Well, we all know I will randomly time how long it takes people to dress their drinks. Because I’m interested, you see. In an anthropological way. I want to know.
Today, though, I did something even more astonishing all in the furtherance of science: I timed a guy’s monologue, the one he delivered at me. Because — didn’t we cover this already? — I’m interested, you see. I want to know. But please don’t think that your local baristas or coffee mistresses are doing this to you. They’re not. And how do I know they’re not, you ask? Because, you silly, they’re just not interested like I am — and didn’t you kinda already sense that, deep down inside, when you leave with your large soy latte and a certain empty feeling?
Of course you did.
So, all right. The breakdown.
The Talker:
Male. Mid-50’s. Works in real estate. Gay, but seems straight. Salt and pepper hair. Untucked green shirt. Denim shorts. Skinny legs. Bad breath. Nice, he’s nice. Just ….
Topics covered:
— City Council
— Foreclosures
— Filipinos
— A seminar he went to. I think it was about seminars.
— How to prune roses
— Gay Seattle. He used to live in Seattle, but then, so did I. I still don’t think he knows that.
— His hatred of George W. Bush
Favorite quotes:
— “The gay population of Seattle is all smokers and winos and lardos. Take that away and there’s only about 42 people left.”
Okay. Hahahaha.
— “You gotta dump dog poo on your roses and then cover it with grass. You’ll have great roses. GREAT roses.”
Hm. But I don’t have any roses. Plus, I don’t have a dog, so basically, I would have to borrow or, well, probably steal some dog poo — because who’s gonna want it back, really? — from a neighbor’s pooey dog, then get some rose bushes or maybe get the rose bushes first so the poo isn’t sitting around, breathlessly anticipating the arrival of rose bushes to poo on, then go mow a neighbor’s scraggly lawn, because I don’t have one of those either, and scoop up the grass trimmings and the dog poo and plop ’em all on these great new rose bushes I now have even though I don’t have a yard to put them in. Still, it seems like really good advice.
— “And the Filipino lady said to me after we closed escrow, ‘You so nice. You find somebody. Girl. Boy. Whaeveh.'”
Monologue Length (Minutes):
42:02:66.
Sweet Lordy.
Oh. And on a related note: Kenya’s Robert Cheruiyot won this week’s Boston Marathon in 2 hours, 14 minutes, 13 seconds, with The Talker a close, chatty second.
hahahaha “42 people left”
I love people.
I was laughing over, “Girl. Boy. Whatevah.”
But yeah. Even though people can be lovely and amusing and all, there are times I want to hear the thoughts in my OWN head for a change.
(I live in the South, which is Life-Story Central. Seriously. I know stuff about students that I really shouldn’t know. Stuff that I really hope I never get called on to testify about in a court of law.)
Filipinos?!
How ’bout Kenyans? They’ve won, like, every marathon on earth. But don’t bring that up. Jabberwocky does not need talking points .
And he said all this BEFORE he was caffeinated?
When I was in college, I worked for minimum wage calling alumni to beg them for money. My co-worker had an oft-used 3 word expression when they started getting into their glory days stories: “Wrap it UP.” Of course she also called them, “Toolie” (but not to their faces). I think Toolie is Slappy’s East Coast cousin.
Give me the Queen of Denmark, for my money – “More matter, with less art.” (Come to think of it, you could use that line on Talky Timmy AND the Overlord, ya dig?)
…I would have to borrow or, well, probably steal some dog poo — because who’s gonna want it back, really? — from a neighbor’s pooey dog…
As I recall, you do have access to an oversized dog anus.
(I simply cannot believe that I just typed that, and it made sense.)
it’s always the kenyans, isn’t it?
Nightfly, from the same play–“brevity is the soul of wit.” (Different character.)
And I thought I was the only one who had a passing thought about the dog (represented by Tracey’s photo of her Ugg boot–I think in images)! Although to use the word “access” is, uh, kinda gross.
Kate – true, but every alternative was even worse! I tried. And spending ten minutes trying them out is what brought home the cosmic craziness of it.
NF — “access to an oversized dog anus” HAhahahaha! And even funnier that you spent 10 minutes thinking about the right word.
I’m always amazed at how easy it is to think about Beau’s big anus.
YES! You’re exactly right, Kate! As soon as I read NF’s brilliant commentary on dog anuses I thought of the Ugg Boot picture! It looks perfectly like an image from one a’those teenie-tiny little cameras they use to do exploratory surgery.
[pouty]Wish I had a camera phone.