A Day In The Life Of the Former Mrs. Louis C.K.

Previously: A Day in the Life of Dr. Oz

“We’ll be there for forty-five minutes, tops,” Derek had said. “I just promised Angela we would come by. I’m sorry. I really am. But I swear it won’t be that bad.”

Alix had rolled her eyes at him. “My one night out this whole week.”

“I knooow,” Derek had groaned happily. “I’m awful, doing this to you. I’ll buy you a diamond.”

“Derek.”

“Ruby diamonds. Ten of ’em.”

“Just promise me you won’t leave me alone with these people.”

Derek smiled. “Gold diamonds.”

She braced herself. Smiled at the rearview mirror. Smoothed down the front of her skirt. “They’re not going to be weird about it, right?”

Derek kept smiling.

“Oh my God,” the young woman said.

Derek was already running into the kitchen, the door swinging behind him, releasing a wobbling crescent of light into the living room every few seconds. Fuck you, Derek, she thought helplessly, then directed a bright smile onto the girl’s upturned face.

“Oh my God,” the girl said, “you were married to Louis C.K.? Like, the Louis C.K., from Louie?”

“Yeah,” Alix said, smile still bright.

“Danny. Danny. Danny. Danny,” the girl repeated loudly to a young man in glasses–presumably christened Danny–a few feet away. “Danny,” she said proudly when he turned to join them, “this is Alice. Alix. From Louis C.K. She married him. She’s the ex-wife.”

“Oh, my God,” Danny said. “You have to talk to us. I swear to God, you have to promise you won’t talk to anyone else all night.”

Smile a little less bright now.

The girl spread her hands wide. “I think he’s a genius.” Was she wearing false eyelashes? Did this girl put on a set of false eyelashes to go to a house party? That was insane. Right? That was insane? It had been a while since Alix had gotten to go out on the weekends, but did women (girls, her mind hissed) really put on false eyelashes to go to a party in someone’s living room on a Friday night?

“Yeah, it’s great, how many people support his work. I’m actually only in the city right now for a few weeks working on s–”

Danny, who had been nodding his head and murmuring “uh-huh” at every third or fourth word of Alix’s, sat on the top of the sofa and said: “He’s an actual genius, like da Vinci, you know?”

“I–”

“An actual genius.”

“I think he’s really brave,” the girl said. Danny nodded again.

“Really brave. Because he talks about how unfuckable he is–”

“And that’s what makes him fuckable,” Danny finished for her.

“Right. That’s what makes him so fuckable.”

“Really glad you guys like his work,” Alix said vaguely, trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible. “So what do you do?”

“No disrespect,” the girl said, putting down her wineglass and leaning in conspiratorially, “no disrespect, but if he ever married me, I would NEVER divorce him. Ever. I would fuck him all the time.”

“Oh,” Alix said, looking around and catching Derek’s gaze, who raised a bottle in her direction and winked. Fuck yourself with ten…with ten fucks, Derek, she thought helplessly. “Well, you know, sometimes things just don’t work out.”

“He just seems like such a good dad,” the girl continued. She tipped her wineglass back and drained it. “I don’t know if you watch the show–do you watch the show?–but he is, like, crazy about his little girls. He’s such a good dad.”

Danny nodded. He was a real nodder, this Danny. “Such a good dad,” he echoed. “You can tell because he’s always talking about what a good dad he is.”

“Such a good dad,” the girl said. Alix couldn’t remember her name. She was just The Girl, like a character in an Ingmar Bergman film. Did she have a home? Did she have a job? Or did she just melt in and out of existence in this living room whenever parties were winding down?

“Yeah,” Alix said. This was safer. Dad stuff was safer.

Danny tilted his head. “Was it weird,” he said, then tilted his head in the opposite direction. “Was it weird when he talked about how gross he was getting while you guys were still married?”

“How gross he thought he was getting,” the girl corrected him. “He thinks he’s gross, but that’s what makes him hot. In a gross way.”

“Right,” Danny said. “But when he talked about how he was too gross to fuck, and then that just made him want to get grosser and all. Was that weird? Because you were still married?”

“Mmm,” Alix said.

“Is it true that you, like, never had sex with him?” the girl asked.

“I–”

“Because that sad handjob story was like, really sad.”

Alix made a sound that never quite finished making its way out of her throat.

“I think you should have been nicer about it.”

“Okay, well–”

“The handjob.”

“Right.”

“Nicer about that handjob you gave him.”

“Right, I see what you mean.”

“Like, he already felt really bad, about being so gross. And none of those girls he talked about wanting to fuck would fuck him. So I really think you could have been nicer when you gave him the handjob.”

Danny, still in a continuous state of nodding, nodded again.

“I’m really not comfortable discussing this.”

“That’s really interesting,” the girl said. “Is that why you guys split up? Because Louis seems like he’s comfortable talking about anything.”

“That’s why I think he’s so brave,” Danny added.

“Oh my God, so brave,” the girl said.

“Well,” Alix said.

“That’s just what I think.” The girl grabbed a handful of crackers off of the plate. “That’s just what I think.”

“I should go,” Alix said, putting down her glass and wiping her lips. “I should go check on the kids.”

“I thought Louis had them on Friday nights?” Danny said.

“Yeah, I thought Louis had them on the weekends. He has them on the weekends on the show. Do you watch the show?

[Image via Wikimedia Commons]