Sunday, September 28, 2008

the price of infa-ME

TIME: approximately 3:15p, Saturday
PLACE: my place of employment -- The Diner

The Characters:
ME: a twenty-something server/student
HIM: a forty-something customer
irrelevant young man (IYM): irrelevant

(the scene is set in a crowded diner, sounds of clattering plates, glasses, people eating. The scent of eggs is heavy in the air, during the tail-end of the brunch rush. ME strides over to HIM, business-like, but pleasant. HIM is seated with another young man, irrelevant to the scene. Lights focus on the two.)

ME: Hi there! How ya doin'?
HIM: Good, good! My friend and I were looking to grab a bite to eat and get drunk. Well, I'm going to get drunk because I'm a shitty human being who hates himself. I'm also a washed up actor who teaches acting to other people. My work has been produced. You've never heard of me? Well, no matter. (Gestures to the irrelevant young man). He'll start with a salad.
ME: Great! That salad he wants to order is delicious.
HIM: I'll order a bottle of wine.

(ME fetches the salad and bottle of wine. ME, HIM, and the IYM chat about the establishment and theatre in a jovial manner. HIM is particularly animated. ME is attentive, but professional.)

IYM: (finishing his salad) Do you know what time it is? I have to go very soon.
ME: Almost 3p. Will you be needing the check?
HIM: No, not yet. IYM will be leaving, but I plan to stay and order an expensive meal and another bottle of wine. After that, I will convince you that I am a decent human being, directly before I excuse myself to have a cigarette and then skip out on the $100 bill. You will be upset, possibly for hours, but I will remain the shitty human being I am, unaware of the repercussions and unconcerned with your feelings.
ME: Okay, sounds good. Let me know if you need anything else. I'll be back to check on you and make sure you've enjoyed your dining experience, because after having conversation with you, I am genuinely concerned with your comfort.
HIM: Thanks. I'm a piece of shit.
ME: Enjoy your dine-and-dash.


Analysis: ME is an average person, attempting to do their job, to the best of their ability. ME inherently trusts the structure of business and everyone that walks within that structure. HIM is dishonest. HIM believes that there are no consequences for their actions and successfully deceives ME. ME is left with a sense of neglected responsibility and spends several hours after the scene Googling every detail HIM mentioned during their conversation. ME is left with nothing but a series of lies and the possibility of losing their tips for the day, in order to pay for HIM's bill. ME is devastated, not over the money, but the idea that HIM would go to such great lengths to deceive ME. After a day or so, ME decides that every person they come into contact with is inherently deceitful, and treats them as budding criminals. ME begins to question everyone's intentions and becomes spiteful and vindicative, eventually turning into a person they never intended to become. HIM is gone, yet ME sees HIM everywhere.

What the heck is WRONG with people?

Saturday, September 20, 2008

The Architect and The Urchin

whoa. again, an amazing experience. i want to regale tales of triumph and disaster, because both occurred amidst this game, but i fear i'm a bit of a mess right now. my limbs don't want to work the way they should, possibly because i used them faaaar too much during the event.

i want to talk about how i hopped my first fence. and how i ran like a lunatic. and how i jogged for close to 3 miles, and trekked for 7. there was a cardboard gondola and a new friend. there were awards. the whole experience, was more invigorating than i can write. i would have to use an exclamation mark to punctuate every sentence, and everyone know how annoying that is!

i loved every second of it.

it was different enough from "Journey" but similar enough to have a base to use for plotting out the route, the sacrifices, and everything else.

my EVERYTHING hurts right now. my body grew new muscles, specifically to hurt. but i feel great, and i can't stress that part enough. there is nothing quite like participating in something community-based that is strictly entertainment.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

gone gone gone

all gone. nothing left but a cramp in my leg from the drive and a vast pit of loneliness in my stomach.

i drove to milwaukee to say goodbye when what i really meant was, "i'll see you later."

i'm taking this really hard. much harder than when any of my other friends have left chicago for places that are more miami-new york-australia-like. i can't quite comprehend that he won't be available for a taco or a late-night coffee jaunt. i can't figure out what i'm going to do when i need someone to bring me soup or go to an andrew bird show with.

or the symphony.
or a tom waits concert 8 hours away.
or to help me move.
or to write terrible music with.
or to call when i'm very, very sad.
or very, very happy.

or any of it.

i feel like i just gave up my left hand; the strong hand, the one that i write with, eat with, flick people off with.

i'm glad i went to milwaukee to say my peace. i will miss him and i know that things have changed, perhaps not as dramatically as i suspect, but i'm preparing for 'drastic.' we said our goodbyes and promised each other that we would take care of ourselves, but i sincerely believe we made that promise because we know we can't take care of each other anymore.

i'll keep up my end of this bargain if you keep up yours, man. much love.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

he leaves.

he goes to europe.

he is my best friend.

i can't quite decide how to be happy for him, though i know i should be.

i'm a bit of a mess right now.

i love him, dearly, fiercely, wholly and frustratingly.

i wish i didn't love him so much.

i wish i knew how to act.

i wish he wouldn't go.

i wish him well.

the games we play

i played journey to the end of the night. i will play the architect and the urchin. i played freeze tag, hide and seek and sardines last night.

it was a hoot.

i can't believe people do this kinda thing.

how was i not informed earlier? why aren't you doing this?

i hid in the onion patch in the middle of the Art Institute's garden. Trust me, it's waaaaay more fun than it sounds.