Showing posts from January, 2022


SOURCE MEDIA   SONY “CLEAR VOICE PLUS”  MICROCASSETTE-CORDER M-450 /  TDK MC60 MICROCASSETTE /  TWO “UNKNOWN” PATRONS  (IDENTIFIED  AS “A” AND “B”)  OF CHICAGO COFFEE CADRE  (STORE #7)  BEGIN PLAYBACK  PATRON A   So many times…  So many times…  So many  mother effin’ times…  the “For Rent” sign?  Yeah.  Or the ad?  It’ll tell ya: call .  Call …  for the rental rate.  Call?  PATRON B   Mm-hm.  PATRON A   Why?  Why waste your time?  Why waste my time?  Why?  PATRON B   Hm.  PATRON A Is it ever really negotiable? If you wanna rent the place, you’ve gotta pay what the slumlord wants you to pay. Right? Anyways, it’s usually the goddamn janitor who shows you the dump; and it’s not like this dope has the power to negotiate anything. And here’s a guy, the goddamn janitor guy, who, nowadays, he’s always got a title more, more, what? Politically correct , if not, at least, more, more ego-boosting than the title of “janitor.”  PATRON B   Yeah. PATRON A   No, no: He’s not the “janitor,” he’s


RESUME PLAYBACK  PATRON B   They probably just want —  PATRON A   I’ll tell you want they want. They want to “show off” the place — all the “amenities.”  PATRON B   Yeah, well —  PATRON A They throw up a ceiling fan; call it, “Completely Rehabbed.”   PATRON B  I’d like a ceiling f —  PATRON A   Buddy, buddy, buddy: We’re talkin’ a moldy, paper-thin walled, “studio” apartment, barely big enough to pull a futon half way out. My ass it’s “completely rehabbed.”  PATRON B   Yeah, I dunno. Completely? I wouldn’t —  PATRON A   And on the rare occasion it’s a “rental agent” who’s there to greet you, it’s always somebody who failed, or could only fail, at selling used cars. [ Alters voice: ] “Oooh, yes, note the Casablanca ‘Stealth’ High Performance ceiling fan. That there’s brushed nickel. With platinum blades. And a hundred-watt Halogen bulb.  Just... look at it…  whirl …  with such…  youthful…  vigor .”  PATRON B Ha.  PATRON A “And don’t forget the shiny hardwood floors! Stare long en


RESUME PLAYBACK  PATRON A   And they always want you to say “Yes” before they give you the price. Why? Well, it's key. PATRON B The — ? PATRON A That's right. It's the key. The key to selling anything. Don’t ever let the mark ever say, “No.”  PATRON B Mm.  PATRON A   Like at the gym. They always want you to sign up for a personal trainer. Or when the phone company badgers you into buying the latest in voicemail technology. And don’t even talk to me about car dealerships.  PATRON B Yeah. Dealerships.  PATRON A   So many people want to sell you this great thing, this great service. Never mind what you can afford.  PATRON B Uh-huh.  PATRON A Or… maybe… Maybe I’m a space alien. Because, me? If it costs too much? I’m not buying it. End of story. End of conversation. You go stick your installment plan up your rump. Right up in it. Jam it up in there. Your five, ten, thirty thousand “easy” payments of nineteen ninety-five. Screw your “First Month Free.” What, after the first month


RESUME PLAYBACK  PATRON A Lookit.  Me?  My point of view?  We don’t need more... consumerism.  We don’t need more... communism. All we need...  is…  common... sense.  We’re this Always In Debt Society.  Why?  PATRON B   Wh…?  I…  PATRON A Because we so easily bore.  We’re bored, our kids are bored.  And, unlike the dog, we’re not content to fetch a tossed stick every thirty seconds.  PATRON B   No.  PATRON A   Then again, maybe if our spines allowed us, whenever the urge struck, to blow ourselves? Maybe it’d be a different world.  PATRON B   Um.  PATRON A Imagine a world in which sucking yourself off was as commonplace as sneezing. We all gotta service the urge. Yeah? Bad things happen when you don’t. But say you couldn’t sneeze in public. Say it was somehow illegal. But say you could — just for shits and giggles — say you could blow yourself in public. Without shame. Like it’d be no worse than farting loudly at a funeral service. No worse. Listen, listen : When you sneeze? You’r


RESUME PLAYBACK PATRON A   Not all of us, but a lot of us, or enough of us to make a difference, we don’t know what to do with our free time. Heh. “Free.” When time’s not “free,” what is it? What’re we doin’? What’re you doin? PATRON B Me?  PATRON A  You.  Everybody.  Everybody who’s not a shut-in.  Everybody who’s not a vegetable.  PATRON B I, uh —  PATRON A   You’re prostituting yourself. Yeah? Yeah. Or tryin’ to. Makin’ all the moolah you can. But when finally you’re forced to call it quits for the day, what’s to do then?  PATRON B   Well. I —  PATRON A   We’ve —  some of us —  we’ve made all this money. Or just enough. Now what?  PATRON B   I like —  PATRON A Some folks? What they’ll do is they’ll sit around and they’ll marvel at it. Or… so to speak. They’ll spend hours reviewing and tinkering with their, what, their “portfolios.” Ooooh. “Portfolios.”  Some’ll even brag. You know. whoever will listen. You name-it-captive audience. I dunno, like a cabbie. Like a bank teller. Like a