DJ + RJ's 21st and Final Date Night

VOICE NOTE

DECEMBER 23RD, 2019 - SAN PEDRO, CA

There is a shuffle smothering the microphone. The muffled sound of voices, clinking plates, and shifting of leather dominate the recording. This continues for exactly 37 seconds before there is a change. The leather shifts along with someone’s backside. A conversation can be hard abruptly.

“-couldn’t be less happy for her.”

“Yum.”

“Yum?”

“The eggplant.”

“Oh. In the salad?”

“Yeah.”

“They do that here?”

“Guess so.”

“This burger is absolute shit-town.”

“Ah, a lovely place to winter.”

“But, like, why have shit-town burgers and in the same breath have eggplant in your salad? There’s no eggplant in the little picture.”

“Do you want some of mine?”

“Absolutely not.”

“‘Kay.”

There is a breath, a stray thought, of silence.

“Like, did they just have eggplant on hand extra to put on salads if people asked?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You didn’t even ask!”

“Want to go ask for one?”

“One eggplant?”

“One eggplant salad.”

“Wait, did it say eggplant salad on the menu?”

“Nope. Just said salad.”

“I’m going to look like a huge ass if I go up and ask for an eggplant salad.”

“Nothing wrong with a huge ass.”

“Har har. I’m sorry, I’m not going to be into jokes today.”

“Because of the salad?”

“Please, please, no jokes right now.”

“Not a joke, babe. Genuine question.”

“No, babe, a single meal didn’t ruin my day.”

A quick thought passes in silence.

“So what’s up?”

“It’s just all of it.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

“All of it! That’s a big problem.”

“Please, Deej.”

“No jokes, sorry.”

“I just…I felt the hopelessness of all of it today. The thankless parents, the overbearing principal, the cliquey staff-“

“Oh, but you got that invite for the-“

“Yeah, but it was the holidays, Deej. They knew I’d be out of town.”

“I know.”

There is a breath of near-avoidance.

“Did you really think it was the salad?”

“The eggplant salad?”

“Yeah, the salad with eggplant in it. Did you really think that’s why I’m in a bad mood?”

“I suppose not. I just didn’t have any info yet.”

“Right.”

Another breath is taken, one of resolve.

“So what’s got you feeling this way?”

“Nothing, I guess! That’s the weird thing. Nothing even happened today. Half the kids are out with Hand-Foot-Mouth…”

“Knees and toes.”

“Please. Gonzalez had meetings all day and couldn’t do my observation.”

“Good news.”

“I just feel, felt, incredibly stuck, like PINNED. Like the- goddamnit, I can’t remember- that one James Franco movie.”

“‘Spiderman.’”

“Please, I can’t joke-“

“127 Hours.”

“127 Hours, thank you.”

Exhalation.

“Damn, RJ, I’m sorry. We’ve got to get you out of that job if it’s got you feeling like James Franco on the good days.”

“Thanks. I can’t, though.”

“I mean, you can. You can. It-“

“I have my healthcare. I have a union. I have a 401K, and my summers!”

“I’m not saying leave without a plan.”

“I’ve spent seven years establishing myself here.”

“It’s scary, sure, but it sounds like it’d be worth it.”

“And what other field would take me?”

“Well, what did you always want to do?”

“No jokes.”

“I, what, I’m not joking.”

“I…”

There are exactly 8 seconds of silence.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“You good?”

“No, yeah. I just can’t picture it.”

“Say more.”

“No. No, no. It doesn’t put me in a good headspace.”

“Okay.”

There are exactly 7 seconds of silence.

“I wanted to be an actor.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah.”

“It’s definitely hard to picture you in that world.”

“Exactly.”

“But, there are a lot of paths that lead in that direction.”

“No, please don’t.”

“Not a joke. There are ways to be an actor without-“

“Please, Deej, don’t. I’m not trying to throw my whole life away.”

“You wouldn’t be! There are lots of different-“

“Oh my god, we can’t all be Senior Fun Officer or whatever the hell.”

“That’s…”

There are exactly 11 seconds of silence.

“I’m sorry, I know that’s not…”

“I understand. I do. It sounds like a made-up job title. I’m lucky.”

There are exactly 2 seconds of silence.

“Okay but can I ask-“

“Hey loves, are we enjoying the food? Would you like another coke?”

There is a silence with enough room to turn a train of thought around.

“I, um…”

“Yes, please.”

“Can do. How about dessert? How’re we feeling?”

“Ooh, that does sound good right now, huh?”

“Not really sure what I’m hungry for.”

“Well, you can take a look-”

“Oh! There’s a section here.”

There are exactly 4 seconds of shifting and shuffling.

“If you’d like more time-”

“What’s a Bazookie?”

“Just a giant cookie.”

“Like a violent explosion of cookie-”

“-of sugar, exactly.”

“Whew, that sounds like a lot.”

The leather creaks louder than the voices.

“What are the odds we can order it in a smaller size?”

“Babe, it’s only got the one price.”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask. Is that possible?”

“Deej…”

“Oh, I’m almost positive! We have kids’ Mini-Auto-Bazookies, so I’m sure it’s doable.”

“Thank you so much. What do you think?”

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

“We’ll have a Mini-Auto-Bazookie.”

“Wonderful. Let me take these off your hands. Should be out soon.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

There are exactly 10 seconds of silence between them. The rest of the restaurant is still alive with the dark noise of nondescript conversation.

“Deej, I’m sorry about saying that.”

“It’s okay.”

“I just don’t get how you do it.”

“Do what exactly?”

“Pitch a position called Executive Gaming Supervisor and get it made, set the salary, just want something and get it.”

“I mean, a lot of work went in-”

“No, I remember thinking it before we started going out. It was impressive. Incredibly attractive. You could ask for someone’s coat in the rain and they’d give it.”

“That doesn’t sound very attractive.”

“Sure, yeah, but I mean that you could have asked for anything and people were happy to give it, or to help you find it, or-”

“-or put eggplant on my salad when that wasn’t on the menu.”

“Okay, yeah, yes, the eggplant thing.”

Each breath like this one gets easier.

“Does that make you mad?”

“Sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“Sometimes! And it’s only a feeling, and it’s a silly feeling-”

“Come on, now.”

“But it is. I know that. Hell, it was attractive! I just can’t relate.”

Whew.

“Yeah.”

The restaurant carries on. The leather squeaks. A plate is dropped.

“Don’t disappear on me.”

“I’m not. I’m here.”

People are clapping for the broken plate. A child runs by with another child. An exasperated parent follows behind them.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“What is it you want, exactly?”

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry, I think I left my phone over here.”

A large shuffling is heard as the new voice, more familiar to the microphone, enters.

“I didn’t see anything.”

“Oh, here you go.”

The buffer of leather and ass is removed with one last struggle. The sounds of the restaurant become far more tangible. The real world has arrived again.

“Oh my god. Thank you so much. I was stressed the hell out! Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Absolutely.”

“Have a good night!”

If the well-wish is returned, or used, it is never recorded. The sounds of the restaurant change with a soft doppler effect. A jingling is heard.

“Oh, oops! L-O-L, not a voice note! That’s so funny.”

END OF RECORDING