“It can be anything. Anything!”
“No.”
“Chicken.”
“There's nothing wrong with you. You're perfect the way you are.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t give me one simple–”
“Hey! Get back here.”
“Just one thing, just whatever. Some little thing. I want to know!”
“So you mean, a performance evaluation.”
“It could be my performance. It could be my looks. Has to be something I can change, is all. Preferably without surgery. Something that just kinda bugs you.”
“And then it'll be my turn, I presume.”
“No, we don’t have to.”
“Oh, really? Hardly seems fair.”
“I like to work on myself, is all. Better myself.”
“People don't change. Not at our age.”
“What, were you born vegan?”
“I wish I was born vegan.”
“My point is, you changed. People change. If you don't talk to me, if you don’t tell me what you like or don't like–”
“Nobody responds well to criticism, never mind acts on it.”
“I do. I have.”
“Sure you have.”
“Okay, here’s an example--I used to need a light on at night. Well into my twenties. Then I had a roommate who needed it pitch black. I mean not even the light from the clock radio. I buy her an eye mask. But she says no way, sister. Grow up. That hurt, but I grew up! I faced my fear.”
“Good for you.”
“Point is, if she hadn’t been so… direct–”
“Look. Ask me in a year. I'll tear you to shreds. But so far, you're perfect. Smart, beautiful, sexy… here, let me prove it to you.”
“No!”
“So I have to make some shit up, then have you freak out on me, Melvin in 1A calls the cops– ‘officer, there’s an altercation on the third floor’--that’s your idea of a fun night?”
“I’m not allowed to be offended, if I'm asking.”
“Course not. What could possibly go wrong?”
“I’m telling you, it’s worse having to wonder if there's something I do that irritates you, and not knowing what it–”
“You’re fine! I can’t think of anything I would want to change about you!”
“Peter, come ON! What'dya got? Don't be such a chicken! I know there's something! There has to be SOMETHING!”
“This. This right here. It's a real turn-off.”
“Oh.”
“It’s irritating.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“It’s messed up.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah. I want you to knock it off.”
“I'm sorry. I'll stop. I stopped.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay, well. Good night, Peter.”
“Good night, Linda.”
“Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Would the hall light be okay?”
“Sure, sure.”
“I’ll just crack the door an inch.”
“That’s fine.”
“This much? Or this much?”
“It’s fine like that.”
“A?”
“Sure–”
“Or B?”
“A. B. Which one. A. B. A? Or B?”
“Oh my God.”
—----------------------------------------------------
"Betsy, please. Make a decision."
"No, you."
"You’ve got one minute. That’s it."
"Charley’s!"
"I hate Charley’s."
"Now do I only got half a minute?"
"Yeah. Pick someplace else."
"Let’s just not go."
"Story of our life."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Why can’t you make a simple decision?"
"Because you’re so good at it."
"I’m telling you, you drive me nuts."
"I like Charley’s. I decided Charley’s."
"I hate the food. You know I hate the food."
"In that case, we’re back to square one."
"How about Pizza Palace."
"Pizza takes too long."
"Fine, China Garden."
"Closed Mondays."
"How hungry are you?"
"Why don’t you just say you don’t want to go?"
"Sure, okay. We still have that soup."
"That’s right, there’s plenty of soup."
"Costs too much to eat out, anyway."
"Story of our life."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"When was the last time we ate out?"
"Your birthday. We went to Charley's."
"Yeah! It was great--"
"I got sick as a dog.
"We had Charleyburgers!"
"I threw up!"
"It was a bug. You had a damn bug."
"C’mon, let’s go."
"Where?"
"Charley’s."
"Really?"
"Sure. Least one of us'll be happy."
"Aw, honey. You’re a good man, you know that?"
"I’ll just have a beer and you can have your burger."
"No! You gotta eat!"
"I don’t gotta do nothin'. I’ll have soup later. Here, lemme help you with your coat."
"You’re a good man, Arty Collins."
"Yep, you chose a winner when you chose me."
"So did you. Chose a winner."
"I was asking for trouble, is what I was."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Aw, come on, forget it."
"No. We’ll stay home and eat soup, all right?"
"Hey, hey, hey. You wanted to go out. Betts. Put your coat back on. No one’s gonna call me no cheapskate."
"I’m fine with soup. I’m easy. Here, I’m puttin’ it on the stove. Trouble? Who’s trouble? I’m not trouble. We got soup."
"Uh, listen, I’m just gonna..."
"You’re gonna what."
"I’m gonna head down and grab a quick beer."
"Where you going? O’Kellar’s?"
"Charley’s."
"It’s the closest."
"Yup."
"All a sudden you don’t like my soup? You liked it yesterday."
"You coming, or not?"
"Do you want me to?"
"No! I mean, yes! I don’t know! I just need a beer! God, you get me so… argh. I’m going."
"Well, you wanted 'trouble.' You asked for 'trouble.' I’m only living up to my end of--"
"You want I bring you back a burger?"
"I don’t care."
"Save me some soup."
"Arty--the stairs? Use the service elevator! When will you learn? Your knee.”
“The day I can’t make these stairs is the day I die.”
“DON'T FORGET FRIES WITH IT! AND COLESLAW!"
"Jesus, woman, keep your voice down . You'll wake up 3C."
—----------------------------------------------------
“Steven, it’s off the table. One of the surest signs of maturity is being able to accept the gray and not force something to be black and white. Now I’m through discussing this.”
“You’re saying I’m immature. I’m not immature.”
“I’m saying you might be a little reactionary.”
“You said maturity. I heard you.”
“You’re right. I called you immature. You're acting like a petulant little boy who isn't getting his way. The fact is, domestic birds feel safe in a cage. Happier. Just because you think captivity is bad, does not make it bad. Now help get them back in.”
“I’d like to hear you say that from behind bars. Happier.”
“Anyway they shit all over everything.”
“They won’t this time. There, I opened the window. Your precious couch is safe.”
“WHAT THE--? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!!”
"Wheeeeeee!"
"STEVEN!"
“Calm down. I can see Tito in the tree–he’s right there. Look, he’s watching me… oh--hello, Mr. Collins! Nice night for a walk! I think Tito isn't too sure about all this. Heh-heh, he's watching me from the tree like his life depends on it...
“That’s it. I'm done.”
“...but it looks like Tilly’s gone johnson. Hold on, Mel! Grab a sheet! She might be out front!”
“Who, in their right mind, would deal with this insanity? No one, that's who! Goodbye!”
“Tito. Tito. Good boy! You came back! Pretty bird. Here we go. In you come.
Heyyy. Welcome home, buddy.
Oh wow–
Yeah, sure, you’re fine, anywhere’s fine. Pop a squat on the couch.
Need a drink? Here’s some water. Attaboy. Let’s leave the cage door open.
In, out. In, out. Open door policy.
Pretty sweet, huh? Freedom!
The fresh air feels nice. It’s a little cold, though. I might have to close the window.
Till-ly! Tiiilllll-ly!!
Hey, Tito, not on my laptop. Eww.
You don’t seem too worried about Tilly. Some lovebird you are.
Melvin? MELVIN??!!”
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1 comment
I like your different POVs. Three very different relationships, yet so similar. The last one, especially with the humor. Your dialogue is very natural. Keep it up.
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