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Honest Conversation Is Overrated

Actual Human Interactions Witnessed Or Overheard
In  Twentieth  And  Twenty-First  Century  America

The Action Movie Version Of My Monday Morning

7/20/2015

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Manager At The Sporting Good Store: "We seem to be sold out of the Cherry Blossom Energy Chews. Do you have any idea who's buying these because nobody is picking up any of the other flavors."

Wage Slave: "Our research shows it's mainly used by 20-40 year olds who enjoy hiking, climbing, wrestling surfing, and ultimate frisbee looking for simple ways to boost their energy. Oh, and also annoyed retail employees in Harvard Square."

Manager: "That's an odd aberration."

WS: "It's actually just one person, as far as we can tell. We believe he uses it exclusively on Mondays, as he doesn't sleep well on Sundays for some reason."

M: "So he uses it to refrain from killing tourists, drunks, and jerks?"

WS: "Our research doesn't prove that. We have no evidence that he's killed anyone with or without our product."

M: "We're talking about the guy who works in the comic book store?"

WS: "Yes."

M: "And you say you don't have enough research to prove he's snapped or killed anyone while using or not using our product?"

WS: "Yes."

M: "You're fired. Try not to trip over the pile of bodies he's stacked against our door."

WS: "I...I can't even get the door open. OH GOD."

M: "There's no god in Harvard Square, Jefferson, only The Angel Of Death. And you just sold him two pouches of energy gel, which he stuffed into his mouth all at once. There's nothing we can do now but pray."

WS: "But you JUST SAID there's no god!"

M: "Pray to your mistakes that they may visit you again before you die. Pray to your ignorance that it ceases to cling to you but stays just close enough that you see it on the horizon and remember its face. Pray to the bodies stacked against the door that they make this room a haven and not a tomb. Pray to time, that it passes you gently like an ex lover who sees you on the street and smiles, remembering when you were happier. Pray to the energy gel that it keeps us half as awake as it keeps him. Pray that the comic book employee does not know your name, lest he snap your dreams in his mouth like fat knuckles."

WS: "Jesus Christ."

NDOM: "There's no Jesus here, either, Jefferson. The only one dying for your sins is you."

WS: "What did I do to deserve this?"

NDOM: "You were bad at your job. There's little that frustrates him more."

WS whimpers.

In the distance, you can hear the monster slurping more energy chews.
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Inspired by the very nice lady who stood in front of the counter, searching through her phone's photo album for pictures of her son to show me, so that I could figure out what type of comic books he might like, based on his physical appearance. Just as the energy chews kicked in, she said "There, I've almost got it. Please don't kill me." And she gave a funny little laugh until I replied "Kill you? I didn't even know that was an option."
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