Allen from I.T. often wore his purple shirt with his purple tie, black pants, and green Doc Martens – especially on days when he thought he might bump into Janis from payroll.
Monthly Archives: September 2014
Hallway Pass
In a hallway two people, Sean and Beth, co-workers, walk toward each other in opposite directions. As they reach each other and pass:
BETH: Morning, Sean.
SEAN: Morning, Beth.
Both exit, then reenter walking past each other again.
SEAN: Oh, hey, again. (smiles)
BETH: Yeah, hey… walking, walking, walking. (laughs)
Both laugh, both exit, then reenter walking past each other again.
BETH: Hey, there; hi, there; hoe, there!
SEAN: Ah ha, we meet again! (laughs)
BETH: Yeah, (fake voice) fancy meeting you here!
SEAN: Yeah, yeah. (they pass) Everything going good, today?
They stop, but don’t turn turn to look at each other, then both exit, then reenter walking past each other again.
SEAN: (barely audible) Hmm.
BETH: (clears throat)
Both exit, then reenter walking past each other again. Nothing, not even looking at each other.
Again, both exit, then reenter, catch a glimpses of each other, turn and exit quickly; repeats, repeats; and then.
Pause. Then they reenter. Slowly walking up toward each other again.
SEAN: Look.
BETH: Yeah. I know.
SEAN: It’s just a hallway, and you shouldn’t talk to me and I shouldn’t talk to you.
BETH: There should be know talking, I agree. But I was fine until you asked a question. What’s with the question. NO ONE ASKS QUESTIONS IN THE damn HALLWAY.
SEAN: I know. I know. But you started talking too soon. You can’t talk too soon or it’s like begging a freakin’ conversation out of the other person. If you talk too soon, I gotta ask a freakin’ question.
Pause. They look into each other eyes and kiss. Make out. Dropping papers and folders and messing up hair and clothing. Then they separate, back up a pace or two, pick up, straighten out, and look lovingly into each other eyes, then:
BETH: Morning, Sean.
SEAN: Morning, Beth.
Both exit.
END
Dirge of Virginia Beach
O, Virginia Beach, Virginia, O
You southernly southern summer vacation
You oceanly ocean family destination
With your bulging, belching, tattooed tourists
Who eat and drink and shuffle down your board-less boardwalk
With their sunburned, sugar-comma kids dragging behind
O, Virginia Beach, Virginia, O
What state you are in
What commonwealth you bring
To your sand which is rough, uneven
To your waves that are small, even
For your bald, old man surfers peeling away
Trying to get it up just one more time
O, Virginia Beach, Virginia, O
80 percent located at the corner of white and trash
Where every tiny block has an endless buffet
An bottomless cup, a bucket of funnel cake
Deep fired, in a cone, on a stick,
Dipped in chocolate and covered with sprinkles
O, Virginia Beach, Virginia, O
Your tee-shirts read as if you could read:
(and I quote, these are real tee-shirt quotes)
“Shut up and Die!”
“I Pooped Today!”
“Number One Sexy Gramma!”
“The South Will Rise Again!”
“Jesus is my Lifeguard!”
And
“Bitch Wants My Dick!”
O, Virginia Beach, Virginia, O
A great beach book-ended by US Military Bases
A human tannery where the fit fit between where the unfit sit
A thin stretch of sand that finally got its religion right
There is no god but Neptune
There is no god but Neptune
There is no god