Micrograffiti: TYPE by Matthew Stuart15/09/2010
Once I knew Binter, a misguided bodybuilder who stacked his body one part at a time. By year one his biceps were named Hulk Hogan and Macho Man Randy Savage. The rest of him looked like the rest of us. He moved down arm to brachioradialis, his upper forearm, first right, then left.
He was a type, Binter. Probably for girls. Or to kill us, on account of having threatened to. Binter, who went by Gambit even though nobody called him that and got Gambit tattooed big on his formidable right brachioradialis by year two, and when we kept calling him Binter anyway, threatened to break our nuts and more.
By year three one girl called him Gambit—this girl my type, that type being the only girl I knew who reminded me of Kim Gordon—while the rest of us burrowed like wolf spiders aiming to snipe him. So we were rivals, Binter and I.
By year four Binter got so sick Kim Gordon cried and became less my type, and when Binter got sicker and sickness had to take his legs, he came back muscling a chair on wheels and everybody took to calling him Gambit like he wanted, except me. Because rivalry, and because it was what he wanted.
Later it took the rest of him, sickness, and when the rest of them spoke of Gambit, I corrected them—Binter. I said, I remember when he did that—Binter—when he named the biceps. Binter.
I said that to boss the rivalry. And because I guess that’s the type that I am.
Matthew Stuart’s fiction and artwork can be found at www.matthewdstuart.com.