The Gloved Wonder

It's hard to listen to Nine Inch Nails without remembering The Gloved Wonder. I spent a good portion of the weekend doing both.

The Gloved Wonder was the name Mom gave him, because he always wore black leather gloves. Mom hated him. He was the sort of gorgeous, troubled boy that moms take one look at and instantly know that their daughters are about to be defiled physically as well as emotionally.

The Gloved Wonder was a musician, and the fun thing about dating musicians is that they sometimes write songs about you. The Gloved Wonder wrote a scary, pornographic little ditty about being obsessed with me. Naturally, I loved it. The Gloved Wonder sometimes forgot that he wasn't actually Trent Reznor.

The Gloved Wonder liked to have sex with underage girls, which is why I showed up at his apartment one day and dumped him in a most dramatic fashion. He did not want to be dumped, and illustrated that point by calling me. A lot. I came home one day and Mom, sighing, played me a series of messages he'd left on the answering machine.

"Is The Gloved Wonder ever going to stop leaving Nine Inch Nails songs on the machine?" she asked.

"Someday Mom," I said. "Someday."