Christopher Sebela

writer, wronger, rearranger


In March, Kooluris’ fiancée gave him back the engagement ring. He hid it somewhere in the arcade; he won’t tell me exactly where. He moved out of her Brooklyn place and back to his old bachelor pad—only, of course, he’d sold the bed and turned the bedroom into an arcade. “This is not where I wanted to end up, just living in an arcade,” he says. One day when his ex came over to see the finished project, he showed her that he was sleeping on a convertible sofa bed with a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bedspread. “Well, at least I don’t need to worry that this room will ever get another woman wet,” is how he recalls her reaction. (Kooluris’ ex-fiancée declined to participate in this story.)

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