Monday, September 19, 2005

And now for your reading pleasure, I give you. . .a short story.

"Wake up. Cmon get up."
"What? What do you want so badly that it can't wait till this afternoon?"
"It is this afternoon, so get up already."
"Its afternoon? Oh wow, I've been sleep forever, why didn't you wake me up?"
"I just tried to. . ."
"Forget it, look, what do you want?"
"So. . ."
"So what? You're that persistent for fifteen. . ."
"Thirty."
"What?"
"Thirty minutes."
"Fine, thirty minutes and now you start off with a so...? You know what your problem is?"
"I can't afford to move out?"
"No, that's not it. Your problem is you aren't assertive enough. Take last night for instance. . ."
"That's what I was going to ask, how'd that go?"
"How'd that go? How do you think it went?"
"I wouldn't have asked if I knew."
"No, you shouldn't suddenly develop a backbone. Wait until I get fully awake before you start doing that. Then I can properly chastise you for being such a . . ."
"The party! Tell me about the party man!"
"Fine, fine, let me grab an orange juice."
"At two in the afternoon?"
"Oh wait, yeah, might as well wake and bake. We got any beer?"
"Yeah, in the fridge."
"Sweet."
"So. . ."
"I'm getting to it. So we get there at like ten."
"Ten at night? I thought it started at eight."
"Eight? What loser goes to parties at eight? Or for that matter what loser shows up on time?"
"Oh right, right, the cool people show up late. Forgettably late."
"No its fashonably late, you spineless loser! Why do I even bother. . ."
"So its ten o'clock, what then?"
"So I walk and there are wall to wall PYTs. . ."
"PYTs? Personal Yacht Tables?"
"That's it. I'm not telling you anymore."
"What that's not what PYT means?"
"No you idiot, its pretty young thing. PYTs are pretty young things."
"Oh. Clever. Did you make that up?"
"Of course. So the PYTs are all over, I mean its nothing but beauty as far as the eye can see. Almost like I just walked into the cave and said open sesame and there they were."
"Wouldn't have you to say open sesame first?"
"What?"
"You know, say open sesame first, then walk into the cave."
"End of story."
"Cmon, I'm just saying."
"I mean it this time, next time you'll have to just live the dream on your own, with no help from the outside world of reality."
"Just finish it. For me?"
"Whatev. Get me another beer."
"Sure thing."
"Thanks. So I'm casing the joint, you know spotting who will give me something to say, and I see this rather tall girl in a corner sipping a daquiri. . ."
"They had mixed drinks there?"
"Uh. . .yeah."
"Like, a frozen daquiri, or you know the kind that's cold and. . ."
"A daquiri okay, it was a frickin daquiri. MAN! What is your problem? Do you even care what she looked like?"
"The daquiri is a very important part of what she looked like."
"That's it, I swear you will never know what happened."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry."
"So I walk up to her, start giving her the classic charm, you know, totally talking my way to the leisure suit, when she stops me and asks me for a drink."
"I thought she had a daquiri?"
"I know, and you know what I pay in rent, so there's no way I'm getting this girl another daquiri."
"That's right. Rent's high."
"So's gas. So I say, here let me take this and I'll get you another. And take her glass, which she's gripping like a eagle grips chickens in its talons, and after wresting away from her I go to the bar. Bartender comes up and says, hey what'll you have, I say give me a tonic water. That's like a buck fifty."
"Thought she wanted a drink?"
"I'm getting there. So I bring it back and tell her it grey goose and tonic."
"So?"
"SO pipsqueak, everyone knows you can barely taste grey goose in tonic water. The stuff's too smooth."
"OH SNAP!"
"I know, she's costing me very little."
"Very little."
"So she's knocking back probably wondering why she's not buzzing, when the waiter comes over and asks if she'd like another club soda. And she looks and says, yes, but I have vodka and tonic. And the waiter says no, the bartender said you had a club soda. And she looks at me, and now my cover is blown, and I know I can't pretend because I'm really that cheap."
"Yeah you are, you just knocked back three of my beers."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"So I start acting outraged, as if I didn't realize that I'd been pumping her full of tonic water, and I get up getting ready to head to the bar, and she stops me and she goes to the bar, and I'm thinking, alright, she's going to get all kungfu betty on the dudes head, and then she talks to him, they both look at me, and then she gets another drink, and I'm like alright, and she hits me in the face and leaves me a receipt. Apparently that was a quadruple shot of grey goose she just splashed me with. All the vodka she should've gotten."
"What'd you do?"
"Only thing I could've. I jumped the bartender after."
"Wow. So that's how you got so beat up. Man, if you look like that, I'd hate to see him."
"I'd hate to see him too, because he's a really good fighter who also promised to beat me like he did last night, everytime, in fact anytime, he saw me."
"Ouch."
"Yeah. Also the last thing I remember before I blacked out is the cops showing up."
"Whoa."
"Yeah, so how'd I get home?"
"The cops."
"Yeah that's what I thought."
"So. . ."
"Yeah, I'm going out again tonight. You want to come."
"Are you kidding? I've been trying to get you to ask about that all afternoon. Lets go!"

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Anonymous said...

Good story, mane. Mucho enjoyo.