Chained to a Dead Hooker

Normal conversation between two people you could call friends
January 8, 2014 by Naven Naido

**In the following dialogue, both characters don’t have names and I’m not giving them names now so get over it.

Person1: He always pointed to his crotch instead of saying the word “sex”. Probably thinks it’s more polite. I never get that.

Person2: So, is that why you hate him?

Person1: No, actually. He had that face.

Person2: Ah. I see it now. He was attractive. You hate people more attractive than you? Which would mean an awful lot of hating, for you? I get it now.

Person1: It was not that he was remarkably attractive, y’know? How do I describe the width of his appeal? If I was a woman, and I haven’t given this much thought, facing a lifetime of harrowing loneliness and the Apocalypse was looming on the horizon then maybe I would hold his hand.

Person2: That sounds like a special feeling. It hurts my soul that we are standing around discussing the sex appeal of another man. Then again, it comes up more often nowadays. It must be another ill-consequence of a downward spiraling economy. Every man in our new socially aware age of understanding of people’s feelings and things, heterosexual or not, wants to know how many positive responses he would get if he were to ask every other man to go scarf shopping with him.

Person1: How many would you get?

Person2: Would you come?

Person1: Probably.

Person2: Then one. That’s the new measure of masculinity. I have never been very masculine anyways. Even by the old standards. What was it? How many women you dragged to your cave? How many books you didn’t read?

Person1: I think it was how many toddlers you could smuggle across the border hiding them only in your facial hair.

Person2: Ah.

Person1: Right, back to the point at hand – this guy. I hate him. I skipped breakfast this morning just so I could have more time to hate him.

Person2: Usually I’m a big fan of hating things – wooden furniture, films with female protagonists who don’t need men, the Sun – stuff like that. This guy, you said, doesn’t say the word “sex”.

Person1: Precisely.

Person2: He just points to his…his…place?

Person1: Yeah. You should see where he points to when he refers to, *ahem*, non-heterosexuals.

Person2: I’m not judging you or anything but how many times in total did sex as a topic come up in the entire conversation, between two male strangers who are seemingly both straight and who have just met?

Person1: Let’s see…ah, one.

Person2: That’s a staggering amount! Could you give me second to count how many international treaties and human rights violations were broken in this act of war? We should call the Pentagon. Lend me your phone.

Person1: And besides the pointing thing he had this indecipherable high pitched voice. Sounded like a cat being tortured on a tight schedule, like he was being forced to propose at gun point. Plus, he kept on waving and using all these gangster signs – you know I’m not down with those things. It was a horrifying encounter. That’s why I don’t bother with conversation half the time. That’s the reason I may relocate to some remote monastery in Tibet or someplace like that to spend my life in solitude, contemplating how hungry and cold I am.

Person2: This guy had a high pitched voice. He was hard to understand. And he used a lot of gestures when he spoke?

Person1: Yes, you could even say mostly gestures.

Person2: Who’s this guy? What’s his name?

Person1: Think it was Alec or Roy or something.

Person2: You mean Lenny?

Person1: That’s the one! Lenny.

Person2: Lenny is six.

Person1: Is that a gang?

Person2: Six years old.

Person1: And your point is?

Person2: Lenny is also deaf. And learning sign language.

Person1: Well, he could’ve said something…

Look out for more cynicism blending humour by Naven, at Chained to a Dead Hooker.

Advertisements

Speak to Her:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s