Invidrion: Where did our chili go? I thought I put it in the hamper.
Celeste: You did put it in the hamper. That’s hardly the place to put chili.
Invidrion: Well I thought I was gonna come back for it, but then I forgot.
Celeste: And I was the lucky one who found it when? Six hours later?
Invidrion: What’s today? Wednesday?
Celeste: Yeah.
Invidrion: So you found it two days after I forgot it there. You’ve been slacking on the laundry.
W: I would like to produce a play.
C: That’s admirable. Who are the characters?
W: Oh, no. There won’t be any characters.
C: I’ve never heard of a play without characters.
W: You’ve been living under a rock, my friend.
C: I don’t understand why you have to point that out every time we get together. It’s rude and hurtful, especially in public places.
W: Jesus.
R: Better not stare at this one, dear. He looks a little self-conscious.
Z: Yes, you are correct.
R: Who’s that?
Z: His conscience.
R: Oh, that’s weird.
Z: Why?
R: Well, this hasn’t ever happened to me or anybody I know, and I never remember reading about it either.
Z: Understandable.
And so as we enter another phase of existence, we must turn to ourselves and ask: “Why are there so many penguins on the road? I swear I didn’t see this many yesterday. Did you, Gertrude? Ah well, don’t worry about it. I’m sure they’re just on their way to some fast food restaurant to get milkshakes. I believe the average penguin prefers vanilla over chocolate, because the color is truer to the hue of their feathers. Many an argument has been made that penguins would like chocolate, but there are few penguins with such brown plumage.”
The two friends walked up to the club’s front door, only to find a notice that read:
Hello, would-be disco-goers. Disco Grande has had to close its doors due to a draining interest in the culture. We are sorry for the inconvenience, and would like to offer you a complimentary condom. Please take only one from the bowl, as we’re operating on the honor system.
God bless–
Jamie Bliss
Former Owner of Disco Grande (the #1 dance club in the tri-county area for three years straight)
May 19, 1980
Upon reading the note, both Jim and Sam were obviously crestfallen. They looked around for a bowl of condoms, but didn’t see anything even remotely resembling one. Jim turned to Sam.
“Cheap bastards ran outta condoms.”
Sam’s jaw dropped in an interesting combination of surprise and amusement. “You being serious? That note’s from 33 years ago.”
Jim was unfazed by his friend’s arithmetic. “Nice math there Sam, but where’s the bowl?”
“Who gives a shit about some bowl? Someone probably took it like 25 years ago.”
Jim’s countenance grew weary. “I guess I wasn’t the first person to think about taking it.”
So Hollywood Jim and Sparkly Sam walked back to the parking lot, empty aside from Sam’s sedan.
“What do you want to do now?” Sam asked.
“Find that bowl?”
“Your anger isn’t unfounded, but I don’t know where it’s coming from. Spit out the woodchips and we’ll have a serious conversation. Your lovely little distractions can only blind me for so long to the true matter behind all of this. You know what I’m talking about. Come on now, there can’t be that many woodchips in your piehole. Jesus, were you going for a world record? I doubt you had the foresight to intentionally stuff your mouth and have an excuse not to speak to me. Are you about ready? I can keep nagging you until you’ve got every last scrap of landscaping material out of your mouth. You don’t think I’m serious? Let’s give it a shot.
“You don’t communicate with me. This is most obvious right now, but you only contribute a small fragment to our daily interactions. It’s like I’m the one who does all the talking for the both of us. I can only come up with so many original things before I feel like I have to repeat myself.
“You don’t listen to me. I can’t remember how many times I’ve caught you just looking up some girl’s skirt while I’m trying to get something important across to you. Then I have to repeat myself again! Every time that happens, a little piece of me dies. I hope you’re happy about that.
“On second thought, you’re not allowed to be angry. Only I can feel hurt at the moment. This conversation has become solely about me, and I don’t care what you think anymore. What do you say about that?”
“I have a splinter in my gums.”
Ã…: Excuse me, do I know you?
A: You do if you want to, but I can’t put my finger on where I’ve seen you before.
Ã…: The park?
A: You’ll need to be more specific. I go to… I go to many parks.
Ã…: Kennedy Memorial?
A: Odd time to talk about fallen presidents. No, I haven’t gone.
Ã…: No, the park on the west side.
A: Oh, right! Uh… no, haven’t been there in… ever.
Ã…: Do you even go to parks?
A: When I feel like it.
Ã…: Which is when, exactly?
A: When I feel like it.
Ã…: I’m starting to think I don’t want to know you.
A: Wait, please. I’m just trying to entertain you with foolishness and show you that my earnest side is actually quite pleasant.
Ã…: How does foolishness show me that you’re earnest?
A: Look at my eyes.
Ã…: They’re greenish brown.
A: Hazel. Like yours.
Ã…: Mine are bluish green.
A: Still hazel. I’m an expert on the subject.
WHARVED 