Pineapple Upside Down Cake (2005)
“Pineapple Upside Down Cake” is a collaboration with the visual artist Bridget Gannon. Please download the PDF for the full experience.
My workboot’s lace was untied, the length of cheap string snaking across the tile floor and touching the base of the toilet.
We lifted the heavy porcelain bowl straight up until its bottom lip cleared the two thick screws protruding out of the floor. Stumbling, our bodies bent, we carried the toilet past the newly-exposed opening and set it down softly on a folded tarp.
I sat down on the edge of the bathtub and ran my palms up and down the thighs of my ragged jeans. Yawning, I wiped my mouth with the back of my forearm. “Definitely?”
“Oh yeah,” Jim kicked at the brown ring that surrounded the hole and the upright screws. Flakes of sealant scattered across the floor. “Look at it, it’s all dry and brittle.”
I scowled down at the space between my boots, my chin in my hand.
“Tell you what,” Jim shrugged. “Let me take care of this, and you get the baseboard in the next room we paint so’s I can rest my back.”
“You sure? This job’s nasty.”
“Look, it’s us against the Man, brother—we got to stick together,” Jim dropped into a crouch and started poking away at the dried seal. “It does smell a bit, don’t it?”
“And a little old lady like this.”
“They stink the worst.” Jim was smiling as he yanked a dirty rag out of his back pocket and wiped down the area around the opening.
Using his bare hands, he gathered the remaining crumbled chunks of the old brown seal and pushed the small pile into the corner of the bathroom.
“Why’re you in such a good mood? You’re literally working in shit—from some old Republican bitch, too— and Ray’s got the easy work fixing that shelf.” I sat up, my hands on my thighs. “Hell, I’m surprised we can’t hear him singing or laughing to himself.”
“Yeah, but look, brother, when the boss drops us off at some old bitch’s empty apartment and gives us the whole afternoon for a couple easy jobs—you got to enjoy your freedom while you can.” Jim pulled a plastic bag out of the plumbing box by his knee. “Besides, you can always wash your hands, remember that. So long as you can wash your hands you’re okay—when you start doing a Lady Macbeth, then you got to worry.” Still smiling, he ripped the packaging away from the fresh O-ring. The new seal was white and waxy, and it stuck to his hands.
“I’ll tell you why I’m so happy, though.” Jim carefully fit the circular O-ring down over the hole, the protruding screws jutting up through two perforations in the wax. “I’m getting out of this bullshit maintenance game—I been teaching myself how to be a tailor.” He nodded and worked the seal into a tight fit with the tile floor, his experienced fingers applying firm pressure around the circle. “I got myself this old sewing machine, been working on it nights for a couple years now.”
“No shit?” I scratched at some flakes of paint on my boot. “I wouldn’t have put that one on you.”
“Yeah, I’m buying up all the vintage fabric I can find, and I’m starting to make some nice shit.” Jim pushed himself up off the floor. He stood back and admired his handiwork. “Soon as I get enough shit made, I’m heading down to Key West to sell it on the beach to all them rich broads.” He turned to me. “I’m done working with asshole landlords, I’ll tell you that right now.”
Jim took his glasses off his face and cleaned them with his filthy shirttail. “Them cocksuckers are always trying to bury you in a pile of bullshit—brother, a man just can’t live like that.”
There was a loud thump from elsewhere in the apartment. Ray swore loudly and a metal hammer clattered to the floor. I closed my eyes and shook my head.
“One of the first really good things that I made were these pants,” Jim chuckled. “They aren’t for sale, though, I’m keeping them in case I meet Mick Jagger—I saw this fabric and all I could think about was Mick, just amazing material, red and silver stripes.”
“Mick Jagger’s real small, right?” I dragged myself away from the edge of the tub and stood next to the displaced toilet. Jim took his spot on the other side.
“Yeah, that’s the other reason why I made the pants for him.” Jim started laughing again. I bent down, my arms reaching under the bowl. Jim hitched up his pants and got into a posture that mirrored mine. “I could only find a little bunch of that striped shit.”
“Smart man,” I grunted and started to lift my half of the toilet.
Jim slowly strained, his side lifting up a couple inches off the tarp. He spoke through gritted teeth. “That’s one thing I ain’t.” We wobbled back across the bathroom, carefully positioning ourselves around the hole. Bending gently, we slipped the lower lip of the toilet over the upright screws and set it down on the floor. A small bead of white grease squashed out around the edge of the base.
Ray stuck his head around the door frame, a cigarette between his fingers, the rest of his body hidden. A cherubic smile lit up his fat face, his shaved and balding head covered with stubble the same length as on his jaw. Pudgy cheeks nearly concealed his beady eyes and a streak of white plaster stretched across his chin.
“Check it out, dawgs.” He slid into the middle of the doorway, arms braced on either side of the frame. He was wearing only a pair of disintegrating red sweatshorts, his firm, hairy belly hanging over the ragged waistband. Spots of white paint covered his entire upper body, dotted his lower legs, and even speckled his bare feet.
I used my fingers to spin a couple nuts down over the screws, fastening the toilet against the tiles, my shaggy hair spilling over my eyes.
“Ray, that’s just wrong, brother,” Jim tossed the channel locks onto the floor next to me. “It’s disgusting, too.”
I reached for the heavy pliers and looked up. Dangling from each of Ray’s pierced nipples was a pearl suspended from a gold earring. He shook his drooping chest playfully, the pearls bouncing against his skin.
“I found these bitches on the shelf,” Ray sucked on his cigarette and cackled happily. “I don’t give a shit, I’m keeping ‘em.” I clamped the steel mouth of the channel locks around the last nut and pulled it tight.
