Conversation between two female bookstore clerks:
That's disturbing. Just disturbing.
I knooow. Can you imagine?
You should call and complain.
What?
I think you should call them and say something.
I think I will.
(20 seconds of silence)
There's no answer. I bet they're away from the desk. I'll call them later. Teach them to say disturbing shit about us.
What's the most disturbing thing you've ever seen?
I don't know; I've seen some pretty sick shit. What about you?
Me? I. Well. There was this little baby rabbit. And it had this gross kinda open sore in it's side about this big and, and you could see . . . well, there were things moving around in it . . . inside the guts and stuff. And it was panting, you know, breathing real heavy and. . . Well, then my fiancé-at-the-time just goes up and stomps on it's head and. It was. Well. I still get upset thinking about it.
(At about this point a customer is waited on; they stop talking until the customer is gone. I think her distress was caused—more—by learning that some guy who she contemplated marrying was capable of euthanizing an injured bunny with his boot, than by the maggoty wound.)
What about you?
I think it would probably be this guy I saw on the train. He didn't have any arms or legs and he was duct-taped to a skateboard. (breathy giggles spread between them) And he had this little red swiss army knife sticking out the corner of his mouth, and it bobbled up and down when he talked—like a cigarette does—you know? . . . And whenever someone would get to close to him he'd say 'I wouldn't do it'. That was all I ever heard him say...(in a Burgess-Meridth-as-The-Penguin voice, she repeats—amid more giggles) I wouldn't do it.
Your stories! I always have difficulty believing your stories.
I wouldn't do it.
Where was this? Was he flat out... how. How'd he get around?
I assume he had some caretaker-handler or someone. He'd be in the isle of the train near the door. This was when I lived in New York, but he was always near or around Brooklyn I think. I saw him more than once. Couple times.
Duct-taped? I mean it must have . . .
Right to the board. It was a long board, or at least it was longer than a regular one. There was, like, a piece of foam under his head; but other than that: he was taped flat... I wouldn't do it.
Duct tape is like the force. It has a light side, a dark side, and it holds the universe together. — Oprah Winfrey
3 comments:
So... have you always lived in a David Lynch film, or is this a recent development??
Quirky snippets of conversations intrigue me. And - now that you mention it - that is rather Lynchy (Lynchesque)?
I stopped watching Lynch after a few hours of Inland Empire several years ago. He's gone over-the-Ingmar-Bergman-hill and that's too far for me too follow.
I've yet to see 'INLAND EMPIRE' (remember, the title's in FULL CAPS otherwise Lynch himself will come to haunt your house). You're saying the Polish rabbit sitcom didn't hold your interest??
'Mullholland drive' I liked, but I've only seen it once, and I found 'Lost highway' to be 50% good, 50% bad. I have a deep-seated hatred for Marilyn Manson, so that might've coloured my opinion slightly.
Post a Comment