Baseball Means Nothing To Me

“It was 1986. It was a night just like this one, a stiff wind sweeping out the stale summer haze and it felt like the world was on your side for once. I was fresh off the farm, didn't have a clue. A child lost in the city. She was sitting right up there. No, not there, look at where I'm pointing, there. I could feel her eyes on me all the way in the outfield. Huge dark eyes, black as pitch. She was waiting for me after the game. I followed her to her car. She opened the trunk. She opened a case. She sold me my first pair of shoes. Real shoes, ones real women wear. These shoes. Stop looking at the stands, look at these shoes. There you go. Pretty nice, huh? Okay, back to the game. We should probably concentrate on winning, that seems important.”

But Seriously, I Can't Believe He Called

“Pretending to do what?

“...”

“You and me?”

“...”

“Have you finally lost it?”

“...”

“What? Your stories? They're fine. They still get me off.”

“...”

“Yeah, whatever. Not like there's a deadline or anything. I can hold off posting it.”

“...”

“All right, later. Jesus, what a nutjob. Why did he even call. Hey, you two, did you not see I was on the phone? Could you keep it down? I don't know why I keep letting you guys in here.”

“Because we keep bringing in the ladies! Haw!”

“Ugh.”

Maybe I Can't Do Better

“Listen, before you say anything, I know it's not my best work, but... actually, maybe it is, maybe it's sadly the best I can do. Do you ever get the feeling that we're all pretending?”

“...”

“Pretending that we know what we're doing! Faking our way through this nonsense.”

“...”

“No, everybody! Every single person in the world. Following rules as if they aren't shared delusions.”

“...”

“No, I'm fine, it's okay. I'm just tired. I'm just questioning everything. Like, why do I own such a small television? Why are animals getting so big? Why is my erotic fiction falling so flat lately?”

“...”

“That's kind of you to say. Give me a couple days for a rewrite. I can do better.”

“...”

“Thank you. Okay, I have to go. I have to drop the shade and jerk one out.”

Choose Wisely

“I hate these things. Look at them. Stupid birds. Stupid stinky birds. Can't you smell them? They smell like garbage. Stupid, ugly - that one is staring right at you! Doesn't that freak you out? Maybe it will bite your head off. I'm going inside. You can clean up the mess. And if they kill and eat you, I'm not going to clean it up.”

“Dude, what's up with your wife?”

“You realize you guys are monsters, right? But don't mind her, she doesn't know. Have you guys eaten enough yet? Are you ready to tell me your secret?”

“Uh, maybe tomorrow. We're going to go eat some rocks and digest this, and then get some sleep, and we'll see how full we feel tomorrow. Does that sound ok, dummy?”

“What?”

“Buddy? Is that okay, buddy? Okay. We're taking off. See you tomorrow. Bye-bye.”

“Stupid birds. I should have fed the giant squirrel instead.”