down in me

“Pardon me… Pardon me. Oh, I’m sorry. I just hit you with my bags, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, watch where the fuck you’re going!”

“SORRY! Ugh!”

***

“Pardon me… Pardon me. Oh, I’m sorry. I just hit you with my bags, didn’t I?”

“No.”

“Oh. Oh, I thought I hit something…”

“I said no.”

“Oh. Um, alright then.”

“Look, you didn’t hit me, okay.”

“Oookay.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

***

“Pardon me… Pardon me. Oh, I’m sorry. I just hit you with my bags, didn’t I?”

“Ow! Yes, that hurt tremendously.”

“Oh? Oh. Um, I’m really sorry.”

“How sorry?”

“Ummm…?”

“Sorry enough to go for a coffee with me?”

“Huh?”

“Coffee shop. Next stop. Down the road. You can buy me one if it will make you feel better?”

“Yeah… Yes. Yes, that would be lovely.”

***

“Pardon me… Pardon me. Oh, I’m sorry. I just hit you with my bags, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but that’s quite alright.”

“I feel that you are cool.”

“I think you are really cool, too.”

“Tell me more things about me. I like when you talk about me.”

“I feel like you are great and very very interesting.”

“In what way am I interesting?”

“In every way that matters.”

“I think you are interesting, too, but I feel you are more great than anything else.”

“I think it takes a great person to recognise that I am interesting.”

“That is what I like about you.”

“I like you, too.”

“Please vomit in my mouth now.”

“Okay.”

“How long has it been in place?”

“Three years.”

“So countless times a day for three years they’ve been pressing a button to unlock and pass through an entryway that’s always been unlocked?”

“Yep.”

“And not one of them ever noticed?”

“Nope.”

“Amazing. What about the liquids project?”

“That’s in two stages. They can pay for a large cup and the global branding has them utterly convinced that it is the same coffee they get from our partner corporation on every corner in the city. Most of them still opt for the free stuff, of course, even though it’s brewed from dirty dishwater and used grounds.”

“But their taste buds have not been manipulated. Surely they must notice that it tastes like shit?”

“They do and they complain often, but well, it’s free. The next implementation in the liquids project is free apple juice.”

“Ugh. Poor bastards.”

“Indeed.”

“So you’re off then?”

“Yes.”

“On holiday?”

“Yes.”

“Again?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Um. It’s just that I…”

“What?”

“Err… I’ll…”

“…”

“I mean… have a good time.”

“Uh, thanks…?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re tired of me aren’t you?”

“What?”

“I can hear it in your voice. You are now bored. Of me.”

“What on earth…?”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend to spare my feelings.”

“I’m not tired, bored or sparing. I do have very little idea what you’re on about, though.”

“I called you two hours ago and you didn’t pick up.”

“Um, I was busy.”

“Right.”

“No, really.”

“Fine.”

“No, really!”

“Never mind.”

“Look! I um, I’ve got a bit of a stomach thing, okay? I was on the toilet when you rang and have been there since.”

“Oh.”

“What? What is it?”

“Thought I heard something…”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right.”

“…”

“Again?”

“Yes, yes, I heard it distinctly that time.”

“What does it sound like?”

“I can’t explain. It… it’s weird.”

“Um…. are you sure it’s not just appliance hum or an errant bird perhaps?”

“No, no. Why do you suggest such specific things?”

“Well, I don’t know. I had to suggest something.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Well you weren’t being very forthcoming.”

“That’s because I don’t know what it is. There it is again! You must have heard it that time?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“I’m hearing things, apparently.”

“I would say so.”

“I just wanted to say how sorry I am. You know… for what happened.”

“Please, don’t apologise. Really. I should be apologising to you. In fact, I am.”

“No, no. Please… you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yes, I do and I am because the entire regretful… incident… the entire incident was my fault.”

“No. It wasn’t. You are not to blame. I led us to that… that place. I take responsibility and I very much need your forgiveness.”

“As I said, I have nothing to forgive you for, truly. You must forgive me.”

“I can’t forgive you. For you have done nothing to warrant forgiveness.”

“Oh. I am still sorry, though.”

“Yes, I am quite remorseful myself.”

“I just don’t understand how you could have.”

“Well, I don’t know really. I suppose it just sort of happened.”

“These things don’t ‘just sort of happen’!”

“This one did.”

“So here we are then.”

“Yes, here we are.”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Oh well, you know, this…”

“Yes, yes, I suppose it is.”

“I mean, I would have never thought…”

“No?”

“Well, no, I mean I suppose I had my suspicions.”

“Yes, yes I suppose you did.”

“I mean, didn’t you?”

“Me?”

“Yes?”

“Well, I sure… I mean I think that I… err…”

“Yes?”

“Well the thing is that, the matter is really… how can I put this?”

“Go on.”

“It’s just that, well…”

“…”

“Oh, nothing really. Don’t mind me.”

“Are you sure, because it feels like something’s not being said.”

“Oh? Do you have something you need to say?”

“Well no I errr, I meant you.”

“Oh, no. Nothing worth being said. No.”

“Oh well good. Me neither.”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

“OK. Well then I suppose I’ll see you around?”

“Yes, yes I suppose you will.”

Go away. I’m pretend-typing so you won’t approach me. Look away. Leave me alone. I’m engrossed in important work as you can plainly see. I don’t want to hear your crass attempted witty remarks on the weather, or this sad state of affairs or the weather or how tired I look or the weather again. Go away. I don’t care and you creep me out with your inquisitive gaze boring into me. Look away. I don’t want to tell you about my weekend, there’s nothing there for you to grab hold of. In your tamest dreams you never met me and you never will. Keep your shallow words and your shallower thoughts hidden away buried beneath that diseased exterior, deep and far away from me. Go away. We’re trapped in this situation by convenience, randomness, anything but desire so GO AWAY. I’m burying my nose into the monitor for your benefit so just….

Oh, fuck.

Alright, what is it then?

“Erm… Oh!”

“What?”

“Oh. Uh… nothing.”

“Oh.” [sigh]

“Wha..?”

“What?”

“Um, what was that?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Ah, OK.”

” … ”

“You sighed.”

“So I did.”

“Right.”

“What?”

“I… uhh…”

“Yes?”

“Uhhh…”

” … ”

“Nevermind.”

“Fine.”

“But… umm…”

“Mmmhmm?”

“No. Forget it.”

“Ugh.”

“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.”

“Yes, my child. How long has it been since your last confession?”

“A very, very long time, father. Too long.”

“Go on.”

“I have had… impure thoughts.”

“Concerning what, my child?”

“Everything, father. Things that… well….”

“Confess and repent to me now that God may forgive you, child.”

“I simply can’t, father. I am unable to utter these travesties in your holy presence. Instead, I have been… I have blogged about them, father.”

“Blogged!?”

“Yes, I have a blog, father, wherein I have confessed to… EVERYTHING.”

” … ”

“Is something wrong, father?”

“You… you have confessed your sins to your fellow sinners before confessing them to THE LORD!?!?!?”

“Yes, father. I’m so sorry, father.”

“Very well, my child. E-mail me ten Our Fathers and seven Hail Marys in penance. May God give you pardon and peace. I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

“Oh thank you, father. Thank you.”