Tirade

“My heart goes out to her, such a lovely beautiful girl”

“Don’t say that in front of her, she’ll be on my head forever, poor lovely girl married to a bloke like me”

“You’re lovely too”

“No you don’t understand, she’ll make it out like that, like poor her, like I’m jealous she got a compliment or something”

“…‘that’ she got a compliment. You sound jealous”

“Do you understand that ‘she’ will go on a self-pitying rampage that will leave me picking after her while she nags and nags and nags., and acts like I’m no good for her. I don’t want to go through it, so this is a preemptive strike.”

“Such aggression young man, I think that she ‘is’ a poor girl and needs to be taken out of your ruthless clutches.”

“Just don’t say it to her, ok?”

“Oh I will say it and give her a good reading on you too!”
























VIRAGO:

“Germs, everywhere germs….I feel just awful ……..disgusting confused, germs”
“What are you talking about?”
“GERMS! ARE YOU DEAF OR SOMETHING?????!!!”
“Not so loud….germs, right um solution ah! Eureka… soap”
“Soap with germs all over it, feces particles… its disgusting”
“How about soap solution?”
“You have to touch something to get it out, it isn’t as though I can just clap my hands or snap my fingers”
“Under the circumstances I wouldn’t think you’d want to”
“I just think that it would be really nice if you know like those dryers they have in public bathrooms. Yeah like those, leave your hands under it and a knob of liquid soap just drops in. I think that would be terrific.”
“Or better yet, ‘something like a dishwasher…’ just foams up while you rub and scrub your hands together. Beautiful.”
“I like my idea better.”
“Who’s going to implement it, God?”
“We should copyright it”
“Yeah great that would be awesome, do you know any copyrighters?”
“I think so, but they may write copy and not copyright if you know what I mean.”
“How’s your mom?”
“Ruining my life as usual”
“You haven’t grown out of it?”
“Oh people rarely do”
“Yeah”
“She took my sheets”
“Is that code for trouble”
“No, she literally snagged my sheets. It’s great just”
“Made out with them like a bandit eh?”
“Yeah super mum, burns clothes steals sheets, the great big hood, slimy dilemma, and the wonderful woman who spawned me.”
“Why?”
“She has something against getting clean sheets, ‘must rob me of mine and not provide ‘me’ with clean sheets either”
“I love her already”
“All smiles, I’ll tell you what, three cheers for the ‘living with mother syndrome’. I need to get to Alta vista they have teachers for my courses I’ve been telling my grand financiers that since last year. I wish I could somehow drive to them the fact that by wasting my time and energy, they’re wasting their money.”
“It’s no waste he likes watching you suffer”
“Eh?”
“I can tell”
“Hmm. Anyway I’m gonna try a few sums, get out and buy some bleach, hope to God that old hag’s, not playing solitaire at the monitor so ‘I’ cab get to ‘work’ which really translates to, writing stupid memos for my darling daddy, who for some odd reason has a hard time figuring out the phrase “Uni has no teachers for my courses, I need to go to Islamabad. I Know I told you last year and the year before that when my math teacher Mr.Noorideen was blimping signals of future despair. But then, I am at fault since I’ve always known how thick and impossible to get through to, you are””
“THE WHOLE NINE YARDS!”
“You betcha! No umm I’ll have to write something long tardy impeccably superfluous, a real Sisyphean task. All polite and shit, with all the necessary web links, so all he needs to do is to make a check. Though that’s all he needs to do anyway… *tongue in cheek*… if only he weren’t thick, old fart.”
“You sound like a first class bitch”
“You would too in my situation.”
“Can’t argue with that. Even if it’s just to avoid an argument about how I can never put myself in your place no matter how accurate my simulation it wouldn’t be the same… here it comes”
“Don’t flatter yourself, though, I’ll give it to you kid, you’re a good listener.”
“Shucks we’re out of toothpaste”
“I’ll get some with the groceries, that Mrs. Hendricks gave me a compliment yesterday, called me the loveliest most beautiful girl”
“Did she say anything about me?”
“No, nothing”
“She sounded like she had a lot to say about me”
“Really? You talked to her?”
“Come on, what did she say?”
“She made no mention of you”
“Look I was in a bad mood, tired, over worked needing a break”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about”
“Look, she said she’d give you a good ‘reading’ on me. WHATEVER THAT MEANS”
“Why is it that you just can’t stand it when somebody says something nice about me, can’t you be happy for me just this once?”
“This is what I was bitching about”
“You can’t handle anyone telling you your wife’s good-looking??”
“No how you make it about me being insecure and cold and jealous and hotheaded and everything”
“I’m sorry, I stand corrected!”
“Apology accepted”
“Ho ho ho, no you don’t”
“You’re Santa Claus now?”
“You know what, you’re not worth it”
“Excuse me?”
“You seriously are not, I mean… adios I’m going to get myself some fresh air, fresh fruit and veg. and I just need to relax, breathe.”
“And you’re ‘not’ breathing now?”
“Not like I should be, no!”

BANG WHAM SLAM!


PENNINGTON’S WILL:
“I never read the book; can you fill me in on it?”
“It is about Pennington and his will”
“A little less brief, please?”
“Pennington was a pianist, quite a popular one; it is narrated by the girl who loves him… there are terse reflections on fondness, she always finds her hands in his and so on. He’s interested in the posh filthy rich type though and she’s insecure about her girlish infatuation being dismissed as just that. To be honest I haven’t read it either.”
“Thanks anyway”

WALK WITH ME:
“She entered with a grisly smile on her face and began relating an erotic parable which was distastefully amusing, her idea of ‘buttering up’ the boss, I’m the boss. So I’m sitting there teeth out, wondering if a loud applause would serve as a loud enough cue for her to march off. I’m wondering, she’s talking, snickering gurgling giggling, her hands touching her mouth then her belly, sporadic heckling, I could puke. Finally I got her the idea that she had made the best impression she could and somehow convinced her to get to work without coming off as a grouchy old jerk… She was back the next day, sheets of paper sprawled all over my desk, and piles mounting, my tie loose and aggravated and her, she offered to help, put my desk in order, her hands found their way to my shoulders and then climbed down to the small of my back, it was relaxing I got comfortable and even more so when she stopped. There was that silence that blindsides you in the oddest moments, you don’t know where to start so you’re struck dumb, I went straight for the pile ferociously attacking it, she began to tell her filthy jokes again, feeling she had offended me and had to make up for it, and what a way to make up too, this time it was a relief. The pile got duller and like a jack-robin she spurted her colors on me, I felt a laugh coming and her hand moved from her lips to her navel and then touched her bare knee those nervous ticks gained something magnetic, sweat dangling in her black snaky locks, her face glowing, eyes bright, lips red, even the bubbles foaming between her teeth as she gurgled caught an attractive turn. Her knee, then her calves her ankles strappy heels, her airy white blouse, cleavage, I yelled at her, every word that wanted to spill out the day before, while I slapped a PR smile on my face and was making her feel like number one, blurted. I liked it today, it made me tingly today , I ached to touch her leg , I wanted to grovel, slobber all over her and rage spilled in all directions, she looked like she was just about to cry, her face: crumpled ashen, and again me, with my carnal urges the desire to just pin her to the floor. And then the phone call, like a death sentence: it’s your wife sir, “Thank you” I replied, “I’ll take it in” the door shut, her eyes gaped at me with the oddest admiration, large young watery eyes. She was touched not hurt, there was the utmost respect speckled with love, admiration. “You can get back to work now” I said as politely as I could, standing over my desk, my gaze lowered, officiously shifting papers, she watched me on the way out and before I knew it the entire office was buzzing about what a wonderful decent man I was. ”

TALK TO ME
Breakeven fire escape jingle jangle fear guns heart beat you.
“Hon, you didn’t shave!”
“Tell me something I don’t know”
“It’s a real bother; all that pit-hair, would you mind getting rid of it?”
“Do you mind? Underarm hair…”
“Yes I do, I think voicing my complaint should make that clear”
“I mean, do you mind getting out of there? I’m not really in the mood.”
“When ‘are’ you in the mood?”
“Not at 2 A.M in the morning. I’m not in the mood for this either. Night e night”
“No, I’m not sleeping on this”
“Shucks. Why do you have to be such an old hag sometimes?”
“Geez ‘I’m’ an old hag, that’s really something you know that?”
“Yes I do, now can I get some shut-eye?”
“We’ve got issues damn it, you can’t just sleep ‘em off”
“Correction “You’ve’ got issues. “I’ve” got simulated insomnia. And you simulate it. I’m sleeping on the couch. Don’t follow me!”


“Hi”
“I said ‘don’t’”
“I know what you said”
“I guess; “are you deaf or something?” is an unfitting retort. Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Hon, don’t be like this.”

He gave her a gentile kiss on the cheek close to her eye, and then proceeded to give her a back rub.
… “Nobody likes an aggressor.”
“And I don’t like a nag. I said ‘no, I’m not in that mood” and that’s that.” she walks into the bedroom and turns around, slamming the door behind her.
“Why don’t we ever talk?” he droned contemplating the state of his back in the morning. It was already morning any way. Sometimes he thought about hooking up with a call-girl. Just like that. Fish-net stockings and a whole lot of orangy-red lipstick. The smell of that and this, Warmth… gusto , what a profession, girls trained to turn you on and flip, eat off you ,maybe, he would like being eaten off, acting?
He couldn’t take that frigid old, hairy dormouse. Always ‘minding her business’. Just something. A tinge of jealousy? A little anger if not passion. Come on, the girl couldn’t give a damn about him. He ruffled his already ruffled tresses, hmm hair. Then he took himself out for a stroll, just him and… him.
After a warm ‘nice to se you buddy’ ‘it’s been a long time’ ‘don’t forget your quote’ and humming a happy ‘out for a walk’ tune. He considered just listening for the breeze, as animals howled and chirped.

“Hey old man” a neighbor grunted, she was out for a smoke , his wife yelling behind him , about setting the house on fire and ‘that’ filthy stench, then a little about his ugly good-for-nothing posterior , she used the word ‘arse’ , he would’ve personally favored ‘bum’. But what the heck difference does it make.
“Good times” he finally responded
“The best I’ve had in my life” chucked the newly discovered neighbor.
“Me too, never felt better”
“Hey old chum, a joke’s a joke… did she throw you out? Women!”
“Boy, you’re soon to judge, um no I do all the chucking and hurling in my darling abode.”
“How’s about a smoke?”
“How about something interesting, instead”
“Does my old man, have a proposition?”
“Where did your daddy come from? I’m just about your age, and must you remind me?”
“To answer the first question, my daddy’s from Wisconsin, and the other thing, I must.”
“Let’s go out tonight, just us guys??”