...I wouldn't try to sleep with him or anything...

     Anyway, you can see where this is going. I took a cab over to Adam's house, threw him in bed, and fucked the shit out of him.

     Now why would I do that, you ask?

     And I'll tell you:

     I have no fucking idea.

*      *      *

The next day, Mimi-2 came back from apartment hunting, walked into my place, mixed up a gin & tonic, and promptly threw it in my face.

"What the hell!? Are you crazy!?"

It turned out that she'd gone to Adam's that morning and found one of my hairs in his bed. "I didn't go apartment hunting yesterday -- I went to Adam's and washed the sheets, so I know it wasn't mine. You should have used a lint brush."

Shit.

"Hey, he is our boyfriend," I said, as a stalling tactic.

     "Not any more. You want him, he's yours. I'm taking Sinclair."

     "Wait a second..."

     Why hadn't she gone apartment hunting? Why had she washed Adam's sheets, unless it was to...

     Her eyes sparkled, like mine do when I'm happy with a secret.

     "You planned this. You planned this! You reverse-psychologied me into going after Adam because you wanted Sinclair! Didn't you?"

     She laughed. "You know me too well."    

     The world took on a tinge of red. Who cared about cheating on Sinclair, Adam, whoever? "You double-crossing bitch," I said, "you double-crossed ME!"

     "You cheated on me," she said, with a smirk I suddenly wanted to wipe off that kewpie-doll face.

     "You set me up to do it!"

     "Can I help it if you're so predictable?"

     Red flooded the world now. It lifted me up and carried me across the room; drove my hand across her cheek with a sharp CRACK!

     Which she returned in kind; a stinging slap to my face, her eyes blazing --

     And then, somehow --

     Suddenly --

     -- We were slamming together, my lips crushing hers, hers crushing mine. Tongues attacking each other. My hands, tearing at her dress, hers ripping off my panties, the two of us collapsing to the floor as one --

     Weird -- touching myself without feeling myself touching me -- oh -- is that what my breasts feel like from this angle? -- Oh -- and that's what my tongue feels like when it...when it...

OH

*      *      *

And now, we lie here in bed, her & I, stroking each other's naked bodies. Our body. Its familiar peaks and valleys. The safety of no surprise.

You know what you want.

My fingers trace her nipple; my palm cups her/my/our breast.

What you've always wanted.

"Mimi," I say, snuggling up against myself, "I don't want any one else, ever. Forget Adam. Forget Sinclair. It's you and me. Together. Alone. How perfect."

Now. Now, finally.

I can finally get to know myself.

My clone turns to me, slowly, and her face is like stone. Her eyes have a faraway look in them. It's a look that I know too well.

     And she says, "We'll see..."

The End

Bonus: Round Trip