Category: Imaginary Conversation

An imaginary conversation about Steve Miller

You should totally write something about Steve Miller.

Steve Miller?

Like about Jet Airliner

Why would I write about that?

I love Jet Air Liner!

Well, I don’t have anything else to write about that isn’t depressing.

See?

What the fuck would I have to say about Steve Miller? I like his music well enough, I guess, but not enough to write about it. I shouldn’t be allowed to start drinking until I have written 400 words. I am uncreative after being plied with wine all evening.

You could always miss a day.

No I can’t. I need to make it until mid-July to make a whole year.

How do you come up with ideas? I don’t have 365 ideas.

Me either. That’s why I will end up writing about a conversation about not writing about Steve Miller.

It could be worse. You could be writing about ABBA.

That’s an awful thing to wish on me!

It wasn’t a wish. It was an attempt to force you into committing an act of gratitude.

Act of gratitude would be a good band name, or even blog title.

I am a little “over” gratitude as a topic.

That seems like a bad idea.

So, Steve Miller.

Fuck. What the fuck am I going to say?

I already told you–talk about “Jet Air Liner.”

No. I don’t even know the words!

You could skip a day.

I suppose Google could find song lyrics.

Oh good. I can’t wait to read it!

I am so screwed. Do you have Jet Air Liner on your iPod?

Of course!

You win.

An imaginary conversation about name calling

This conversation would be a lot more fun if you were participating in it.

I’m sorry–what were you saying?

Oh, never mind. It isn’t important.

No, really. What is it?

The moment has passed, it’s OK.

Don’t be like that.

Like what?

Petulant.

Petulant? Thanks. I was trying to be considerate since you are working. It just wasn’t worth repeating.

What do you want to rant about now?

Want to? Actually, I didn’t want to. Hence the “never mind” and “not important.”

You are being kind of passive aggressive, don’t you think?

Considerate would be the word I’d use. I’m apparently on some sort of petulant yet passive aggressive roll today. I appreciate you letting me know about it. I might never have known otherwise.

If you tell me that wasn’t sarcastic, I will punch you in the nuts.

I don’t have nuts.

Willfully missing the point? Can you concede sarcasm and being overly literal?

Conceded. IF…

If?

If you will concede that you are acting like a dick and apologize for referring for referring to the person who asked you if you wanted a glass of wine as petulant and passive aggressive.

You were offering me a drink?

I was. I tried asking you several times.

Is it too late now?

It depends on the sincerity of your groveling when you apologize.

I’m sorry, but I am not very good at apologies. Or groveling.

Or listening. Wow, you aren’t kidding about not being good at it. You must not want any wine. Or a salty dog. Or a blow job. Like, ever again.

Maybe I should practice a bit and try later. I like all of the things you just mentioned. A lot.

Uh huh. I mean, sure, you can get a bartender to bring you the drinks…but I am not going to be tolerant of someone else taking over sexual favors.

OK. You’re right. We can fix this. I am thinking of an offer that you might find acceptable.

Seriously? You are going to try to make a deal to get out of apologizing?

It’s my nature to make deals. I think we can make this into a mutually beneficial transaction.

Let me hear it.

I will provide an adequate but not stellar apology, then I will bring you a drink, and take you out to dinner.

We were going out to dinner anyway. Apology, drink, dinner wherever I want to go here in town, I get to pick the movie and we both put all electronic devices away for the night.

Agreed, with a few amendments: if we need to look up something related to the movie, we are allowed to do so if we put the phone away immediately. And we bring a phone in the car in case of emergency.

Deal. I’m a little surprised you didn’t try for any sexual favors. Or offer any.

That was very civilized of us. I’m very sorry I called you petulant and passive aggressive. You are neither, and I love you.

That was very good. Apology accepted. Please ask the bartender to bring me a tequila greyhound while I consider dinner.

Oui, Madame. I hope Madame will be happy with the service in this establishment.

The waiter smells really good…do you think he puts out?







an imaginary talk about shit and ideas

How do you find something different to write every day? Don’t you run out of ideas?

I am always one post away from my last idea. I feel like I repeat myself sometimes and have to search back and make sure I am not plagiarizing myself.

What will you if it happens?

What I always do!

It already happens?

All the time.

So what do you?

First I check my notes.

Notes?

For ideas. If I am in the car, or see something online, or overhear something unusual or noteworthy, I try to write it down.

That’s very writerly.

Nah, it’s just my lousy memory. I’d never remember any of my ideas if I didn’t write them down. But then I still run out of ideas and have to make something up. And if all else fails, there is always an imaginary dialogue.

You make those up?

Uh, “imaginary”?

Right.

Sometimes they’re based on a real conversation. Sometimes it’s a conversation I wish would happen. Sometimes it’s just one sentence that someone says that comes to mind and I invent shit around it.

Like what?

Like the other day at a BBQ, Shayla asked what I write about. I said “random shit” and she wanted to know more. So I said “like when your Mom and I were talking about colonoscopies and bowel preps during dinner, and you told the enema story. I suspect that will go in somewhere.”

You were talking about enemas and colonoscopies during dinner?

Well, in my defense, my mother is a nurse. I have no conversational boundaries at meal time. She used to tell enema stories at holiday dinners.

You could do a funny blog about shit.

Shit is always funny. It’s kind of obvious though, so I am saving it for an emergency.

Good idea.

Someday I am going to use the line that sometimes the random shit I write is literally about shit. I can’t figure out how to fit it in.

Well, shit is pretty flexible.

Much like a colonoscope.







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