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Sarawat’s eyes fluttered open.
He inhaled and glanced over at the television that was still bright with commercials. He exhaled and rubbed his suddenly irritated eyes with the back of his hands.
He sat up, feet planting onto the carpet and running a hand through his hair that just fell back into his face again. A yawn slipped from his lips, and fingers came up to his jaw to mindlessly scratch along the complexion.
Then he stretched his arms high to work out his stiff neck and back. The sofa wasn’t a very comfortable place to fall asleep. Funny how he does it most weekend nights.
The clock on the messy table next to the sofa ticked 2:03 am.
Sarawat sighed and turned to the coffee table in front of him. He still had snacks sitting out from before he fell asleep hours earlier; an opened bag of potato chips and a plate with a couple of m&m cookies on it. Amongst the foods was the television remote. These various things in front of the man lead to the decision to repeat earlier events: turn up the volume on the television, and settle back against the sofa with munchies. He didn’t bother to turn on any of the lights. He just kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, popping a chip into his mouth.
“Are you home alone on Saturday night?”
The voice was buoyant, as spunky music began to play in the background. Sarawat’s chewing slowed as he looked up at the television.
“Are you snacking on stale junk food that’s been sitting out for a few hours?”
He pulled his hand out of the bag of chips.
“Perhaps what you need is a boyfriend!”
Sarawat furrowed his eyebrows, his forehead puckering. He brushed the crumbs off his shirt and sat up straight again.
The small screen flashed various pretty men and handsome guys, all in different shapes, colors, and sizes. Sarawat’s eyes widened slightly. Some of the guys wore football gear, some wore black clothes and makeup, some were showing off muscles. But they all adorned kind smiles nonetheless, and their eyes twinkled with every wink.
Then bold letters flashed on the screen. Call 1-800-BUY-A-BOYFRIEND!
Sarawat eyed at the telephone on the table next to the sofa. Then he glanced back at the television screen, watching men of all types show off convincing qualities. His eyes settled back on the telephone again. Sarawat leaned over and pulled it off the reciever. He dialed a number and held the phone close to his ear. The ringing came to a stop after a few short tones and the line on the other end picked up, a rather pleasant voice greeting him.
“Welcome to Buy a Boyfriend. How may I help you today?”
“Um, hello, yes, I’d like to buy a boyfriend,” Sarawat began.
“And what kind of boyfriend would you like?”
Sarawat opened his mouth to answer then he immediately closed it again. He tilted his head. “I… don’t know what kind of boyfriend I would like,”
“Well, we have many to choose from,” the kind and feminine voice started, “Tall boyfriends, creative boyfriends, or funny boyfriends. Bad boyfriends are very popular right now too.”
Sarawat hummed. “There’s a lot to choose from,” he sighed into the end of the phone, “I guess that doesn’t help my decision.”
“Pronouns?”
“Uh… he, him?”
“Sir, how ‘bout I make you an offer?” the voice asked. Sarawat listened close. “I will knock ten dollars off your purchase and send you a mystery box boyfriend instead.”
“A mystery box boyfriend? What’s that?”
“It’s something we only offer exclusively to indecisive customers such as yourself. We will send you a boyfriend at random, and you will not know what kind of boyfriend you get until he arrives at your doorstep.”
The infomercial continued to play on the television. Sarawat watched more guys flash on the screen. He swallowed.
“Deal.”
Then it was time to wait.
Wait time was five to seven days. At least that’s what the person said over the phone.
Sarawat teleshops often and most purchases he makes are compulsive buys, though this is the strangest yet most interesting one he’s made so far in his adult days. Whatever keeps him from wiping Cheeto hands on a white shirt at 3am again.
Almost a full week looped back around. Sarawat was done with classes for the day, and had come back home early from school with lunch on the brain. He threw his shoes and bookbag to the side and went straight to the kitchen to rummage through food items. He happily fixed himself a sandwich and took it into the living room.
The afternoon sunlight poured onto the beige sofa and coffee table that was currently stacked with magazines. Sarawat pulled one off the top and opened it, turning to a bookmarked page. Then he grabbed his sandwich and opened his mouth to take a bite.
The doorbell rang.
Sarawat glanced behind the sofa towards the door then he sighed and set both the magazine and sandwich back down. He was back on his feet again, making his way to the front door. He opened it up, the warm air and sun toasting his skin. He came face to face with a large box. It was a bit taller than himself, marked BUY A BOYFRIEND. Sarawat used his strength to pull the heavy package inside.
Once he got the box into the roomy living space, he began to tear it open. He ended up on the carpet sifting through the tape, cardboard, and clothes the boyfriend had come with to search for some sort of instruction manual. It felt like he was playing dress up with all the accessories that were scattered about the floor. Sarawat eventually found the small booklet and held it up.
“My name is Tine,” he read it aloud. Then he slowly looked up at the figure standing perfectly upright. Brown eyes, plush lips, straight figured body. A model right out of a catalog. Sarawat trailed his eyes down the figure’s pant legs. “Cool sneakers,” he complimented.
He opened the manual, which only contained a page; it demonstrated a figures backside titled, HOW TO TURN ON YOUR BOYFRIEND. It pointed to a switch on the figures’ upper back. Sarawat half smiled at the phrased wording. Easy enough. He turned the booklet to the back, only for it to be blank. He looked back up at the figure hesitantly and rose to his feet.
They were the same height, he noticed first. Sarawat tiptoed around the perfectly still figure. The figures’ skin looked so lifelike. Every mole, line, and bump.
Sarawat went to the back to find a large switch poking out of the windbreaker he sported. He reached out a hand and quickly flipped the switch to ON, then jumped back.
But nothing happened. No sound, no movement. Sarawat furrowed his eyebrows. He walked back to the front of the figure, only to notice eyes followed his every movement. Sarawat froze. He turned completely to face the figure.
“Tine?” Sarawat whispered curiously.
Tine blinked and smiled endearingly.