An imaginary conversation about cell phone etiquette

Oh my God, no, don’t stop. Why did you stop?

Seriously? You’re checking your phone?

What?

I’m leaving.

Wait, don’t…why?

Why? Are you fucking kidding? Do you think I’m a blow up doll and not an actual live human who might have feelings?

We’re in the middle of something.

Yeah, but apparently we’re not both in the middle of doing the same thing.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Put your fucking phone down.

Why are you so mad?

Because you are checking text messages while I suck your cock, and for some strange reason that upsets me. What the fuck is wrong with you? Who does that?

No, I wasn’t…

And now you’re lying about it.

I apologize. It’s work. It was important.

You’re busy. I know. But you aren’t a doctor on call. You aren’t waiting to hear if your client’s stay of execution has been awarded. If you are so married to work that you can’t even pretend to pay attention to me while we’re in bed, then why I am even here? Work is more important.

Please don’t cry…

Do you have any idea at all how this feels? It’s degrading. It makes me feel like I am only here to service you. I might as well have a coin slot. At least then you’d pay attention so you get your money’s worth.

That isn’t true–I love you. You know i do. I’m just really busy at work right now, and it’s invaded my personal life You know you’re important to me!

Do I? I have been trying not to complain about it. I know it’s crazy right now and I want to be here for you. But you don’t get to act like I don’t even exist without dealing with me being upset about it. If your priority is work? I can give you some additional time for it by not being here any more.

No…I do want you here. I just…

What?

I just don’t have any time for myself or anyone else.

I know. And I could be somewhere with someone who does have time for me. But you are the one I love. Even when you are being a douche.

I’m sorry, I really am..is there anything I can do to make it up to you?

Be with me when you’re with me. I’m going to go downstairs and make some tea. Wrap up your work shit and join me. If you can’t, let me go home where at least if I feel lonely and neglected it’s because I am actually alone.

I’ll be down in a few minutes.

Maybe you will. Maybe you won’t. We’ll see.







An imaginary conversation about television

Hey..so…do you have any idea why there is a 100 foot wide television in the living room?

100 foot wide? That is pretty big for a 15 foot long wall!

It’s enormous. It’s larger than the actual physical space. I am pretty sure it has disrupted the time/space continuum in some very nasty way in order to get into our home. It could even be some sort of evil invader. How did it get into our living room?

I bought it and had it delivered.

Why? We already had an unnecessarily large TV.

Sports. Movies. Your naked Swedish vampires.

Sports? We always go to bars.

Now we won’t have to.

We like going to bars.

We can watch movies on a bigger screen. And don’t forget naked Swedish vampires!

Naked Swedish Vampires would be an excellent band name. And don’t think your ploy to distract me is working. I wasn’t unhappy with the size of the unnecessarily large TV we already had. And..where might that be?

In the bedroom!

No.

Yes. I put it in the bedroom.

I will be taking it right back out.

Why???

Because bedrooms are for sleeping and sex. Reading. Not for television.

I like to watch TV in bed sometimes.

Then have one put in your room. I don’t want one in mine.

My room? I don’t have a room.

You might soon.

Because of a TV!?

Because what we have here, Cool Hand Luke, is a failure to communicate.

Uh oh.

Uh huh.

So what should we do?

I was thinking I could be irritable and hard to live with for several days and then take the TV out of the bedroom, put it in your office and then forgive you.

That sounds like kind of a bummer.

It really does. I hate being irritable, and I like it when you’re happy. It sucks. We don’t get into any really good fights.

We could fight about your unreasonable red shoe habit…

You don’t have the moral high ground right now. You might want to save that for next time.

Damn.

Wait a second. That enormous thing in the living room isn’t supposed to be my birthday present, is it?

It was a surprise.

Well, shit.

You’re welcome.

I do kind of like naked Swedish vampires…they are probably even more awesome with 20 foot penises.

20 foot penises would also be a great band name.

It would!

Does this mean you’re skipping past the part where you were going to be irritable?

Well, I do love getting presents. The other TV is still coming out of our bedroom though.

Damn.

I’ll make up for it somehow.

Really, I should be the one making a special effort. For your birthday.

I’ll put some champagne in the fridge.

Do you think you are dealing with an amateur?

I do not deserve you.

Ditto.

Imaginary conversation about cats

How do you feel about cats?

Cats? You know how I feel about cats. I hate cats.

Hate is such a strong word.

What did you do?

Do? What do you mean what did I do?

Did you get a fucking cat?

I don’t think a cat would be fucking, necessarily. I mean, one cat? It wouldn’t even be possible for it to..

Did you get a non-fucking cat?

Why would I get a cat? You hate cats.

I’m starting to hate you, too.

Are not. You love me. It doesn’t matter what I do. You can’t help it. Even if I bought a cat, you’d love me. An expensive cat. A fancy Dijon cat. Why are you pretending to bang your head against the wall?

You suck.

I do. That’s one of the reasons you love me.

Incorrigible, you are.

I really am.

So.

So?

The cat.

What cat? There is no cat, Neo.

Oh, good.

But if there was a cat, rhetorically speaking…a black one, with a white Hitler mustache. How would you feel about it?

Bad. I would feel bad.

Why would you feel bad about a rhetorical cat?

None of this even has a point, does it?

Why do you look so discouraged? You keep saying I should talk more. I’m practicing.

To other people. You should talk more to other people.

Other people don’t understand when I talk about imaginary cats.

Rhetorical.

See? You do understand me!

I…oh, God. I did understand that. And stop smiling.

It makes me happy when people understand me. When I’m happy, I smile. You like it when I’m happy, don’t you?

I do.

I didn’t get a cat.

That’s a relief.

I got 2 pairs of shoes instead. Red ones.

Of course you did, because you couldn’t get a cat.

No one understands me like you do, baby.

What did you get me?

Vodka, a bag of grapefruit, and a very nice pair of argyle socks. I accidentally turned all of the grapefruit into juice, so we should probably start drinking it right away. It’s practically an emergency.

You understand me pretty well, too.

You wouldn’t have looked nearly this happy if I’d gotten a cat.

I’d still be pretty happy.

Because I’d still have bought you the vodka. Probably an even better one…

We’ll go with that.

I knew what you meant, George.

I know you did, baby.