No Narrative (3 Dialogues)

TO BED: 6.34 AM INITIAL WAKE: 2.16 PM RE-STIRRED: 3.16 PM ARISE: 5.08 PM DAY: THURSDAY NOVEMBER, 20, 2008 AD MET JARED AT UNION SQUARE: 6.13 PM BORROWED PEN AND PULLED OUT NOTEBOOK: 6.14 PM 3 THINGS WROTE DOWN: LIQUOR STORE, STAND-STILL AND PESSIMISTIC. WENT TO EAST 11TH: 6.24 PM WENT TO STATIONARY STORE: 6.47 PM LEFT STATIONARY STORE: 7.03 PM DEPOSITED CHECK: 7.08 PM ON ‘A’ TRAIN: 7.21 PM UNEXPECTED DELAYS ANNOUNCED: 7.33 PM IN APARTMENT WITH SANDWICHES: 8.16 PM WATCH DVD AND LISTEN TO RECORDS, DIALOGUE UNTIL: 1.03 AM READ NOVEL UNTIL: 1.48 AM WRITE PAGE ONE IN SPIRAL NOTEBOOK: 2.04 AM WRITE PAGE ONE IN LEGAL PAD: 2.58 AM WRITE PAGE TWO (PRESENT): 3.39 AM
LIQUOR STORE, STAND-STILL, AND PESSIMISTIC ALL TO OCCUR BETWEEN RISING AT 5.08 PM AND MEETING JARED AT UNION SQUARE AT 6.13 PM.

3 DIALOGUES: 1 inside my head inside a cab. 1 outside my job, after receiving my paycheck, in the street over the phone. 1 inside my ear – a woman walking the same pace on the phone, both en route via Broadway to Union Square.

LIQUOR STORE
I’ll just get out here.
No, I’ll pull around. Just chill. Chill.
I’m leaving ( opens door and exits beneath freeway crossing traffic to a liquor store). (Before door shuts: I’ll be right outside!)
Driver: Man, Devin be stupid as shit!
Passenger (woman): Leave him alone. He never meant no harm. ’sides he’s the one always gets out and gets the liquor anyways. Never see your lazy ass so much as move off the couch, stoop, carseat – whatever the hell you always be sittin’ on.
Driver (agitated): I’m the one who has the car. I’m the one that owns the couch he sleeps on and the bed you sleep beside me in! I got the apartment and the TV and the money to buy the liquor in the first place!
Passenger: Oh, you’re go’n get al high and mighty on me? Try and talk down to me? Like I need your fucking bed to sleep in! Like your entitled or some shit? Like money just grows on trees in your shitty apartment? We all know where the money comes from. It don’t just magically appear in yo bank account. (she looks away)
Driver: Don’t pretend you’re not grateful. No matter where the fucking money comes from -
Passenger: I nevah said I wasn’t grateful. Just don’t go acting like I need it. Like I got no place to go. And like yous all entitled and shit.
Driver: I nevah said I was entitled to nothing. I know where my money comes. Just don’t need you busting my balls over an’ on it.
Passenger: I like you just the same. (Turns to driver and smiles) (Driver still annoyed, sees the oncoming of Devin and forgets any troubles)
Driver (excited): Bout time! Shit. Been in need of a drink since I woke up!
Passenger: Don’t say that unless you mean it.
Driver: Who says I don’t?
Devin: Both of yous can shut the hell up and drive! I’m ready to get my drink on as much as you! (pause) (reaching in paper bag and pulling out small bottles) I got us a few a pocket whiskeys too! Hand me my drink and lets grab some food ‘fore headin back!
Driver: Throw me one in my soda.
Passenger: Yeah, give me a few and we’ll start this thing early.
Devin: And lets get some food too! Yeah . . . (looks out window as car drives and drinking 2 parts whiskey, 1 part soda).

STANDSTILL
Daylight is near its end and the streets are suffused with grays and blues. People walk on a car-less street. Everyone is en route someplace. The workday just finished. The cold air of late fall force echoes of voices to be carried with further punctuality than is normal. A man crosses the street, dressed in all black – slacks and shoes, a long wool coat reaching his ankles. He carries with him a briefcase and touches his hand to his ear in which his phone is embedded. His companion is dressed in lighter colors and more loosely. He has jeans and an auburn sweater on, an open full coat, checkered scarf and leather gloves. The man whose phone is in his ear, his hand constantly returning to it when speaking to be addressed more clearly, booms his voice with, at one time forced however with such regularity it now comes with ease, a definitive, unwavering ego. Obviously using this tactic to intimidate the person on the other end of the receiver.
Ok, so then lets talk it over. I’m as ready to be over ‘th this thing as you.
I’m in Manhattan.
You want me to come to you? (Pause) No, yo go’n have to come to me. –
I’m in Manhattan. Yo go’n have to see me.
I’m not leaving the city an certainly on no grounds you set fo me.
Well, I guess what we got here is a standstill.
I said, “I guess what we got here is a standstill!”
(The narrator turns the corner and the bellowing voice does not follow)

PESSIMISTIC
The sun, now, has finally come to the horizon. Its rays barely escaping over Manhattan Island. Broadway below 14th twists and turns twice. Scaffolding covers most of the streets and most of them are well-lit. The store fronts also glare out onto the street. A large cathedral on East 10th Street marks a break in the deafening lights, its steeple lit only, far from the ground. With the return of storelights, so do the stores become larger; a movie theater, mega DVD and music store, bookstores. The low-rise district of Greenwich Village ends here. A woman walks with a hurried pace beneath the scaffolding along the twists of Broadway, passed the cathedral, towards the goal of Union Square. In my ear, she was compelled to speak (she walked at the same pace as I).
All right, John. You can come to the next one.
It’s on Friday the 4th.
I’m sorry if you felt left out. I didn’t think you were interested. It was only me and Nicole and -
Yeah? OK
I’m still not feeling optimistic.
I said I’m still pessimistic.
Well I dunno . . .
I’m still pessimistic about it.
(Forced chuckles)
Yeah, OK maybe (more chuckling)
Now I’m feeling optimistic
(the narrator turns the corner, unable to continue listening)