"Versatile" - NYC Midnight 250-word Flash Fiction contest 2021

Assignment: comedy, loading a dishwasher, option

"Versatile" 

Plates on bottom. Glasses on top.

Kellie watched from the barstool at the island, then drained her wineglass and parked it on the granite. “Here, Lou, cram it in,” she winked.

“I don’t wash stemware in there.”

She snorted and made ‘gimme’ gestures, so I scooted the bottle over with soapy hands.

“Everything else, though. If I could wash the kids in the dishwasher, I would.” I rattled a lingerie bag of Legos to illustrate. Top rack.

“Try!”

“Not an option.”

“Got a joke,” she winked, refilling. “My husband told me he put a load in the dishwasher. I thought ‘finally,’ until the housekeeper sued for child support.”

I wrinkled my nose. “That’s vile.” Dog bone, bottom rack.

“’Nother one. How d’ya know it’s time to replace the dishwasher? The old one starts asking you to do your share.”

I snorted. “How are you not a guy?”

Kellie winked. “I play one on TV.” She leaned confidentially. “I do wash my boyfriend in the dishwasher.”

I blinked at her.

She mugged at me lecherously.

“Wait – oh! You do not.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Ewwwww.”

“Is that worse than dog slobber? Wait, thought experiment: do you put the spoons Vince uses in the dishwasher?”

“Obviously!”

She batted her lashes. “It’s the same.”

“It’s not the same. Also, I’m never eating at your house again.”

“Too late, betch.” She ran her tongue around the wineglass’ rim. “So what are we doing tonight?”

Asking for that foursome suddenly felt too scripted. “Game night!”