The Solar Powered Genie Lamp

Adrain is doing the post-breakup clean up. Jenny took her belongings with her when she left, but there’s always things that linger— bobby pins, an Urban Outfitters shopping bag with shoes, the pair of pyjamas balled in the bottom drawer that still hold her scent. He starts piling everything on the living room floor, so he can shove it all down the garbage chute in one go.

There’s a lot of dresses. She was always buying cheap dresses that she wore once and then pushed to the back of the closet, forgot about. Drove Adrian nuts. Tipping his head back, he drains his wine glass again. Setting it down hard on the floor, he begins gathers everything up in his arms— one trip to the chute, one big push, and all traces of Jenny would be gone from his life. Dress arms and skinny belts dangle from the pile. A bamboo hairbrush slides out and clatters on the floor.

“Oh come on…” Adrain mutters. He bends down to pick it up— determined to get this over with in one trip. There’s a loud clatter as something heavy escapes from the mound, smashing his foot before rolling onto the floor with a thunk.

“For the love of!” Probably a stupid candle. He flings down the Jenny Pile in defeat, ready to curse out the candle that crushed his toes.

It’s not a candle— in fact, Adrian’s not sure what it is. He knows what it looks like. It looks like an oil lamp straight out of Aladdin, laying on the floor of his bachelor apartment. Except for the cord coming out the end of it and some cheap plastic rectangles along the edges. Yet another idiotic purchase. He picks it up and throws it at the wall. Piece of junk. It cracks instantly and falls to the floor. Aladdin’s lamp is made out of plastic.

“Typical,” he says out loud. Strange that it felt so heavy on his foot though, he thinks. There must be more garbage inside it. As Adrain picks it up he realizes the cheap plastic rectangles are solar panels, and the cord leads to a battery pack. It’s a solar-panelled genie lamp. He almost laughs.

“God, that’s dumb,” he says and shoves his fingers in the zig-zag crack in the plastic, wrenching it open. A massive cloud of purple smoke shoots out of the lamp with such force that Adrain drops it and stumbles backwards, landing on his behind and knocking over the empty wine glass. Smoke continues to pour out of the lamp silently, filling the small apartment. Adrian coughs instinctively, covering his face. Then he hears the voice.

“What’s your problem?” 

Adrian’s heart stops for a split second, then starts up double time.

“I said, what’s your problem?” The voice was deep and impatient. The questions seemed rhetorical. Adrian slowly pulled his arm back from his face. There was a Genie in his apartment. A Genie that looks like the meanest bouncer at the hottest club in town. Purple-gray colour and half transparent, he had a shaved head, gigantic biceps, and a too-tight black t-shirt. He even wearing sunglasses.

“Nothing, nothing.”

He surveyed the room with Jenny’s stuff scattered across the floor and an empty wine bottle on the table. “Doesn’t look like the to me. You’re aggressive, confrontational, and slurring your words.”

“Er. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you find a lamp. I mean, not exactly throw it. But you know, man.”

The genies massive arms remained crossed. There was a tattoo on his peck. Adrain couldn’t see where it started, but multiple inky serpentine ends curled around the edges of his shoulder.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” asked the Genie.

“Two glasses,” he said quickly. “Three.”

The genie waited.

“Plus one while I was cooking, of course.”

“Mmm,” said the Genie. A clipboard floated up out of the lamp and bounced int he air in front of him.  A velvet rope appeared around the opening to the lamp.  It occurred to Adrain that yes, perhaps he had too much wine.

“So what’s your problem.”

“Nothing!” Adrian said, “Absolutely nothing.” 

“I asked you,” said the Genie, “what your problem is.”

“Nothing!!” Adrain shouted.

The genie's colour appeared to fade for a moment, becoming even more translucent as he grew to the size of Adrian’s tiny apartment, covering his futon and the Jenny Pile like smoke.

 It occurred to Adrain that if he were to mysteriously disappear Jenny wouldn’t come looking for him anymore. He was supposed to call his mother in South Carolina on Sunday. Perhaps once he missed that call, she would come. Though he had been known to avoid their calls in the past, so it could take longer.

Growing opaque again, the genie directed his eyes to the floating clipboard.

“Hey,” he said, flat and annoyed—the voice of someone reading a rote script they had no hand in composing. “I am a Genie. I will solve one problem of your choosing. It will be permanently resolved. It cannot be reversed, modified, or otherwise altered. We do not solve problems with violence (i.e. if Morty is your problem, he will not be murdered) and we will not alter time or the existence of life (i.e Morty will not be turned back into a child before he became an insufferable jerk, or “never born.”) You have no input into how the problem will be resolved, it is entirely at the discretion of the Genie.”

“They had us modernize,” he added, cracking his knuckles. “More impact-focused. Leaves us less open to litigation, too.” A piece of paper drifted down from the clipboard.

“Genie Feedback Survey,” it said. 

“What happened to three wishes?”

“Seriously? We haven’t done the three wishes routine since the early 90s.” 

“Oh.” he said. 

“So? What’s your problem.”

“Er,” said Adrain.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ve got other problems to solve. What, are you afraid of being judged by a freaking Genie?”

Adrain cleared his throat so his voice wouldn’t crack. “I’m uh, lonely,” Adrain said, looking at the floor. “That’s my problem.” He looked the Genie directly in the eyes so he would seem less embarrassed. The Genie didn’t bat an eye.

“You want your girlfriend back?”

“No, I was lonely with her too.”

“Ah,” said the Genie. 

Pinching the velvet rope between with his massive fingers, the Genie authoritatively lifts the rope in front of the lamp entrance and clips it to the side. 

“Right this way,” he said, tipping his sunglasses back on his head. "Let’s go help some people. And don’t forget the feedback form.”