Robert (to Poppy): I wanted to thank you again. I just got an email from your editor friend Lindsay Herndon. It looks like I'll be writing a couple of pieces for "A Modest Spectacle." I owe you a huge debt.
Poppy (to Robert): Oh honey, I'm just happy it worked out... just buy me a drink sometime & we'll call it even.
Robert (to Poppy): I'd consider it a pleasure. I have to interview some of the club's crew, so we can do it there this week if that suits you.
Poppy (to Robert): That would be fine, honey, though I was going to suggest you take me to one of your favorite drinking holes...
Robert (to Poppy): Absolutely. I can take you to the Frog and Toad. It's a nice little British place. Good beer and excellent fish and chips.
Poppy (to Robert): That sounds perfect, honey.
Robert (to Poppy): Would you like to try it on a busy night or a quiet night? The weekends are generally pretty loud.
Poppy (to Robert): Well, honey, if were going to do it, let's go all the way & go on a weekend.
Robert (to Poppy): How does this Friday sound?
Poppy (to Robert): Wonderful... I'll even dress down, so I don't cause a scene, honey.
Robert (to Poppy): Somehow, I suspect you're one of those ladies who attract attention no matter how you dress.
Poppy (to Robert): Oh honey, it's generally because I drink like a fish & cuss like a sailor. :-)
Robert (to Poppy): Well, you'll fit right in then.
A couple hours later:
Ripper: Ugh... Reading an essay on the Tale of Two Cities that is repeatedly focusing on the repetitious use of grass in the novel... unironically.
Delia (to Ripper): ha! Really? Isn't that like focusing on how people in the canterbury tales were going somewhere? Rather than, you know, the content of the stories the pilgrims told?
Vincent (to Ripper): I can do u 1 better. A classmate once started a presentation on _Animal Farm_ w/ "This book wasn't about animals AT ALL."
Ripper (to Delia): Oh god, I think I had that very paper turned in last semester. (to Vincent) Well, at least, they got that right, I suppose.
Vincent (to Ripper): Makes me wonder y I labored ovr all that subtext and symbolism. If I ever go for my doctorate, I just won't bother.
Delia (to Ripper): Did you really? Lord. How can you write a paper on that? Did it include a section speaking on the significance of all of them being christian, too?
Ripper (to Delia): They tried to spin it into a whole "Story reveals the storyteller"essay, but got a bit bogged down by the pilgrimage itself. (to Vincent) If you were going to go for a doctorate, what field of study would you be pursuing?
Delia (to Ripper): Ah well. A for effort then if not execution. Ah.. college. Freshman feeling they've uncovered hidden truths about subjects. lol
Vincent (to Ripper): My BA's in English, emphasis on American postmodernism, I'd prolly do that. Tho honestly, as much as I love my Ginsberg, I think I may have read enough beat poetry 2 last a lifetime.
Ripper (to Vincent): Wow, I'm impressed. The way you brutalize the English language I had no idea you were an English major. :-) (to Delia) Just once, I'd like it to actually be true. :-)
Vincent (to Ripper): Hee. Ur not the 1st person 2 say that. Actually, I started w/ net spk 2 annoy some of my more stuffy cohorts. Now it's a habit.
Delia (to Ripper): Eventually one of them will have to, right? Eh, I should go back. Got halfway thru grad to my masters. Can't be young and pretty and work at the bar forever. lol
Ripper (to Delia): Well, I'll give the young part, I suspect however you're always going to be pretty.
Delia (to Ripper): Hmm.. well thank you for thinking so. I'd hate to think I've got lookin' like Satanica to look forward to. Besides, how can I turn down a compliment from someone as eloquent and lovely as yourself?
Ripper (to Delia): You keep that up, I'm going to end up getting in trouble with your gentleman.
Delia (to Ripper): For flirting? I doubt it. And as far as I know we haven't decided that we're exclusive. Seeing each other, yes but unless he's decided something and didn't think to tell me? I think you'll be safe enough for now.
Ripper (to Delia): Well, that's good to know on both counts. If I hadn't decided to take myself out of the dating pool for a bit... I'd be more than a little tempted to ask you out on a date.
Delia (to Ripper): Who said it'd have to be a date? I enjoy your company, find you interesting and wouldn't mind getting to know you better. If you ever want to have dinner or something, lemme know.
Ripper (to Delia): I would, most definitely, like that.
Delia (to Ripper): Cool. Well, let me know when you're free and we'll make plans.
Ripper (to Delia): Sounds good! Well, I've got to head off to class. Talk to you later. (to Vincent) Well, you are surprisingly full of hidden depths... And, with that, I have to run to class. See you soon.
Delia (to Ripper): Good luck and godspeed with that!
An hour or so later:
Eep: Fuck and shit! Someone remind me never to cut canvas when I'm pissed off. THIS is why I switched to painting on board.
Mouse (to Eep): What's going on?
Eep (to Mouse): Nothing. I was being stupid and impatient when I was trimming the canvas and got my finger.
Mouse (to Eep): Ouch. I'm sorry, that sucks. What's got you in a mood?
Eep (to Mouse): Yeah. It's fine. I'll live.
Mouse (to Eep): Oh ok... and, to think that I was just musing how I missed Mister Surly...
Eep (to Mouse): Mr. Surly? What?
Mouse (to Eep): Oh, nothing… are you okay?
Eep (to Mouse): Yeah. I knicked a piece off the side of my index finger. Bled like a bitch, but it seems OK now. I forgot what a pain in the ass stretching canvas is. Fat Christ!
Mouse (to Eep): Well, that's good. I'll leave you alone, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.
Eep (to Mouse): God. Sorry. I'm not trying to be a dick. I'm just annoyed with myself.
Mouse (to Eep): No, it's ok. I just reminded myself of my promise that I made yesterday. :-)
Eep (to Mouse): Heh. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Mouse (to Eep): So, are you in the mood for company or are you hiding out with your paint?
Eep (to Mouse): I wouldn't mind your company. But, I don't know how chipper I'm gonna be. I'm an idiot.
Mouse (to Eep): Just cuz you cut your finger or is there something else making you feel dumb?
Eep (to Mouse): Oh. Um... it's something else.
Mouse (to Eep): You're going to really make me work for this, aren't you? What's wrong?
Eep (to Mouse): Ehhhhh... I got curious and, uh, I looked up that review of Eddie's movie online. I mean, I know people have seen it but... Eh. Whatever. It's my own fault for letting my curiosity get the better of me.
Mouse (to Eep): Oh... God.
Eep (to Mouse): Yeeeeah. It was a dumbshit thing to do. And then I cut canvas while pissed off about it, which was also a dumbshit thing to do.
Mouse (to Eep): Alright, I'm gonna bring over some booze, a stupid movie & distract you...
Eep (to Mouse): Clearly I need someone to save me from myself.
Mouse (to Eep): I'll be over momentarily to save you... We can build a blanket fort.
