Du Merde Se Trouve
A two-man dialogue
(c) 1993 Utopium Enterprizes / Fools' Press
"Man, my life sucks."
"Too bad, but I don't get paid to listen to people's problems."
"No, you get paid to serve them drinks. Speaking of which..."
"Another scotch?"
"Yep. I may be a stinking, moping drunk, but at least I am faithful."
"OK, I give. What are you moping over?"
"Lots of things. Just saw a girl I knew back in junior high. She still thinks I am toady."
"Hey, what can be said? She's not your type if she doesn't like you. Besides, how old are you? Twenty-one? Twenty-two?"
"Twenty-six, and freshly graduated."
"Master's?"
"Bachelor's. Comp sci."
"Ah. Still, you're young. Give it time, you'll find someone."
"No, I won't. I'm too fucked up."
"Gah, what a loser."
"You noticed?"
"You adverise it on a damn highway billboard. In neon green. Hey, I am just trying to get you to see something. It's ugly watching someone who's whipping himself. Nobody wants to deal with it, capiche?"
"Yeah, yeah, that's what my last three therapists said."
"OK, fine. Tell me why you think you are such a damn loser."
"You know that girl I told you about?"
"Yeah?"
"Thinking about her... damn my glass is empty."
"That's another two bucks."
"Here. Now... um... oh, yeah. Her. I started thinking about junior high again. That was wretched beyond belief."
"Hey, make that stuff last, I only got a bit left up front."
"You know what really got to me about junior high? My science fair project."
"Huh?"
"Yeah. Sure, the jocks beat me up, the cool girls teased me to death, the teachers thought I was scum... But nothing messed me up like that project."
"Uh, ok... I'll take your word for it."
"I mean, I busted ass on that thing for a whole month. I really put a lot of energy into it. It was scientific, and took more energy than sticking a few damn navy beans into a pot of dirt. I took pictures. I kept a diary of the whole thing. I was careful the whole time to make sure everything was good. And I got expelled for it. Damn kids laughed at me. Called me 'shithead'. Ha. Very fucking funny. Can you imagine everyone, even nerds, calling you 'shithead' for two years straight?"
"Bummer... hey, I gotta tend this customer. I'll be right back, ok?"
"Yeah, whatever. I'll just work on my drink. Gah. Maybe you are right. Here I am, twenty-six and still bothered by things that happened... um... thirteen years ago. I probably should just get on with my life. Hell, I've been working on my degree for too long. I'm just putting things off. God damn."
"OK, I am back. So, what was the project about, anyway?"
"'How Long Does It Take For Food To Be Digested'."
"Oh."
"Yeah. I spent my allowance trying out various foods, to see what shows up the best after I shit. Corn worked best. Spent lots of money on film, too. The teachers hated it. I brought it in, with a big smile on my face. I thought it was great. Mrs. Hollingsworth ripped the photos from the display, put them in an envelope she glued shut with the principal's name on it, and sent me to the office. The kids were still laughing when I left. I hate them. Hate them all."
"Hey, tell you what. Here's one more drink. On the house."
"Gee, thanks..."
"Why don't you go down the block towards Allen Boulevard? There's a small massage parlor there...."
"Yeah?"
"Ask for Maggie. She's got great hands. Mind you, she's legit, and if all you get from it is a good massage, you'll be in great shape. But she kinda likes shy, awkward guys. Maybe you'll impress her."
"Think so? Hmm. Here, thanks for the drink. I'll talk to you later. And thanks for the tip."
"My pleasure. Take care."
"See ya."
"Hello, may I please speak to Maggie? This is Don.... Heya, babe... yeah, I know I shouldn't call you at work. But you won't BELIEVE the john coming your way. Get THIS..."
Fin.
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