Bed Monsters

the weight of light
and my filthy mouth
and every methodical second
reminded me
never to sleep alone again.

if you die before me
and I am a shaking old man
with an open mouth
staring at the ointments on isle four
i will be sadder than the Pacific Ocean.

you make me want to own a gun
so I can point it at the world
and you can touch me
and tell me
to calm down.

bed monsters
good and bad
sex
tears
and living.

bed monsters
a friend of mine shot himself
in his bed,
the bullet piercing the brain
and both matresses.

two cats
a dog
wife
erection
and me.



I write mostly as a woman.
I saw Katy walking across the bridge towards me. She was bouncing with each step talking on the phone. She wore a colorful sundress and sunglasses. My wife squinted at me as we got out of the car to look for work.
Katy became good friends with us, going to the river and drinking Kentuckys bounty. She got me a job at the bar she worked at and we compared our mutual bodily decay as we freely drank wiskey between customers. The winter set in and so did the darkness in her.
“I hate wisdom. No one is sadder than the thinker.” She chased these ideas with cigarette smoke. “I used to care, I am old. This is hell.” I agreed. An hour later she was a weeping mess, throwing objects at me, I think, because she loved me. I politely dodged and went home to warm bed and wife. Then I quit drinking, wich alowed me to finish my first book, the infuriating anti clamax leaving the protagonist alone, drunk and subject to panic atacks in a small apartment.
We are leaving now. Recently I saw Katy crossing the bridge as I strode to my new job. She wore all black and her hair was thin and yellow. Her skin was pale. I think if I were left to my own, without a squinting wife and drivers licence, I would be Katy and dead by next year.

Turn The Crappy Up

The long awaited second album by the disaster is set to debut this summer. 'Turn The Crappy Up,' will feature the hit song, "blues on meth,' critics are calling this 'The Disasters second album,' and, 'definitely derived from instruments being played.' The Disaster is on Henry Kissinger's Ipod and he is said to be listening to it while shooting squirrels from his back patio, nude late at night. If I were you, I would buy this album, but what do I know? I'm just sexy and brilliant. Watch www.governmentproductions.com for updates.

Pulp (that House I Robbed)

L. Sprauge DeCamp was a prolific writer of science fiction in the last half of the last century. Among his peers were Issac Azimov and Ray Bradbury, and then there were countless nameless writers. Stoically and compulsively they all churned out reams of fiction. But like today's idle bloggers, they all gave it up during the paper rationing of WWII. L. Sprauge DeCamp continued to work as a transcriber and screen writer for many years to follow. From his witting I remember fondly his ridiculous scenarios and visions of a future world where scientists sought to invent time travel in order to assassinate Einstein. Each assassin disarmed by Einstein's charms, instead worked to channel nuclear power to peaceful uses, but ended up facilitating it's ultimate misuse and roll in the destruciton of earth causing more scientists to invent time travel to assassinate Einstein.

The human mind is a vast intricate and ridiculous tool, and I like it best when it's potential is wasted on such scenarios. It's a shame DeCamp is forgotten in the annals of literature. I only know of him due to X-One recordings and a derelict house full of ancient Science fiction pulp I once robbed. Maybe out there there is a blogger toiling away at something as wonderful and ridiculous as DeCamps writing. We shall never see. But I sure found some great pain pills in that house I robbed.

and

art and over passes
vomiting and passionate love
cars that lasted and love that didn’t
fired and hired
passionate love and pure fear
relic trucks and distant destinations
overpasses and more overpasses
one more pill and sleep
pure fear and an insugnificant obligation
vomiting and driving
somthing like calm and dried tears
obituaries and tired old friends who want you to grow up
growing up and becoming more instable
gritting teeth and a pint of wine before work
awaking sober and in love
worrying where she is and being alone
pure fear and growing up
old drunks and young drunks
my dog’s love for me and my lack of confidence
my desire to write and not feel manic

if we don’t grow older together
we won’t grow older together
and I am
only as long we are dying
slowly
together.
you and me.

Last Laughs

woke up this morning with a bottle of whiskey
i’m sinken real fast do you wanna come with me
lets go

oklahoma city or new york
Louisiana or up North
lets go

roads headed south and roads headed north
spin the bottle baby lets chart the course
lets go

you can ramble around from city to town
got a girl to stick around
your always home

home aint a place but a state of mind
got a good girl with a big behind
your always home



Last Laughs
(before they become forced and insecure)


Can I get you another?
(I am asking myself this)

exploring the limits of my body and mind
or doing enough drugs to balance tight rope walker
high high high above us all to our amazement.
One one thing I can agree with the baby boom,
especially the blown up baby boom,
vicodin, oxycontin and a dab of xanax
is better than any promotion.
I have shit my pants
and in it,
there is romance.

After work once while one the way to the grocery store
a man told me the world was to end Easter 2007
which I realize now is my birthday.
He then asked me for a dollar.

Who has the time to read
and on what are our knowing glances based?
I feel like the only one grinning
at the supermarket.
I feel like the only one grinning,
sometimes.
Last night at work a waitress dropped a full tray
of steaks
seafood
and lobster...
salads, bread
on the starving floor. The whole restaurant stopped to stare,
then god eased up the volume knob.
As I helped her clean
I felt as if we had saved those meats
from hideous teeth.

But honestly
caught like a deer in headlights,
sobriety becomes me
and I still feel stupid.

Who has time to read honesty these days?
There are several fat women with Dean Koontz books
in the back office of the hotel where I work.
They are appreciative of heaping Nacho platters we bring them
then with thick fingers
they translate
tender bar conversations
mid-life crisis martinis
and confounding appetizers
into the capitol that fuels the hotel and restaurant.
These women are titans
and ought not be made light of.

Bruegel
I know well
beer, feasts and loose women.
I know too the joy
of painting it all.

So you are beautiful,
I mean that.
Not when you arrive,
but when you leave
flustered angry and older.
Fuck it,
waitress.
Become
a woman
who waits
and drink
and be barely
merry
and let
another treat you well
those fleeting
moments that remain
before 2:30am.


When it’s all said and done
(and it is, and it is)
I think I can die happy
knowing
rigamortis
causes an erection.

Entry Level Possition at 26

An entry level position
I am appliying for
has aplicants a decade younger than I
mouthing the words silently
on their aplications.
We train together,
one girl stares out the window
as the manager rambles.
My intuition
and wet eyed stiocism
intruige a girl with father issues
as we fold napkins.
A question is asked
I know the answer to
and I obstain.
A young man ansers
and somthing in him clicks.
He knows the work world
is his.
I wonder if anyone can see me shake.

As I sit at The Bridge Tender Bar,
boisterous youth pass by
the window.
One screams and pushes another
they laugh and continue down the street.

An old lady
stops smoking
to nod.
Thank god
I’m not sixteen.

The difference between me
the children
and the old woman
is little.
And I too nod.

poetry

In deffence of Bukowski

An asshole asked me why I hadn’t grown out of Bukowski. Simply because I haven’t yet grown out of Bukowski. I still go to work drunk, have been fired from several jobs in the last year and am estranged from my parents. I purchase pills from dishwashers, I drive drunk and I cry while driving to the grocery store. I have strange and kinky sex, then very little for weeks, I buy pills from dishwashers, I constantly plot leaving town, I masterbate at work, I feel bad for dying drunks and I can tell when someone is about to kill themselves. I purchase pills from dishwashers, I still go to work drunk and I haven’t yet grown out of Bukowski. Worst of all, I still read poetry. It was never somthing I was compelled to do inorder to graduate with a libral arts degree. Reading poetry is something I have done while waiting for buses all my life.

My wife

My wife sees me as a machine.
My joints, moods and malfunctions
are regulated
with beer
tummy rubs
and food fuel.
I hope to grow on her
and when she starts me up in the morning
years and years from now
she says, ‘come on old boy.’


My wife sees me as a horse.
My size makes me fragile
and my silence speaks volumes
to her as she leeds me
out of the house to work.
And my human qualities
are accepted
and I am happy to be led.

My wife sees me as a stranger
lingering in a parking lot.
Doing odd things that come to his ferrel mind
making him dangerous
until familiarity has her bekon him
into her warm car.


My wife sees me as a writer
and that’s the best accolade I have ever had.

my first born

Interest
by Patrick Louis Carrico


















2003 Patrick Louis Carrico
100 Ne 68th
Portland, Oregon 97213
503-257-9864


Cast Of Characters
(In order of appearance)


SCOTT......................A young man tired of the routine.

Emily...........................Either wired or brilliant. Her awareness hurts her. 19 years old.

Nate........................... Confident, funny, infinitely depressed. Stuck in a life he hates. Community college professor.

Tony..........................Middle class, a bit of a dick.

PoliceMan.................National guard reject

Delivery Person........Female

Time: Late 1990’s
Setting: A PayDay Advance and Car Title Loan store.


A paycheck advance, title loan office in a small coastal town. It looks like an apartment, only all the furniture is either repossessed or for sale. Nothing matches, everything is made of press board. The walls are white with bad art. It is an honest space, no artistic condescending interpretations of suburban living, please. There are couches, dinning room sets, a desk, and a kitchen area. The lighting begins subdued.




Act I

Scott enters what appears to be a domestic living room. The furnishings are quaint, not quite hotel, not quite Target. He is wearing a rain coat which he takes of and places on the hat rack by the door. He throws a newspaper he was carrying onto a desk in a corner. He stalks around the room briefly, then sits at the desk. He spends a great deal of time trying to get comfortable, trying a variety of positions. He takes from a drawer a yellow legal pad and begins to write on it, but scratches out what he has written. He drums his pen on the pad and leans back in his chair awaiting inspiration. He leans back in his chair. He almost falls backwards. In saving himself from falling he stands, and instead of righting his chair, he walks over to a percolator in the corner of the room and starts a pot of coffee. He begins to mumble to himself. A phone rings at his desk, as he looks over at it he spills the coffee grounds. He picks up the receiver and walks back over to the mess on the floor he’s just made, but can’t quite reach while hanging onto the phone.

Scott: Quick Stop Paycheck advance and title loan, this is Scott, how can I help you this morning? (As he speaks, he tries to sweep the grounds towards him with his foot) Yes. No. I see. No. Were open till six this afternoon. We would need the deed. How much? Well, I can look it up. (He walks over to the desk and takes a larger binder out and begins to thumb through it) Spirit. Dodge spirit. What was the year? 89. 89. Dodge. Spirit. Caravan, no. Mini...no 86, 87, 89. Ah, here it is. What condition would you say it’s in? (He takes the book back over to the mess which while cradling the phone on his shoulder, and holding the book, he attempts to reign in the coffee grounds) We could give you 400 dollars for your spirit. I realize your spirit is worth far more than that, that’s just how much we are allowed to give you (failing to collect grounds with one hand, he puts the binder on the floor and tries to fill his hands with grounds. Having no where to put the grounds, he puts them on the binder) ok. Sure. I’ll be here.

He walks back to his desk where there is a trash bag with the grounds, the binder and phone. He puts the phone back on the hook and wipes the grounds somewhat into the trash. The percolator begins to boil the water, but as the kettle hasn’t been placed in the cradle, the hot water begins to droll down the table it is on. The phone rings again, Scott picks up the phone just as he sees the water beginning to spill.

Scott: Quick Stop (Pause as he registers the spilling) Paycheck advance and title loan, this is Scott. Help, can I you, can I help you?

Scott walks with the phone back over to the percolator but finds the cord wont reach. He tries to position his body to be able to reach it.

Scott: Yes, Tony. Those reports are almost ready. I’ll fax them over when I get the numbers firm. Did I forget that signature? No, I must have. You don’t have come over. Ok, are you going to bring...

While stretching for the percolator, the phone cradle on the desk falls off to the floor, disconnecting the line.

Scott: Hello? Hello? Tony, are you there? Shit.
Scott puts the phone on the floor and walks over to the percolator and turns it off. He then walks back to the desk and looks for something to sop up the mess with, but finds nothing except the newspaper. He takes this back to the puddle and begins to spread the papers over the puddle. Seeing that the puddle is spreading, he moves some furniture away from it, leaning a chair against a sofa.

Scott: I need a mop. Maybe they have one next door.

Scott leaves. Ten seconds later, Tony arrives.

Tony: Jesus, what the hell happened here? Scott? Are you here? (Tony surveys the mess, briefly looks in the desk.) Where is the money? I’ve been robed. (Picks up the phone and dials. )

Tony: Hello, I’d like to report a robbery. We are at 212 Commercial... The Quick Stop Paycheck advance and title loan, this is Tony. It wasn’t me who was robbed, it was my employee, Scott ... who isn’t here right now. I don’t know where he is, I was just talking to him a minute ago on my cell phone. No, I wont touch anything. They’ll be over that soon? Wonderful. (Hangs up phone, tries to clean but is overwhelmed. Enter Officer)

Enter Officer.

Officer: What seems to be the problem here?

Tony: We’ve been robbed. I just got here and the place has been ransacked. Look at all this... chairs everywhere, coffee on the floor, the phone on the floor. Scott, my employee was supposed to be here, I was talking to him on my cell as I drove up and he was cut off, with no explanation. I got here and the place is a mess and the cash drawer isn't here, and there is no Scott.

Officer: Ok, so we have an apparent robbery and a missing person. Can I have your full name.

Tony: Tony Allen.

First Officer: And this Scott?

Tony: Scott James.

Officer: And you say Scott was supposed to be here, and now he’s gone and so is the cash? Gone with the cash.

Tony: I don’t suspect he’d...

Officer: You don’t suspect he’s what?

Tony: Take the cash. Although I guess he’d have the opportunity.

Officer: Let’s not jump to any conclusions now. If this Scott took the cash, were would the first place he’d go, be? Does he have any relatives in town? A girl friend?

Tony: He lives with his girl friend. Should I call him?

Officer: Yes.

Tony: Ok.

Tony dials, the Officer briefly disappears out the door and reappears with caution tape. The two officers begin to tape the room off as a crime scene. One makes a call to headquarters to report a robbery.

Tony: Irene? Yes, this is Tony from Quick Stop Paycheck advance and title loan, this is Tony speaking. Is Scott there? No he’s not at work. I know. Has he been acting funny? (Pause) Well he’s not here and there is some money missing and some police officers looking for him as well. If he turns up, tell him to make it easy on himself and call the police or turn himself in. I don’t know. I always liked him, thought he was a good worker. (Pause) Yeah, maybe you should move to your mothers until we sort this out. Ok. Bye.

Just then Scott returns with a mop. He has to negotiate the tape over the door. He looks about in awe.

Scott: Tony, what’s going on.

Tony: Scott?

Officer: (hand on gun) Ok Mr. James, where is the money? Please put down that mop.

Scott: What’s going on?

Officer: Take it easy sir, we just want to talk to you.

Tony: Where were you?

Scott: I was getting a mop?! (Raises mop)

Officer: Woah! (Lunges for Scott and his mop, prying it from his grasp) I’ve got the mop. Good job.

Scott: What the hell, I spilled some coffee and I went to get a mop to clean it up.

Tony: Where’s the money?

Scott: It’s in the microwave, where we keep it. I haven’t put it in the drawer yet, I had just got in.

Tony: What? (Walks over to the microwave, takes out a small metal box full of money)

Scott: What is all this, police tape? I was gone for five minutes.

Tony: This is a business, those five minutes you were supposed to be here.

Scott: But the mop (points to it in the officer’s hands. The officer pulls it towards himself protectively).

Tony: What the fuck were you thinking, leaving the store?

Officer: Well, we’ve recovered the money, but where is Mr. James?
Where is Mr. James?

Scott: I am Mr. James. Scott James.

Officer: (Looking at his notes) So, you didn’t leave the scene with the money?

Scott: What scene? I went next door to the one hour photo to borrow their mop. Anne over there talked my ear off, so it took a while. We never get that many customers before noon anyway.

Officer: So there is no crime here (reluctantly leaning the mop against the wall).

Scott: No. No.

the phone rings several times. All are in a daze. Tony reluctantly answers it.

Tony: Quick Stop Paycheck advance and title loan, this is Tony. No, we found him. Apparently he took a little stroll. Sure, here. It’s Natalie.

Scott: Really? Hi baby. No. No. I.... I... I didn’t. It’s not like that. I don’t have money. I was... I was. I was at work. I was. I was. I always go to work. Of course... Of course you can trust me. You can! You can! (Pause) What? Why.... she hung up.

Officer: Seeing as this has been resolved, I suppose there is no further need for us. Given the circumstances, we’ll not need to fill out a report unless you are going to press charges or make an insurance claim... Mr. Allen?

Tony: Uh... No. Thank you gentlemen.

Officer: Maybe you need to communicate better with your employees in the future.

Tony: Yes, or find better employees.

Officer: If anything else develops, give us a call. (As he walks out the door, he remembers the mop. Inlew of handing it to the dazed Scott who is staring at the phone, he makes the effort to hand it to Tony)

Tony: Thank you gentlemen, you’ve been a great help. (Officer leaves) Jesus. I can’t believe you did that to me.

Scott: I still am catching up. You came in and called the cops?

Tony: Yeah?! The god damn place was a mess. I mean Christ!? Look at my show room?! Who is going to rent a chair that is over turned and standing in... standing water? Look at this god damn place.

Scott and tony survey the scene in disbelief. Scott fumbles with some of the caution tape.

Tony: You know what? I’m going to do you a god damn favor. I’m going down the street to OwnandRent to see how Matt is doing. I’m going to then come back to this fucking...fucking nightmare. And when I get back, it will look like none of this has happened. See what a god damned charitable human being I am? Do you see what a fucking saint of a human being I am by allowing you to stay instead of kicking your god damned ass out in the street? Do you see it? Do you see? Do you?

Scott: Yeah (unconvinced)
Tony: Ok? I’m leaving now (Backs out through the door) and when I return to this office, it will appear as if this place is NOT a crime scene, but a functioning business. Yes? Yes? Yes?
Scott: Yes.

Scott begins to replace items in the room. He takes down the copious police tape and puts it in the trash. It over fills the can. He straightens the room sweeps the mess. Amidst these domestic chores, a young lady enters the shop.

Scott: I’ll be with you in one moment.
The phone begins to ring. Scott rushes to stuff police tape into the trash can and get over to the phone.
Scott: (tired) Quick Stop Advance and Loan Paycheck uhh.. this is Scott. (Long pause as Scott tiredly nods as the phone call is from tony and the same tired physical responses he gave earlier are repeated for him) Yes... Yes.... YES. I’ve got a customer. No, I haven’t skipped town. Yes. Bye. (Under his breath) Asshole. Hello. How can I help you.
Emily: I need a loan on my car.
Scott: (Long pause as he spaces out) I’m sorry what?
Emily: I have my car title and I’d like a loan.
Scott: Ah yes. We do that sort of thing here.
Emily: So your sign suggests.
Scott: Quick stop. What does that imply (half to himself).
Emily: I suppose a quick stop to the meth cravings if you have a car title.
Scott: True true. Boy if you only knew.
Emily: (Half Snorts) Boy if you only knew.
Scott: (looks up) What kind of car will you be...
Emily: 97 Jeep Cherokee.
Scott: And it’s under your name?
Emily: Yes.
Scott: Can I see?
Emily: Here ya go?
Scott: (Looking for evidence of forging) Nice car.
Emily: My dad bought it for me for graduating H.S.
Scott: Yeah? Where did you go?
Emily: Astoria.
Scott: Yeah, what year?
Emily: I graduated last year.
Scott: You look older than that. I mean... wiser.
Emily: Wiser? That’s one thing I am pretty certain I am not. So I look old now.
Scott: No, I don’t mean like fat old Moose lodge woman... I mean like mature.
Emily: Mature?!
Scott: Yeah... well
Emily: Its a 97.
Scott: Wha?
Emily: The car.
Scott: Oh.. (Looking it up in his binder) You know, we don’t actually have that make in this book. To new a car. I have to call the other store in Seaside. (Looks up a number and calls) Hello. This is Scott in Astoria. Hey what's up Sam. Yes I have a young lady here with a 97 Jeep Cherokee. How much can I give her. Yeah. How's Andrew? No kidding. (Pause) Four grand. All right. What? Oh you heard about that already? Ha. Tony’s such a bastard. What did he call you to tell you what a martyr he was? It was crazy. I’ll tell you about it later. The worst part of the whole god damn thing is that I didn’t even get fired from this shit crummy life sucking soul destroying...(a loss for adjectives)...job. Yeah. Ok. Talk to you later. (Hangs up phone) What did I say that number was?
Emily: How much you can loan me?
Scott: Yeah.
Emily: I think it was five grand.
Scott: Oh yeah. I’m a bit uh... distracted. I’m haven an incredibly bad day. Just amazing.
Emily: Yeah, I’ve been there.
Scott: I don’t know. This has been extraordinarily bad.
Emily: Yeah (unconvinced).
Scott: I mean really. I almost got arrested, my girlfriend left me...
Emily: You didn’t get fired.
Scott: I despise this job. Not getting fired is the worst part.
Emily: Hell, it’s a job.
Scott: Kind of. I screw people over all day.
Emily: Are you screwing me over right now?
Scott: Well, no... well yeah. What’s the annual interest rate on this loan? 700 percent? I don’t know how people do it. Most people don’t do it, they get their car repossessed.
Emily: Maybe they just don’t have the patience to sell the damn things.
Scott: Like on your car. You could get close to fifteen grand if you sold it. If you default, you’ll be out a car... a ton of money and have bad credit.
Emily: Some people don’t have the luxury of a steady job to hate and the patience that comes with it.
Scott: You think you could do this job?
Emily: Hell. I’d love the chance. I couldn’t get your job though.
Scott: Hell, when I finally quit, I’ll put in a good word for you, you can work here and I’ll come to you with my 87’ Corolla title for my two hundred dollar loan to get my enough Ramen and meth for a week.
Emily: Two hundred wouldn’t be enough.
Scott: I’ve never been a big meth head.
Emily: You should try it. I mean you most certainly shouldn’t. You’re teetering now. I can see it. I’ve met guys like you before. You have kind of ‘emotional’ minds, and you hate everything. So I show you some tits and convince you to score for me. We get loaded and the guy turns into a monster meth head and loses everything. Meth is funny, it makes you feel like you don’t live in a shit Oregon coast town. It makes you feel like you live in the capitol of the world and everything you say is the smartest thing ever.
Scott: (Thinking) Sounds like a good place to be. (Pause) Are you going to buy meth with this loan?
Emily: Maybe. It’s not really any of your business.
Scott: Au contrar, this specifically is my business. I’m required to reject loans that seem like they might not be paid back.
Emily: Oh you don’t know anything about me.
Scott: Just what you’ve told me. Are you going to buy meth?
Emily: I don’t see why I should tell you that.
Scott: Otherwise I may have to reject this loan.
Emily: You fucking little tyrant. Give you a desk and a tie and you feel like you have authority over me. What, are your trying to save me or something?
Scott: No... I’m...
Emily: Oh your going to save me by not giving me a loan on a car. I’m going leave here... distraught... and there is going to be a break in the clouds above me and the sun is going to beam down on me through the Astoria bridge and I’m going to put my hands out and say, ‘I’m ready for you Jesus, fill the void in my cunt that meth has left behind. Ole’ Skip at the Stop Quick Loan... emporium has shown me the light.”
Scott: Ok, never mind. Give me the title. (Begins the paperwork) My names not Skip, it’s Scott.
Emily: My names not meth head wore chick, it’s Emily. (Scott looks up)
Scott: Nice to meet you Emily.
Emily: (Repeats the tone) nice to meet you Skip.
Scott: Have you done this before?
Emily: Yes.
Scott: Ok, here are the terms of your loan, do you need them explained?
Emily: No.
Scott: Your first payment is due April 9th. The minimum payment is forty two...
Emily: I really don’t need them explained... as hot as you are when you talk business, I am really in a hurry.
Scott. Ok. I just need you to sign here and here. Here. Here. And I need a photo ID.
Emily: Do I get a check or cash?
Scott: I don't have that much cash... but I can give you part cash and part check.
Emily. Give me as much cash as you’ve got.
Scott: Ok. (Counts) I’ve got fifteen hundred. And let me write the check.
Emily: (Impatient) Ok. Ok.
Scott: Here you are. You are ready to go... (Emily takes the money and check and bounds out the door). Bye?

Fade

Same place, end of the work day. The office is put back together. Nate is sitting in a lounge chair.

Scott: Thanks for coming over, Nate.
Nate: Don’t worry about it. I get off at three anyway.
Scott: How is work at the community college? Any illicit affairs with any of those fresh young bodies?
Nate: A few. I’m always updating my web site, teacherswhopet.com.
Scott: What time is it?
Nate: Uh... ten after four.
Scott: Ok. Remind me in a half hour to start counting out the register.
Nate: (getting up) This is truly a sick place. Nice furniture. A little expensive though. Lemme see. 40 bucks for 18 months. That’s kind of pricey, no?
Scott: (Assumes a mock professionally tone) Well. it may be expensive, but it’s comfy as hell.
Nate: And this one, is that real oak?
Scott: That? Yeah, real hard oak.
Nate: (Inspects) No it’s not, it’s press board.
Scott: Yes, it’s press board. You can trust me on that.
Nate: How much is this one?
Scott: Same price. It maybe expensive, but it’s uncomfortable as all hell.
Nate: Is this plant seriously for sale... yup. (Sees tag) Eight dollars a week for 18 months. Christ. This place is too good to be true. I guess it would be kind of nice to have a lot of time to... write or look at other jobs in the paper... I guess. No?
Scott: No.
Nate: I bet there are a lot of interesting characters here.
Scott: Yeah. Kinda. They get old and threatening quick.
Nate: I suppose they might bring you down after a while with out seeing normal people every once and a while. Tell me again what happened this morning. That too was too good to be true.
Scott: Not all that much happened. I made a mess, went away to get a mop, Tony came back while I was out, didn’t know I hadn’t taken the cash out, assumed we’d been robbed, I come back and there were cops here and and.... Shit. Wanna know what the worst part of it all was? I didn’t even get fired.
Nate: I’ve found one only gets fired at the worst of times.
Scott: Hell, these times are pretty damn bad for me. I hate my damn job, I hate my car, I have so damn many bills. Natalie left me... I’d get the fuck out of town, but I just can’t. To many damn bills compounding. You made it out. How’d you do it.
Nate: How do you figure I made it out?
Scott: You went to college, you went to Europe.
Nate: We are both sitting here right now.
Scott: (Pause) Well shit, I brought you over to cheer me up, and I’m getting lower.
Nate: Did you notice the bump on my chest?
Scott: I assumed it was a solo swollen nipple.
Nate: Other side. Yes, I brought a bottle. A bottle of whiskey. No money down, no payments... a one time investment on a brighter... too bright... you’ll have to wear sunglasses despite the rain... future. What if your boss comes in and you stink of Gin and grin? (Presents a pint)

Scott: Tony drinks in the bathroom. It’s more depressing than our toothless meth addict customers because he feels so dignified as to try and hide the smell with peppermint schnapps. (Drinks and passes the pint)

Nate: I had professors in college who would drink in class. There was a glamour in it then that’s some how lost on me at here at Quick Sand title loan. Ya know. With all my liberal arts edu-macation and all... how did I still manage to come out of it with just a slightly better paying job and a sincere and profound hatred of women?

Scott: Amy isn’t bad.

Nate: She may not be ‘bad,’ but she is however evil. She is part of the vast covert underground network of the universe trying to keep a poor bastard down. I’ve been trying to coax her out of this damn town for two years now?! To Portland, to Europe to Africa, any where but here. Fuck, Siberia looked good the other day. She wants to raise her children along the... shady lanes of my childhood. I keep telling her what a mistake that is. I lived my childhood and I despised it. It warped and angered me.

Scott: Warped and angered... Wasn’t all that bad.

Nate: Well, High school wasn’t bad. It sure as hell wasn’t constructive. Driving drunk, crazed with youth and possibility through the wooded roads of Greater Astoria with floozy emaciated rural girl is ‘fun,’ but so help me if my children do it, I will kill them.

Scott: Remember the time we were at the beach and you and Audrey Peterson were in the back of the Suburban screwing... but I didn’t know it and I got into the front of the car and started it up and I couldn’t hear you guys in the back begging for your clothes that were in the passenger side cause I had the music up too loud.
Nate: Yeah, we’d passed out and were awaken by Ac/Dc.
Scott: So when the state trooper pulled me over, he asked me about the naked people in the back of my car, and I had no idea, cause you guys were being quiet.
Nate: We were totally fucked. Totally speechless we were when we realized the situation. Audrey really pulled us out of a tough spot when she told him we had been hit by a sneaker wave and were too cold to wear our clothes and there was a heating vent in the back of the car. She was cool. What ever happened to her?
Scott: She’s a customer of mine now.
Nate: No!
Scott: Yup. She’s heavy now, has a loan out on a 86 mini van.
Nate: No!
Scott: Got a ton of kids.
Nate: No, no,no. I feel so old.
Scott: I mean I feel old. I’m not out of my damn twenties and I feel old and predictable and stuck... and stuck.
Nate: Me too. (Long pause, they both drink)
Nate: Ah the promise of those endless night, screaming at those dark breaking waves, feeling our manhood could conquer anything. And perhaps it could... if women didn’t turn manhood's firefly derision inside, to self self-destruct....

Enter Emily
Emily: Hello again.
Scott: Back so soon? (loser and playful because of the whiskey) Miss me?
Emily: Skip, I missed you so much...
Nate: Parting is such sweet sorrow.
Scott: Is this visit business (deliberate), or pleasure?
Emily: Well your in a better mood than this morning.
Scott: I worried about you. All day I did. I put my head on my hands like this and thought to myself, ‘Emily.... Emily... if anything happens to you I’ll just die.’
Emily: (Dubious) Well, you don’t have to worry any more. I’m here to pay back the loan.
Scott: Goody. There still is interest due... even if you pay it back the same day.
Emily: I know, I know.
Scott: (retrieving the file from behind him. The balance is 5200.
Emily: Ok. Give me a second. (from her purse she takes out a massive wad of various sized bills and counts them out, Nate leers in closer).
Scott: My my.
Emily: My my.
Nate: My my. Can I be your friend?
Emily: I see how it is. Come into a little money, and every one wants to be your friend.
Scott: See, I want to be your friend for pure reasons. We can talk about books and art and literature and... and...
Emily: I don’t like any of that crap.
Scott: I know... we can talk about how we hate them. Or we can talk about money.
Nate: Hey, I wanna talk about money too.
Emily: You two can talk to each other then.
Nate: That’s no fun, we’ve been doing it for years.
Emily: I still have the check you wrote me. Should I give it back, then the cash?
Scott: That will work.
Emily. I’m having a little trouble counting this mess, can you help?
Scott: Sure. We even have a witness. (Takes wad of money and begins to count)
Emily: (To Nate) Nice weather.
Nate: Yes, very nice. Nice. Nice and rainy. Do you like the rain?
Emily: (Strangely emphatic) I love the fucking rain. I love having a wad of money and being in the rain.
Nate: That’s a pleasure I’ve never had.
Emily: You haven’t lived.
Nate: We’ll you’ve just won the Moose Lodge Annual Sweepstakes, what are you going to do now?
Emily: (Laughs) I don't really know.
Nate: Are you gonna go to the ritzy Ocean Inn bar and tie on an expensive drunk?
Emily: I’m not old enough.
Nate: Are you going to drive to Wal-Mart and buy luxurious prizes?
Emily: (Laughs) I don’t got any where to put em.
Nate: You must be some kind of religious figure then... no physical possessions, nothing tying you to the mortal world, wandering about tempting man with your sexy balls of money.
Emily: I like it when a man calls ‘balls,’ sexy. What the fuck are you on anyway.
Nate: Nothing too much. (Leaning in and whispering) I’m a lil’ drunk.
Emily: (gleeful giggle) I am too, kinda.
Nate: Would you like a nip from my magic bottle?
Emily: Yes please.
Nate: Here you are my dear (takes bottle from Scott’s desk).
Emily: Skip drinks?
Nate: Skip does a lot of things. He’s also an avid stamp collector.
Emily: Serious? Skip? Do you collect stamps?
Scott: (counting) Uh, no. This sure is a lot of tens and twenties. What did you do? Rob a... a... help me out Nate. What did she rob.
Nate: The first National Bank of my heart.
Emily: Ewww (Playfully pushes Nate).
Scott. Ok, your settled. I just need you to sign a few thousand forms.
Nate: Read them careful. This bastard actually collects souls, not stamps. He tricks you into signing your soul away with parenthetical clauses and fine print. He’s got my soul. And my stamps.
Scott: (Maniacal laugh) And if you ever want to see them again...
Emily: What does your friend do for a living, Skip?
Scott: He doesn’t skip, no. He’s a teacher at the community college.
Emily: Yeah? What do you teach?
Nate: Oh, stuff, ya know.... stuff. Like, books and stuff.
Emily: Yeah (disinterested)?
Scott: He taught me how to ride my bike.
Nate: Gawsh.
Nate: Well this afternoon is actually turned out to be quite fun. Here we are at quick sand hefty loan in our various stages of intoxication with a beautiful young girl speaking in pure nonsense. I feel as if I’m in a play, and these over priced obnoxious furnishings are a cheap set. All the world is a stage and...
Emily: You talk a lot.
Scott: He loves the sound of his own voice.
Emily: It’s not bad...
Scott: I’ve been hearing it for close to a decade. Since High school.
Emily: How old are you?
Scott: Four and twenty.
Emily: Serious?
Scott: And your 19.
Emily: You look a lot younger than that.
Scott: I don't get out much (fake melancholy).
Emily: You should.
Scott: I should?
Emily: You will.
Scott: I will? I will.
Nate: (Whispers into Emily’s ear) He will.
Scott: What are you doing later?
Nate: Me? I’m wandering around my house with a glass of bourbon, wishing I were writing or killing my wife in comical ways... with Acme contraptions like the coyote and road runner...
Scott: Not you.
Emily: I have no idea. My future is wide open.
Scott: Serious?
Emily: Wide open.
Scott: Did you hear that Nathan?
Emily: Wide.
Scott. Wow.
Emily: What, yours isn’t.
Scott: Not so much, no.
Emily: Oh yes... this fantastic job.
Nate: Fantastic.
Scott: It’s a job.
Emily: I can’t argue that.
Nate: Ha!
Scott: You guys are picking on me.
Emily: You picked on me first! How much did you charge me for this loan?
Scott: Not me, the company.
Emily: I see how it is. Don’t blame poor me. I had my balls cut off by my boss.
Nate: Ha! I’m in love. Where were you when I was attractive young and single?
Emily: Hiding from you as you drove by in your bitchen red Camero.
Nate: This occasion deserves a toast. Scott is mortally depressed and we are rubbing salt in his wounds. It’s tough love, tough love. Hold on. (Walks over to percolator at grabs three coffee mugs and pours the last of the pint into the mugs). A toast to this pivotal moment in our lives where the challenging young ladies life is wide open and Scott and I realize it, yarn for our youth, and realize there are many roads leading away form this crummy town, yet do nothing about it but drink and yearn and gaze on her young body.
Emily: That toast sucked. A toast cash money in the damn pocket.
Scott: I like that one.
Nate: A damn Haiku if I ever heard one.
They all drink. Tony enters with a folder.
Tony: Am I intruding on something?
Nate: Yes. Please leave immediately.
Scott: Nate, that’s my boss.
Nate: Sorry. I’m Scott’s ride.
Tony: And you are?
Emily: Nobody at all.
Tony: Well then, nobody, can I ask you to wait outside for Scott?
Scott: Actually, this is Emily (Falters drunkenly) Tonyson. She is actually one of our better customers. (Tony Takes her paperwork)
Tony: Oh, I’m sorry Mrs. Tonyson. It says here your name is Anderson.
Emily: Yes, Skip hasn’t a clue. He’s a good boy though.
Tony: Yeah, I wonder.
Emily: Listen... If you fire Skip, I will take my account elsewhere. I want you to promise that as long as I am a patron of yours, you will employ Skip.
Tony: What?
Emily: As long as I’m a patron, you must employ him.
Tony: Ok.
Emily: As long as I am a patron...
Tony: Yes yes.
Emily: As long as I am a patron, you will employ him.
Tony: As long as you are a patron here, Scott has a job, unless he screws everything up again.
Scott: I was getting a mop!
Nate: This has gotten decidedly strange. Well. I think I now can face the family. It was nice meeting you miss and I’m sure the pleasure was all mine. Scott. Scott. You be good. Call Natalie. Bye Bye Mr. Boss man.
(Nate Leaves)
Scott: Yeah, Tony can you count out for me, I need to make a call. (Picks up phone and dials as Tony reluctantly counts the money) No answer.
Tony: Are you calling Natalie?
Scott: Yes.
Tony: When the police were here we called her and she said she was going to stay with her mother for a while.
Scott: The police called her? I was gone five god damn minutes. (Emily is rocking back and forth and taking great delight in all this)
Tony: Five minutes is a long damn time. I though you’d robbed the place. I still am not sure what the hell happened (Looks suspiciously at Emily).
Scott: A mop (Dials another number). Karen? Hi, this is Scott. No. No. I’m at work. No that was all a mix up. A mix up. I was getting a mop and... it really hard to explain. Is Natalie there? No? Do you know where she is? Is she staying with you? Did I just hear her in the back there? No. I will explain it all. Yes. Why don't we meet at the Brew House for dinner? I’ll explain everything. It’s actually kinda funny. It is. You’ll laugh (forces laugh). Natalie has something to tell me? Important too? A big decision? Can you be more specific? No? Yeah... uh huh... good bye. (Looks up) She hung up one me.
Emily: (Rocking back and forth and smiling) She’s pregnant.
Scott: Who is?
Emily: Who do you think, boss man here?
Scott: What, how do you know?
Emily: I know.
Tony: (Preoccupied) Where did all this money come from.
Emily: Me. The suspiciously wealthy 19 year old girl.
Tony: You took out this loan today and paid it off?
Emily: Was that today? I suppose it was. Seems like forever ago.
Tony: And this check... what the hell is doing here Scott?
Scott: Oh, Tony, I put it in the books right. It’s all legit. (Pauses) Pregnant?
Emily: I betcha.
Tony: Do you two know each other?
Emily: Only professionally.
Tony: I see.
Scott: Pregnant?
Fade


Same Set. Later that day. It’s dark. The sound of the door being unlocked is heard.

Scott: This isn’t too wired is it?
Emily: Not really. I’ve seen weirder. Is she pregnant?
Scott: Yes.
Emily: I knew it.
Scott: How?
Emily: The speech her mother gave you over the phone. I’ve heard it before.
Scott: When?
Emily: My mother gave it to a guy about a year ago. He skipped town, lucky bastard.
Scott: Oh. Did you keep it?
Emily: Nope.
Scott (long pause, sets himself into one of the sofas) It’s a funny thing I saw you in the store. What were you doing there?
Emily: Reading magazines... hanging out. I don’t really have too many friends in Astoria any more. I was gonna buy something kinda expensive, ya know, cause I could... but I couldn’t find anything I wanted.
Scott: (Pause, uncomfortable shifting) So what the hell is your story anyway?
Emily: Umm. Once upon a time... I spent the last couple of months in Eugene Oregon doing drugs with a guy in a basement. I came home, stole the car my parents tried to bribe a normal life out of me with, hocked it, scored a shit load of meth, sold it to a bunch of fishermen, now I’m here with you in this god damn wired fucking place. The end. The moral is... don’t count your chickens before they’ve...(looking for something more witty) hatched.
Scott: Shit. How is Eugene Oregon? Hear its where all the crazy political people are.
Emily: Maybe. I think it’s a lot of stoned college grads talking out their asses. Like your friend earlier.
Scott: Where else have you been?
Emily: I went to Sanfransico and LA before Eugene. the guy I was with was running meth. That's how I scored what I got. I called up an old source of his.
Scott: Where is he now?
Emily: I don’t know. I guess South somewhere. He was talking about Medford. I was going to come home and kick. Didn’t happen.
Scott: It didn’t? Oh. I see.
Emily: You ever done it?
Scott: Meth?
Emily: Yeah.
Scott: Yeah.
Emily: No you haven’t.
Scott: Yeah I did. I mean I was already pretty fucked up at this party.
Emily: What happened?
Scott: I was up all night puking.
Emily: What? That’s a bad first impression.
Scott: I’d been drinking a lot of whiskey.
Emily: You like the whiskey.
Scott: Yeah... you like the meth?
Emily: Mike always used to say, ‘fuck man, what ever gets you through the night.’
Scott: Simple, but true. Mike is the guy? (She nods) That's what I was doing at the store. I was gonna buy me some cough syrup, some pornography, some beer and a TV dinner, go home drink the cough syrup and sleep like an innocent man.
Emily: Sounds like a date with Mike.
Scott: Charming.
Emily: I don’t know. It worked in the beginning. It was kinda nice, having a place and a man to crash with. Taking care of shit, washing the clothes and shit.
Scott: Yeah, I remember my first apartment. It was in a Quad... so we shared the shitter and kitchen. I remember putting up posters and feeling so old and professional... going shopping. I remember the first time I went shopping I bought all this weird shit I couldn’t actually make anything out of... like Catsup and Mustard and ramen... all this shit that seemed like a good idea. That very night I had to go to McDonalds because I couldn’t make anything.
Emily: I can’t cook for shit. Mike always cooked when we ate. We didn’t eat all that much though.
Scott: I kinda taught myself. It’s funny I ran into you at the store. I was feeling really god damn low. Natalie and I used to have so much fun shopping. We’d sing at the top of our lungs to the Muzak, throw things at each other... ride crazy on the shopping cart. We’d get good and lose on cheap martinis or tequila before we went out... and just have a damn good time somehow. Shit.
Emily: Breaking up stinks.
Scott: I don’t know that were broken up. I mean it was a misunderstanding.
Emily: Do you love her?
Scott: Yeah.
Emily: You answered pretty fast.
Scott: What do you mean?
Emily: You didn’t think about it. A shit eating grin didn’t come over your face and you didn’t blush. Do you love her?
Scott: Well, no then, if love is that corny.
Emily: Yeah, I guess. Everything is pretty corny. Look at this furniture. It’s pretty damn corny. Do people actually buy it?
Scott: Ya know they do.
Emily: Why? It’s so damn expensive. I mean, forty dollars a month for 18 months. Who can do that? Really?
Scott: Well, some people have fucked up their credit so bad and they don't have enough cash on hand to buy the thing new at Wal-mart, so they buy from us. Or they keep it for four months then give it back. Actually, that’s what happens more often than not. They just keep it for a while, pretend it’s theirs.
Emily: (slumping over a couch) Pretty corny.
Scott: Yeah, it’s weird working here. It’s like this is a living room or something. People are coming into my house to beg me for money. God damn I hate this job.
Emily: I’ve never had a job in my life. Is’;t that weird?
Scott: Not even in high school?
Emily: Never.
Scott: (Walking over and sitting at his desk) How did you do it?
Emily: My dad is Navy and he always gave me plenty of money. And when I was in trouble, I’d steal it. Out of high school I started hanging out with guys who sold drugs. I don’t know that I could have a job now. I’d have no references, nothing like that.
Scott: Your not the first in your situation. You’d find something quick enough.
Emily: Then I worry I couldn’t... do the routine. What if I’m in a bad mood or something and I don’t want to go to work? I mean a job monopolizes so damn much of your fucking time.
Scott: Your telling me. You wanna know what I really want to do?
Emily: What?
Scott: Write.
Emily: What? Poems or something?
Scott: Scripts.
Emily: Like movies?
Scott: Yeah. I want to write movie scripts about people on journeys and shit.
Emily: On journeys?
Scott: Yeah. Have you ever read On the Road?
Emily: Read while on the road?
Scott: No it’s a book. On the Road. By Jack Keroak. It’s about these guys going across country and finding themselves and the spirit of America. They are headed to California. On the way they do drugs and meet all kinds of crazy people. It’s amazing.
Emily: Sounds like my life. I fucking hate my life.
Scott: No see, they don’t have anything and they rely on other people who are like them... all over the country. And they end up hitching rides, pissing off the back of moving trucks and...
Emily: Done all that. I’ve been on your amazing journey.
Scott: Really?
Emily: Yep. I rode the rails down to La. It took for ever and it was a fucking chore. The train we were on just stopped in the middle of fucking no where for a whole day. Me and mike were just hiding from the Bulls all day. And it was in this mountain pass, so it was way fucking cold. On they way back we hitched with a trucker. Mike made me give teh trucker a hand job and he fed us. Ya know, it wasn’t that glamourous. (long pause, Mike looks disillusioned) Is this what people in my home town do? The same people who picked on me in High School? Sit around and wish they were me?
Scott: I don’t know.
Emily: (Gets up and explores the office as Scott looks blankly at his desk) What's this? Oh, it’s a plastic plant. I can’t believe that's for sale. Oh, a hot plate. I’m hungry. DO you wanna go get something to eat?
Scott: Uhh. Sure. I just bought a lot of food. Do you want me to cook for you?
Emily: Well, what do you got?
Scott: I can make you... (Walks over to the bags he’s left by the door) How about Spaghetti?
Emily: From a can or something?
Scott: No, from scratch.
Emily: On a hot plate?
Scott: Oh yeah... maybe I should go a little more simple. I got turnips... that was an impulse buy... chicken... TV dinners... um... I don’t know.
Emily: (Bounding up) Ya know what, this is my treat. You sit down, I’m going to play house wife and make the TV dinners in yonder microwave.
Scott: You sure?
Emily: Yes. You sit down and read the paper. Find me a job.
Scott: Ok. (Walks over to the couch)
Emily: I feel so housewifey. Lemme see (squints a the TV dinner box) ok, I think I can do this.
Scott: It’s pretty complicated. Put box in microwave. Turn microwave on. I mean I see there are two steps there and it’s easy to get lost.
Emily: Hey, you wanna eat? Stop fucking with the cook. I’ll kick your ass.
Scott: Sorry dear. (he puts his feet up on the coffee table) Can you hand me the paper, love?
Emily: Fine. This one?
Scott: (Not looking at her, he has his hands behind his head) I just bought one, it should be with the groceries.
Emily: (looking, takes out a magazine and a newspaper from bag and throws the magazine on his lap) There’s some big articles in that one.
Scott: Opening the magazine fold out. I see that. Here’s something on Bush. Yup, here’s something on Dick Armey.
Emily: (Now throwing the newspaper on his lap) Find me a job.
Scott: What, there are classifieds in this newspaper. (Turns to the back) See; Get paid for sex. You’d have to work for me... but I’m a good boss. Here, exotic dancers needed. Again, you’d have to work for me. I could schedule in at both jobs. Hey, there’s an idea. Quick Stop Title loan and exotic dancing.
Emily: No one would pay to see you dance (struggling with the TV dinner).
Scott: I was talking about you.
Emily: Your frisky all of a sudden. Is it me being your house wife that’s turned you on?
Scott: It’s these news stories about Bush.
Emily: Do you want a Salisbury stake, or a Mexican Fiesta?
Scott: They both sound so appalling, I mean appealing. You choose.
Emily: Do you want a glass of wine?
Scott: Please.
Emily: I need an opener... a cork screw.
Scott: I got one on my pocket knife (Gets it out of his pocket and walks over it her and gives it to her).
Emily: I think your going to have to open it, you big strong burly man (hands back the pocket knife, their hands linger).
Scott: Sure. (Takes bottle of wine from the bag and tries to open the bottle quickly and fails. Moves the bottle to between his legs and pulls. This too is unsuccessful. He turns his back to Emily and the audience and pulls and strains).
Emily: Doing all right skip?
Scott: (Straining) Yes. Yes. I need a nick name for you. (The bottle opens and in the process Scott punches himself in the face with the hand holding the corkscrew)
Emily: Oh (Laughing) are you alight? Oh. Your bleeding.
Scott: I like to make strong capable impressions (holding his nose which is bleeding).
Emily: Come here. Oh sit down. (She leads him back to the couch). Keep your chin up, I’ll run and get some paper towels. (She scampers over to the other door which is the bathroom, comes back with toilet paper) Hold this here. Gosh, it’s really comming out. Did you break it.
Scott: God I hope not. I don't have any insurance. Fuck!
Emily: Oh you silly thing, let me see. It doesn’t look broken. Lemme get more towels. (She returns with damp towels and dabs his face in a maternal fashion) You are very silly.
Scott: Yeah (Muted and nasal because of his awkward position). I prefer the word ‘dashing’ to silly.
Emily: Oh, it was an accident, these things happen.
Scott: Something as idiotic has happened to you?
Emily: Sure. I can’t think of anything quite so absurd right now.
Scott: Well, at least it’s funny.
Emily: Don’t get mad.
Scott: No I’m not. I’m really saying it is kinda funny.
Emily: Good. Has it stopped bleeding? let me see. Nope. Lemme get more towels.
Scott: I’m sorry.
Emily: Oh don’t be (returns with towels, gives them to him). Here, lay back on me. (he does)
Scott: I’m such an idiot.
Emily: Shhh. You are not.
Scott: Is this real? Is this my life? Look at all this. This place... it’s all so stupid.
Emily: Shhh. It’s ok.
Scott: Is it? I’m so pathetic. Look at me. I have a shitty studio apartment with a view of the dumpsters. I broke my nose opening a bottle of wine.
Emily: Shhh. Darling, your not making any sense.
Scott: I mean, God. What a day.
Emily: It’s not so bad. When shit gets really bad, laugh. Maniacally.
Scott: Have I just blown it? I mean I felt like such a fucking corny mess telling you about my god awful script ideas... and now look at me.
Emily: If you don’t stop whining, I’m going to get offend.
Scott: Why?
Emily: Maybe I’m enjoying your company.
Scott: (Pause) Well, if you weren't here right now, I’d probably be dead.
Emily: You don’t have the balls to kill yourself.
Scott: (Pause) Your right.
Emily: Oh, don’t whine again...
Scott: No, your right about the other stuff. Ok. I am officially cheered up. I’m gonna cut the corny whiney bullshit now. I’m not even gonna apologize for doing it. I’m a new man.
Emily: There you go.
Scott: Damn right. I almost feel like I should burst out in song. (Sits up and smiles into her eyes)
Emily: Lemme clean you up one more time. (gets more towels) Here. (dotes, he loves it. An awkward pause happens when she finishes as if she wants to kiss him, but the big red bloody nose is putting her off) You still want that wine?
Scott: Damn right. I’ve earned it.
Emily: (Walks over and pours two glasses and brings them back to Scott who has succeeded to be leaning back) A toast?
Scott: A toast. A toast to toast?
Emily: (Fakes laugh) New beginnings?
Scott: I certainly hope so. Here (Crosses the hand he’s drinking with with hers in old fashion toast style). New beginnings. There's a church in town called that. What the hell are you going to do now?
Emily: How do you mean?
Scott: Now that your in town? Do you have a place to stay?
Emily: No.
Scott: What was your plan? Where were you going to sleep?
Emily: Sleep isn’t really a concern of mine. If I’m I high, I don’t really need to sleep.
Scott: How long has it been since you’ve slept?
Emily: Well, I take naps.
Scott: Wow. Are you looking to work in town?
Emily: I don’t really know.
Scott: I guess you can stay with me.
Emily: I don’t want to think about it.
Scott: (pauses) ok.
Emily: I don’t want you to think about it either. I like it here right now. Lets pretend this is my apartment, and you’ve come over to fix my washing machine.
Scott: Like in a porno?
Emily: Sure. Hey, do you want to...
Scott: (Bashful) What?
Emily: You know...
Scott: Gash, I’ve never been asked.
Emily: We’ll there is a first time for everything.
Scott: (Giggly) Ok. (leans in to kiss her).
Emily: Not that .
Scott: Oh. I’m sorry...
Emily: Come into the bathroom with me.
Scott: Ok (still confused).
Emily: What did you think? (She leads him by the hand into the bathroom and close the door. Their voices are now muffled and distant, but audible). I haven’t even eaten the dinner you’ve bought me. First thing is first. Come here. (Silence. then Scott is heard making strange noises of ecstasy. The lighting in the room which was subdued suddenly becomes remarkably lighter when they open the bathroom door.) That’s better.
Scott: (grinning) Yes indeed. I see, I see.
Fade.
Later that night.



Lights are brighter still. What sounds like an amplifier turned up all the way is heard. Not the buzz of a poorly grounded connection, but the strange faint hiss, only now it is at a very high volume. In silence the two interact; Emily continues to fix dinner, Scott sits at the couch with his feet up reading the paper. Both have an content and aware look in their eye. Emily finishes the meals and finds cutlery in a drawer. She deliberately sets the table. Scott takes great interest in various news stories. When Emily is finished setting the table and placing the food out, she walks over behind Scott and gently puts her hands on his shoulders. She leans in and speaks something softly in his ear. The two sit together and eat, looking at each other with a look of either crazed love or something else. As the lights fade, the sound continues into the next scene, when it slowly abates.

Fade

It is early the next morning. All the furniture has been rearranged and there is evidence of an eaten meal and a lot alcohol consumed.


Scott: Amazing.
Emily: What.
Scott: I don’t know.
Emily: I see.
Scott: (Walks over to the door and gazes out) That was the longest and shortest night of my life. I feel like I know you so well, but I realize I don’t know your middle name.
Emily: I’ve never thought there was that much to know about people, just that you can really take the... lonely edge out of life by spending time with them. I betcha never had so much fun with a girl with out fucking her.
Scott: That may be true. I can’t believe that this place will be my work again in an hour. I wonder If I’ll crash today. I can usually spend a couple days awake if I’m just drinking. What are you going to do today?
Emily: I dunno. Maybe I’ll look for a job.
Scott: You are? You’re gonna stay here in Astoria?
Emily: It’s a good town, and I’m tired. I think I can work. I don't think I will work, but I’ve never thought I could work before... you know what I mean?
Scott: (Disheartened) I don't know. You can use me as a reference if you do go looking for a job. What if you don’t get a job? Then what?
Emily: I don’t know.
Scott: Would you maybe want to go for a ride North?
Emily: Where?
Scott: I don’t know. Mike is South, maybe we could go North.
Emily: (Laughs) With you? What if I said I wanted to stay so I could be with you.
Scott: Well, what if I said I wanted to leave to be with you.
Emily: (Thoughtful pause) well then... I guess we misjudged each other.
Scott: Well, probably not. At least I don’t think so. I don’t want to think about it.
Emily: (Walks over and sits at the desk) Why not?
Scott: We just met... I mean, maybe we shouldn’t force it.
Emily: Well, meth kinda speeds life up. Meth heads live like the light bulb that burns so bright just before it goes out. We know each other pretty well.
Scott: Well, if your like me, you’ll despise this town before long, go crazy.
Emily: Oh, you don’t hate this town, you hate yourself and how you fit in thins town. Stay and be a better man here. Like earlier tonight when you said you were in a better mood. Get in a better mood.
Scott: I don’t know.
Emily: I’m telling you to get in a better fucking mood. Don’t be a bitch.
Scott: I don’t know.
Emily: Well God damn it, I’ll tell you. (She walks up to him at the door) Earlier this evening I wasn’t going to stay. I was gonna leave this morning. But bull shitting with you all night made me feel like I could be somewhere with out being a God damn wore. I felt like I could talk to some one about something other than drugs or sex or something. I want to talk about dinner and bills. I want mail to come to my address. I want to know people know me. I want my creditors to know my middle name. Out there, I wasn't anybody. Pan handling or selling drugs or fucking assholes, I was just cunt. I’m tired of that. I want to be more than a cunt. I don't know what the fuck I’m saying. I’m not saying, stay here and marry me, or stay here and support me or even stay here and talk to be ever again. I’m saying that if you go hit the road, you’ll be as sad as you are now because your just a whinny bitch asshole. You think like is an adventure some one else is having. You think that if you could just bow out graceful of what you’ve got... you live some screen play life out there. You wont. You’ll get cold and have no where to sleep. You’ll get a tooth ache and have no one to look at it. You’ll get lonely... so lonely you cant sleep. All that crap will happen. I want to stay here. In one place.
Scott: I don’t think I can.
Emily: Fuck you. (She kisses him)
Scott: You are beautiful.
Emily: Your a fucking corny prick.
Scott: What if we went to Seattle and started over there?
Emily: Fuck you (Distressed, she kisses him again). I don’t want to look at you right now. You make me sick (She grabs a few things lying around and goes for the door).
Scott: Emily. Wait. Just wait.
Emily: No, fuck you. Fuck you. (Leaves)
Scott Stands amazed for a time. Paces briefly, then begins to clean the room.
Fade

Morning.
Scott is sitting in his chair. He is wearing the same clothes as the day before. He is desperately trying to stay awake. He keeps nodding off and catching himself. He yawns gigantically, then sees he’s drooled on himself. He sits up straight, stretches and leans back in his chair. Then he leans back in his chair. He does not fall. He plays with the balance of his weight on the leaning chair. The phone rings and he does fall.


Scott: Quick stop title loan and... this is Scott speaking, how may I help you? Natalie baby, Hi. I’ve thought about it, yes. Well, it’s more complicated than just an answer... I mean. An answer? To the question? No baby, I’m not stalling. No... um, what are you doing tonight? Last night? Oh yeah, I didn’t go home, I was feeling kinda low. Where? (Shit) Nathan's. Oh no, I was there. See, I asked him to lie. Yeah. So he did that for me. Where am I staying tonight? I don’t know. I actually was thinking about going to Portland. Well, it’s Friday, and these last days have been driving me nuts. Sure... if you want to, I’ll be here. Bye. (Hangs up phone, looks at watch and paces)
Enter Nate
Nate: What up?
Scott: Christ, Natalie called you last night?
Nate: Yeah, she wanted to know where you were.
Scott: I was there last night, ok?
Nate: Where:
Scott: There, when she called.
Nate: Your not making sense.
Scott: When she called, I was there with you.
Nate: You don’t look so good, are you wearing the same thing as yesterday?
Scott: Listen, Natalie is coming over soon, and I need you to lie to her and say you were with me last night despite the fact you already told her you were. So I was there, get it?
Nate: (Pause) Ohhhhh! Did you and jail bait hook up?
Scott: Maybe!
Nate: Ohhhhh! My my my. Scott. Scott? What a turn for adventurous you’ve taken. Was she good?
Scott: Nate, it’s not like that.
Nate: Oh bullshit, you can tell me, I’m the lecherous community college professor, remember. Christ you’ve scored. Every time a girl brushes against me it’s grounds for dismissal. I don't suppose their is a book of title loaners moral code, is there? You can get it on with every toothless meth head you meet. You remember I was talking about Lisa? Well when we were caught in...
Scott: This is serious, I need you to tell her what I told you. I need some time.
Nate: For what? Seems like you’ve got plenty of time. Your savoring every last moment before Astoria suddenly and massively changes into a thriving metropolis.
Scott: I’m trying to leave.
Nate: (Pause) Bravo. (Pause) Bravo.
Scott: I’m trying to get jail bate to go with me.
Nate: Get a horse, and ride with her into the sunset. Wait, there’s only ocean to the west. Don’t do that, it’d spoil the mood.
Scott: (Pacing) So you think its a good idea?
Nate: I think the horse Idea is excellent.
Scott: No, jack ass, leaving.
Nate: Scott, I do. Why the fuck not. Drop me a line or two and I’ll live vicariously. Take jail bate to La, find a shitty apartment and suffer contentedly together.
Scott: There’s one problem.
Nate: What?
Scott: I think she wants to stay here. I think she really does.
Nate: Christ. Well, I’ve often considered Astoria to be a jail. And her being the bait and... Why does jail bate have to come? Why is this such a drastic decision? Why am I about to lie to Natalie? Why does it burn when I pee?
Scott: I don’t know. I think I’m going to lose my mind. That why.
Nate: Once it’s gone, it’s a lot easier to carry on. I think your having this It’s a Wonderful Life Syndrome. Astoria is your New Bedford Falls. You feel trapped and mired. It’s like your one of those derelict fishermen whose afraid to go over that Columbia river bar again... it’s like there’s a million metaphors to describe you...us, but no one telling us what the fuck to do. (Pause) See, Scott, if you keep depressing me like this I might have to slap you.
Scott: Is it stupid to say I love her?
Nate: No... well, it maters who your saying to. If it’s to Natalie, I wouldn't be surprised.. you’ve said that many a time before. If it’s to Emily, well, you’ve just met. But by the looks of you, yall spent the night In one drawn out bout of coitus. If it’s to me, it is stupid to say I love you, because you know I’m sworn to celibacy.
Scott: Emily.
Nate: It was Bob Dylan who said, ‘She never stumbles, she’s got no place to fall.’ I always thought he was talking about himself when he said she.
Scott: What?
Nate: He meant he when he said she.
Scott: He meant he when he said she?
Nate: He did.
Scott: He did?
Nate: (Darkening) So when you say I love her, I think your talking about yourself. I think you might be the villain in this little caper. It’s your decisions which will decide the sanity of two beautiful young ladies.
Scott: Who do I want to hurt?
Nate: It sounds like hurting yourself is out of the question.
Enter Natalie
Nate: Hello! (Morbid Glee)
Scott: Hi (Melancholy)
Natalie: (Pause) Nate, was Scott with you last night.
Nate: (vexing expression) yes.
Natalie: (Pause) Scott, where are you staying tonight?
Scott: (Same vexing expression) Yes.
Natalie: Oh this is all a big fucking joke to you.
Nate: Don’t say it ... Say it Scott.
Scott: It’s overwhelming baby, I don’t even remember why you left.
Natalie: Oh you don’t, do you?
Scott: (Stands and approaches her) Baby, I don’t know what to say. (She sits defensively in a chair that seats one, Scott goes and sits across form her in a couch)
Enter Tony:
Nate: Good evening Tony. Have a seat.
Tony: Christ. Scott, what the hell is going on here?
Scott: (pause) Listen, there isn’t anybody here... I’m here alone all damn day, with out a lunch break, I can take a break and talk to my weeping girlfriend, and you can just not spaz out and not call the cops for once. Lets take a time out from the vast importance of the title loan biz. (Tony looks as if he’s just waiting to retort, when the right one comes as he goes over to the filling cabinets)
Nate: Yeah!
Scott: Natalie, I don’t know why you even left, and now your acting like... I cheated?
Natalie: Scott: I just don’t trust you, I don’t know what your thinking.
Scott: All the more we have in common. What if I told you I feel a little crazy and I need you to just not be... so dramatic. That’s the last rational way to be in Astoria. The god damn bridge is going to be here tomorrow.
Nate: And it will most definitely rain tomorrow.
Tony: Shit, I hate the rain.
(All three look at tony as if this is the last place he should be)
Tony: Scott, where are the cash out sheets?
Scott: In a minute.
Tony: I need them right now, because I’m going to Portland for the weekend and I need to leave right now.
Scott: Just a god damn minute.
Natalie: Get the stuff for him Scott.
Scott: In a minute. Do you know what I mean, Natalie?
Natalie: About what? You don't want me to be dramatic... or in love or what?
Scott: Just that I’m thinking, these thoughts.
Tony: Scot!
Scott: Christ. (Stands up, walks over to Tony, looks him in the eye, Tony backs down, Scott looks incredulously down at the desk, and picks up the first piece of paper he see) Is there anything else you need? Want me to scratch your nose?
Nate: He he (Nate takes a comfortable position one of the chairs). Tony, how much is this beaut?
Tony: $315.
Nate: I only want one of em, not a dozen.
Tony: That’s the price.
Nate: Couldn’t you cut me a deal?
Tony: I wont throw you out.
Nate: Hmm, you drive a hard bargain.
Tony: I know.
Nate: Tony?
Tony: What?
Nate: I love a man who drives a hard bargain.
Scott: (Walking back to Natalie) Baby, if I were to say I got a better idea...
Enter Emily
(Silence falls over the entire set. Emily Looks proud and deliberate as she walks over to the desk where Tony is sitting. Nate finally lets out a giggle)
Tony: Well hello again.
Emily: Howdy.
Tony: What can I do for you today, or would you prefer to do business with our star employe... only he’s in an important meeting right now in the board room.
Emily: No, I wont be needing skip. I will be needing money.
Tony: Well, we do that sort of thing here.
Emily: So I hear.
(Nate stands up proudly and dramatically)
Nate: I suppose you’re all wondering why I called you here tonight. One of you is a murderer.
Emily: Only one? Tony, same as before. I got my eye on an apartment (Scott is listening). The crestview. They got one bedrooms they’re trying to rent immediately. Cash will get me in there tonight.
Tony: Yeah? Well, please sign here and here. I’ll just need to fill out some paper work.
Emily stands and begins to walk the room. All eyes are on her. She walks over to where Natalie sits, dabbing her eyes)
Emily: You must be Natalie. I’ve heard a lot about you from Skip. (Extends hand to shake Natalie's) You sound like a great girl, really great. (turns to Scott) Skip, did you hurt her feelings? (Scott fidgets on the couch he’s sitting on) Oh Tony, I want that couch too. Yeah, the one Skip is sitting on. Can you deliver it?
Tony: Sure. Skip will bring it over right after work.
Nate: (Giggle) I suppose your working late tonight, Skip?
Scott: Yeah... This shouldn’t take long. Can you take Natalie out to the Brewery and I’ll meet you at, say 6:30?
Nate: Sure, it’s Friday, I’ll drag the wife and kids out. We’ll have a grand old time hiding in the bar while the women talk trash about us at the table and the children scream. Ahh... my Bohemia.
Scott: Thanks. Natalie. I’ll see you soon. Well have a good time tonight, then we’ll talk with straight heads, yeah? (nervously trying to get rid of them) Ok? See ya soon (follows them to the door). See Tony, I told you we were bound to sell some furniture.
Tony: You told me we were never going to sell any.
Scott: Who gets the commission?
Emily: Scott really made that sale earlier. He showed me a few things on and about it.
Tony: If you say so. I need two more signatures and and... here's your money (counts out a wad) and your first payment is due in two weeks. You can go home and Skip...Scott will bring your sofa around in a few minutes.
(Emily Smirks as she leaves)
Scott: Can I get my commission before the weekend?
Tony: Yeah sure. (Give Scott some cash) You better make it right with Natalie, she’s a good kid. I’ll close up while your delivering the sofa. Let’s get it out to the van.
(They both pick up the sofa and maneuver it through the door)

Fade

One Hour Later
All the furnishings from the last scene are pushed back. A black curtain falls to obscure them. Hung on the curtain is a picture. Its a drawing tacked to the ‘wall.’ Emily is pacing here, unpacking a bag, taking her clothes and realizing she had no where to put anything. Scott appears with the couch delicately balanced on a hand cart.

Emily: Oh it’s the delivery man. And I’m here, all alone and available. I think I’ve seen this movie. Gimmie your couch you big strong man.
Scott: Where do you want this big ugly fucker?
Emily: Don’t call my couch a big ugly fucker. I’ve already named, it, Skip. I’m gonna call him, Scott. Get it? Cause he’s so helpless and women just come and sit and fart on him.
Scott: Uh. Why are you so mean to me?
Emily: Cause it turns you on.
Scott: And I gather it turns you on too.
Emily: Maybe. How do like my place?
Scott: Cozy.
Emily: Well, I love it, it’s my first. I’ve paid three months in advance, so I have that much time to get me a job. Know any one hiring.
Scott: Yeah, Quick Stop. I told you I’d put in a good word.
Emily: (quieter) So you are going.
Scott: I think so.
Emily: You know what a chicken shit that makes you?
Scott: I don’t think it makes me a chicken shit. I’ve lived here all my damn life. It’s about time I left.
Emily: Yeah, cause that’ll make you all better.
Scott: (Pauses) Well, I’ve delivered the damn thing, maybe I should leave.
Emily: No. Stay a minute. Stay. I have... refreshments.
Scott: I need refreshing.
Emily: What will you have?
Scott: Whata' you got.
Emily Walks off stage.
Emily: Come look.
Scott follows. Lights go up as before, the hissing sound returns. The two return to the couch, only Scott is holding a bottle of whiskey. They sit in silence for a while. They pass the bottle. Both turn to the other at different times as if to join in a spontaneous embrace that does not come.
Emily: I have a plan to solve both our problems.
Scott: Yeah? What is it?
Emily: We both just sit here, like this, for the rest of eternity.
Scott: Ok. That sounds perfect. (He reaches his hand out for hers. They hold hands, facing forward. They sit for a while) Emily?
Emily: What?
Scott: I do want to sit here forever.
Emily: Problems solved.
Scott: But what about when we have to go ut and get food?
Emily: I don't eat, do you?
Scott: Or work?
Emily: Bah. If we can’t see the outside world, it must not exist.
Scott: Emily?
Emily: What?
Scott: Emily?
Emily: (In a mad dash pounces on Scott, pinning his arms down) What, asshole?
Scott: Emily?
Emily: Yes!?
Scott: (Pauses) Or we could stay like this forever.
Emily: You are not leaving tonight.
Scott: I’m not?
Emily: No, your staying right here, on this damn couch that i’m spending 48 dollars a month for...
Scott: Plus interest.
Emily: Because I’m paying for it, and I’m gonna use it damn it.
Scott: But...
Emily: You buy things, you use them, you don’t bitch about their cost. I always eat everything on my plate, because there a children starving in Oregon who have nothing to eat at all.
Scott: Em...
Emily: Shut up. (Pause) I don’t really have anything to say, I just know you have something to say, and I don’t want you talk at this very second. You can again in a few seconds. (She leans down and kisses him, they stay like this for a second). Ok, now you can bitch about something.
Scott: Well, you don’t leave me very much to talk about.
Emily: That’s right.
Scott: (pauses) Ok. (In one move, rolls out from beneath her and jumps back on top of her, holding her arms down) So you want me to stay
Emily: S...
Scott: Here i in this apartment with you, maybe for a night, maybe for a few months, maybe for ever. What if NAtalie has a kid? What if you start to hate me? You keep trying to prove to me how strong you are, which makes me believe all the more how weak you are.
Emily: I...
Scott: Which then again makes me wonder how incredibly weak I am to be constantly beaten by you. And what a sick tendency I have to want to be beaten. Ha! So imagine if you will that we have sex, right here... or sorry, make love. And then what? Maybe we do it again, maybe we smoke cigarettes in silence, maybe we sleep. Then in the morning we go out to breakfast and read the paper. We meet some people, we make fun of each other in front of them, get irritated at each other, take it out on each other in bed... we work, we play, we go to the beach with the dog we found... we go shopping and we live life normally. But then we start to want things, more money perhaps... maybe some toys like tv’s and dvds. We want to go out to different places. And irritated sex isn’t enough. We stop getting turned on by our power play. Then what?
Emily: we...
Scott: Eh?
Emily: We...
Scott: Eh?
Emily: (Pauses) We...
Scott: Eh? Sorry, go ahead.
Emily: Then, and only then will I run away with you.
Scott: (Gets up and paces) Christ. Well put. (Emily sits up and fidget's with her nails).
Emily: What is this? A prenuptial? Why can’t we be impulsive?
Scott: I have a job as a credit counselor. All I do all day is watch people make hasty long term decisions that they come back to me and beg me for money. Now lets just for shits and giggles pretend there is a similarity between love and title loans... Interest keeps people coming back to us. Interest keeps me in love with you.
Emily: I’m flattered.
Scott: I’m in love, be flattered by that, and not what bullshit comes out of my mouth before and after I say that. (Pause) As you get older, it seems as if they take things away from you that make you free and impulsive they take your name when you sign it too much... they take your money if you spend it before you have it. It all closes in... closer and closer until your trapped in a little box... but you realize your not alone in that box, there’s a woman there with you. And because we’re territorial humans, we naturally grow to hate who ever is stuck in that confined space with you. That is Natalie for me.
Emily: So you want control.
Scott: I want... (pause)
Emily: I want too.
Scott: Maybe I’m afraid your in nesting mode and you want me there, or a man there. And I am a man. I am the man you get trapped in a box with. And then you hate me.
Emily: It’s your thing. You’ll apparently hate me.
Scott: No... no. That’s not it at all.
Emily: I think you hate Natalie. that’s the only thing going on right now. And it really fucking pisses me off that she’s the only thing we talk about. So fucking what? You got problems? I’m the god damn homeless run away addict, and were talking about your problems? Fucking A!
Scott: Look at you, though. You’re straightening out. Christ, you have an apartment, soon a job.
Emily: yeah, call me Martha Steward. Like my decorating?
Scott: It’s stupendous.
Emily: What did you and Natalie talk about in the beginning?
Scott: Of our relationship?
Emily: Yeah.
Scott: Music. Umm. I was in a band, We drank a lot too. We were impulsive.
Emily: So... the exact opposite of what we are doing now?
Scott: How so?
Emily: We’ll we just sit there negotiating all fucking night. If I kiss you, you have to give me Atlantic Ave. and two railroads...
Scott: (Long pause as Scott paces) K. I got it. I have a rational and finite question to ask you that will determine the fate of us. It is legalese, so pay close attention to what I say, and how I answer. I need you to ask me a question, word for word, the same as I ask it to you... only I have to answer first. So, say to me: Scott, will you stay here and love me, or will you disappear when or if the relationship becomes purely functional?
Emily: Wait, what?
Scott: Say, Scott, will you stay here and love me, or will you disappear when or if the relationship becomes purely functional?
Emily: Scott? Will stay here with me or will you go when the relationship is boring.
Scott: Yes.
Emily: Which?
Scott: Emily, will you stay here and love me, or will you disappear when or if the relationship becomes purely functional?
Emily: Yes.
Scott: Tada.
Emily: (Stands up, goes over to Scott, walks up behind him and holds him) So your staying? Or is this all just bullshit?
Scott: Yes.
Emily: Prick.
Scott: I guess. Hell I work at a title loan, of course I’m a prick. Well, I’ve ditched everybody at the brewery. Ha! Nate will understand.
Emily: You can write screen plays here, I’ll set up a desk. It will be your writing area. Your lil’ place that’ll I’ll avoid... except to clean... and except when I’m looking for pornography or drugs or whiskey... or when I’m feeling nosey.
Scott: You got an all right view here. There’s Commercial street. Yup... and there goes Dan. Drunk ole Dan. He drinks with us at the bar. Ole Dan is always so drunk you can’t understand what he’s talken' about mostly. But every now and then he recites poetry, some of it old, some of it his own. He’s from Montana. Shit, he fell. Nope, he’s up again. Dan came here thirty years ago with his ex wife. She moved away, and now he lives off disability and drinks cans of Bush all day. (Pauses)
Emily: Scott?
Scott: Commercial street turns into Highway 30. You know where that ends?
Emily: Where?
Scott: All the way on the other side of the country is Philadelphia. Come here Emily.
Emily: I am here with you now. (They embrace)
Fade

Many Days Latter
Quick Stop, like it was before minus the couch. Scott again is at his chair, fidgeting. He begins to tap on his yellow pad, writing a little, then scratching it out in frustration. He he turns his chair to look at the clock. He then intentionally spins in his chair a few times, and likes it. He takes his chair out into the middle of the room and begins to spin. He gets going fairly fast and begins to giggle. The phone begins to ring, and he stumbles over to it, knocking over his cup of coffee on the desk. He sits at the desk.

Scott: Quick Stop title loan and paycheck... this is Scott. How can I help you?
Lifts his yellow pad out of the pool, doesn’t know what to do with it. Tries to contain the mess.
Scott: Yes. Uh huh. Yes. Will I what? Can you repeat the whole question... actually I missed the whole conversation. See I had an accident here and...

Stands up and realizes he has a giant stain on his pants. While continuing the phone conversation, he looks around, then takes his pants off.

Scott: Yes. I actually can’t answer that with out the vehicle here. So if you want to drop by. I’m sorry. Thank you, bye.

Scott goes into the bathroom with his pants. Comes back out of the bathroom and locks the front door. AS he heads back for the bathroom, there comes a knocking at the door.

Scott: We’ll be open in ten minutes.
Delivery Person: I have a package to pick up.
Scott: Can you come back?
Delivery Person: Not till Monday.
Scott: Are you sure?
Delivery Person: Yes.
Scott: Ok. Pardon my looks, I just made a stain on my pants so I took them off.
Delivery Person: Oh... that’s fine. Umm. I just need the package.
Scott: Uh, yes. Hold on. (Grabs box sitting beside the desk) Here.
Delivery Person: Fine, can you put it down for a sec? I need you to sign a few things. (She sits on a couch) WHere is it? THere we are, um... (Gestures to Scott to sit next to her to sign) Sorry.
Scott: No problem.
(Nate comes i the door)
Nate: Jesus. all right Scott, you have to get me a job here. I mean... sweet Jesus.
Scott: No... she just needs my package.
Nate: I wont say anything. Do you want me to come back?
Scott: No, wait.
Delivery Person: Thank you. Have a good afternoon. (exits)
Nate: Well damn it, your still here. I thought yo were gonna take jail bait on the road.
Scott: No, we are gonna stick around for a while. She got a job, I have to pay down a few debts first, then we’ll be free.
Nate: Yeah.
Scott: I’ve been writing a lot too, so I’m thinking of sending it off.
Nate: Yep yep yep yep.
Scott: (Goes into bathroom and retrieves his pants and puts them on) And she’s registered in Beauty School so she’ll have a trade, ya know... some thing to fall back on.
Nate: (Sits in Scott's chair and spins idly) Yup yup yup.
Scott: So were thinken' in a 6 months or so. She’s talking to her parents too. They are pretty nice.
Nate: Well, you’ll be around for Katie’s birthday next month (Sullen sigh).
Scott: Yup. Does your wife like Emily?
Nate: Amy loves all drunken loan shark friends and their under age meth head girl friends. She specifically wants to expose her children to you two as much as possible.
Scott: (Putting things in order on the desk) Yeah, she’s sweet. I should do more paper work here, but it can wait till Monday. Money isn’t so tight living at Emily’s. We’re looking at cars. She doesn’t want that jeep. It makes her guilty. I’ll leave this mess till Monday too. I’m thirsty, lets get out of here.
Nate: Yeah, lets go. (Leaves)
Scott puts a few things in order, looks around the room and turns out the light and leaves.


The End

time time

Not that I care, or am even affected by any of it. Still.
The ugliest thing I've seen done to my generation is time stolen from us. We are like oysters in a farm, raised to shucked. We are sedentary, dependant on the baby boom for the meager jobs they wont do. The hypocrisy is the free spirit the baby boomers claimed to value.

I worked in a cafe once, It was supposed to be the 'cool,' place to work, but it was ugly. Once a cook beat his girlfriend on the clock and the owners didn't have the balls to confront him. It ended finally when he went to jail for statutory rape charges. All the while, every employee there thought they had some special lifestyle, when really they were wasting their early twenties. Ugly ugly. I see how it happened. Those kids with their young beautiful eyes dipping their toes in the pain of life when they tried to leave, then came running back to this terrible dank job and it's regularity. Ugly ugly.

I am not a special person, but somewhat antiquated in my attitude that I can leave any town, any state. The tragedy is I never forget these folks chained to the routine eroding the singularity and uniqueness of their brief lives.

I'm pulling up stakes again. My alcohol reeking circus of misspelled words and unruly pit bulls might be coming to a city near you.


P.S.

When you let James beat Liz on the clock
I thought surely this bull shit would stop
but then you tortured Darci...
your Dairy Queen hardly
ain't worth the effort to knock