Categories > Original > Humor > Five Minute Soap Dish
Chapter 2
As Steve tightened his coat to keep the heat in, Nick drummed his fingers on the wall outside. Although he didn't seem to care if it was moving, it was blatantly clear that Nick knew he was in a queue.
"So, when you decided to go to a club tonight, which lapsed brain cell is responsible for you thinking it would be something I'd enjoy?" he asked.
"Other people enjoy it."
"Yeah, they see the fantasy of meeting their one true love, or their one true passionate night of lust. I see the reality-three kids and a loveless marriage."
"You'll have fun. We'll meet people, get to know them, dance a bit-"
"All things I find particularly irritating," Nick answered, nonplussed with Steve's thoughts, "For God's sake, I don't like talking to my friends that much-why d'ya think I'd enjoy talking to strangers?"
Steve finger poked Nick in the chest, punctuating his sentence, "You are just being unfriendly."
"No," Nick pushed Steve away, "I'm being honest. No one enjoys that chit-chat crap we go through when meeting people, except you all go through it in the possibly vain hope of getting a glimpse of tit. I just don't see the positive side out weighing the bad side."
Steve knew he had inadvertently set Nick off on a rant, and tried to prevent it by saying nothing. But the stimulation had been too strong.
"Do you honestly enjoy hearing about Suzie, who's finishing a law degree that she only started because she got the marks? Or how about Tammi, who works as a waitress but still has the deluded notion that someone will hear her singing while she serves and make her the new pop sensation," he said, raising his voice to a level disturbing to people in his surrounds, "People in these sort of places are arguments for weaker gun laws."
"Shut up," Steve hissed. Nick was about to continue when he noticed the number of people staring at him, and the range of emotions they were expressing-from surprise, to anger.
"Not you of course," Nick said, "All those other people in the club. Those who are already inside."
People seemed to accept that, and returned their attention to the not yet moving queue. Nick, meanwhile, returned to drumming his fingers on the wall.
"You didn't have to come with me. You had an offer from Gia."
"Please, you need me here."
"I do not!"
"Firstly-there's only one thing worst than going to a club, and that's going to a club on your own. I let you do that now, and it's only a short jump to comb overs, Hawaiian shirts, and schoolies in your thirties. I can't let that happen to you. In ten or twenty years, maybe, but now, I can't let that happen."
"I like Hawaiian shirts," Steve mumbled.
"And then secondly, there's what you plan to get out of this event. You'll either pick up some gullible girl with little individuality and low self esteem, who you'll coerce into doing things she's ashamed of doing. Or, more likely, you'll end up failing to achieve that task, and get hideously drunk. In that case you'll need my help to avoid fights," Nick said, thinking deeply before adding, "Oh, and to pee. Or have you forgotten my wonderful collection of clothing, rugs, bedding and psyches that Steve has soiled? Quite popular on ebay you know."
The line shifted oh-so-slightly, and the two stumbled forward.
"So, what're you going to do about Gia, then?" Nick asked.
"How do you mean?"
"She's not an idiot, Steve. You're working close together with her every Friday. Eventually she'll realise you can't stand her, and then where will the show be?"
"I'm planning that it won't come to that. I think she'll leave of her own accord, while at the same time not blaming me for her leaving. You know how good I can be at convincing people to leave with irritating, yet non-offensive behaviour. What's my record now?"
"Three engagements, six Christmasses, twelve "Meet-the-parents" and a christening."
"See-no one has ever beaten that."
"I don't think anyone particularly wants to," Nick said, giving Steve a glare, "Listen closely. You're my friend, but so is Gia, and frankly, I've known her much longer. You do anything harmful to her, in any way, and I'll make sure you suffer. And you know I can do it well, or do I need to remind you of the child actors I hired. You know the ones who would walk up to you on dates and call you "daddy"?"
Steve nodded, and they resumed their waiting.
After a while Steve piped up, "I think you'll like this club. There's a range of people from all walks of life coming here."
"Which definition of all walks of life are we using? Mine?"
"What? Academics, working professionals, CEO's, the unemployed, low paying workers, and first generation migrants? I don't think so."
"Oh, so by all walks of life you mean: school leavers, students, asians, whites, lebanese, newly found bisexuals and pregnant women?"
Steve little out a small grin, "Collect the set!"
Nick groaned.
As Steve tightened his coat to keep the heat in, Nick drummed his fingers on the wall outside. Although he didn't seem to care if it was moving, it was blatantly clear that Nick knew he was in a queue.
"So, when you decided to go to a club tonight, which lapsed brain cell is responsible for you thinking it would be something I'd enjoy?" he asked.
"Other people enjoy it."
"Yeah, they see the fantasy of meeting their one true love, or their one true passionate night of lust. I see the reality-three kids and a loveless marriage."
"You'll have fun. We'll meet people, get to know them, dance a bit-"
"All things I find particularly irritating," Nick answered, nonplussed with Steve's thoughts, "For God's sake, I don't like talking to my friends that much-why d'ya think I'd enjoy talking to strangers?"
Steve finger poked Nick in the chest, punctuating his sentence, "You are just being unfriendly."
"No," Nick pushed Steve away, "I'm being honest. No one enjoys that chit-chat crap we go through when meeting people, except you all go through it in the possibly vain hope of getting a glimpse of tit. I just don't see the positive side out weighing the bad side."
Steve knew he had inadvertently set Nick off on a rant, and tried to prevent it by saying nothing. But the stimulation had been too strong.
"Do you honestly enjoy hearing about Suzie, who's finishing a law degree that she only started because she got the marks? Or how about Tammi, who works as a waitress but still has the deluded notion that someone will hear her singing while she serves and make her the new pop sensation," he said, raising his voice to a level disturbing to people in his surrounds, "People in these sort of places are arguments for weaker gun laws."
"Shut up," Steve hissed. Nick was about to continue when he noticed the number of people staring at him, and the range of emotions they were expressing-from surprise, to anger.
"Not you of course," Nick said, "All those other people in the club. Those who are already inside."
People seemed to accept that, and returned their attention to the not yet moving queue. Nick, meanwhile, returned to drumming his fingers on the wall.
"You didn't have to come with me. You had an offer from Gia."
"Please, you need me here."
"I do not!"
"Firstly-there's only one thing worst than going to a club, and that's going to a club on your own. I let you do that now, and it's only a short jump to comb overs, Hawaiian shirts, and schoolies in your thirties. I can't let that happen to you. In ten or twenty years, maybe, but now, I can't let that happen."
"I like Hawaiian shirts," Steve mumbled.
"And then secondly, there's what you plan to get out of this event. You'll either pick up some gullible girl with little individuality and low self esteem, who you'll coerce into doing things she's ashamed of doing. Or, more likely, you'll end up failing to achieve that task, and get hideously drunk. In that case you'll need my help to avoid fights," Nick said, thinking deeply before adding, "Oh, and to pee. Or have you forgotten my wonderful collection of clothing, rugs, bedding and psyches that Steve has soiled? Quite popular on ebay you know."
The line shifted oh-so-slightly, and the two stumbled forward.
"So, what're you going to do about Gia, then?" Nick asked.
"How do you mean?"
"She's not an idiot, Steve. You're working close together with her every Friday. Eventually she'll realise you can't stand her, and then where will the show be?"
"I'm planning that it won't come to that. I think she'll leave of her own accord, while at the same time not blaming me for her leaving. You know how good I can be at convincing people to leave with irritating, yet non-offensive behaviour. What's my record now?"
"Three engagements, six Christmasses, twelve "Meet-the-parents" and a christening."
"See-no one has ever beaten that."
"I don't think anyone particularly wants to," Nick said, giving Steve a glare, "Listen closely. You're my friend, but so is Gia, and frankly, I've known her much longer. You do anything harmful to her, in any way, and I'll make sure you suffer. And you know I can do it well, or do I need to remind you of the child actors I hired. You know the ones who would walk up to you on dates and call you "daddy"?"
Steve nodded, and they resumed their waiting.
After a while Steve piped up, "I think you'll like this club. There's a range of people from all walks of life coming here."
"Which definition of all walks of life are we using? Mine?"
"What? Academics, working professionals, CEO's, the unemployed, low paying workers, and first generation migrants? I don't think so."
"Oh, so by all walks of life you mean: school leavers, students, asians, whites, lebanese, newly found bisexuals and pregnant women?"
Steve little out a small grin, "Collect the set!"
Nick groaned.
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