An Evening of Romantic Lovemaking by Ben Slotky

Author:Ben Slotky [Slotky, Ben]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Deep Vellum Publishing

Chapter Seven

Signified and Roy

Full disclosure, folks, full transparency, I’m not good at making love. I’m not. In fact, I’m terrible at it. Probably why I said I wasn’t interested in it, earlier. Makes sense? That one thing would lead to another thing? We could draw a chart, a diagram; anybody got a pen? No, but I’m not good at it, you can ask anybody. Well, not anybody. Like if you asked this guy? [Points with gun.] He wouldn’t know, I don’t think, so just go ahead and take my word for it. This is trust, this is you relying on me. This is you believing me when I say I’m not good. No bueno. I’d like to say, “Oh this is a relatively new, you know, development, the me being terrible at lovemaking is.”

I’d like to say it’s the stress, ma’am.

I’d like to say it’s the pressures, ma’am.

Maybe cancer? [Eyebrows up, quizzical.] Maybe the maybe-cancer? That makes sense, right? That the maybe-cancer started this, that’s the origin. From this, that. From this, [Points mic at chest] that. [Points at crowd with gun.] And I’ve got a little secret I’m going to share with you, something real. [Crouches down, looks side to side, stage-whispers.] I’m not sure this place gave me cancer. [Smiles, stands back up, pacing.] Like maybe I had it already? Maybe I was already dying? Maybe there was something already? Something inside? Rotting like an otter, a tumor-otter? An otter-tumor? And what’s the deal with music, today, am I right ma’am, what with all the otter-tumor? And in all honesty, I am pretty sure everybody has cancer. Do you, ma’am? Have cancer? Seems like everybody does. It’s everywhere, isn’t it? In the air, in the food, the water, in the everything, and we do it to ourselves, don’t we? Like those things you stick in your ears, those air things? [Looks pleadingly into crowd.] Ma’am, help me out here, I’m exhausted, I am. [Puts head down, shoulders slumped, defeated.] I’m tired and no good at making love, I’ve said this, I’m explaining this. Full disclosure, a declaration, an accounting, and what’s that? [Looks up, looks out, menu-faces.] Say that again, ma’am? [Listening, hearing, smiling.]

AIRPODS!

YES!

Thank you, ma’am. See? You get it! You and me, ma’am. [Taps chest with gun, points gun out at crowd. Looks at gun, wrinkles nose and shakes head.] Anyway, AirPods, beginning of a bit, and this cancer, it’s in the air. Those air pods you have? That you stick in your ears and they wirelessly transmit shit? That’s not giving you cancer? And let’s be honest, it’s KIND OF WORTH IT, isn’t it? Shouldn’t that be the slogan for those things, “AirPods: Kind of Worth the Brain Cancer”? Because let’s face it, ma’am, let’s be honest, let’s hash it out, isn’t it? Let’s look at it clearly, even though it’s so dark in here? These AirPods, right? You stick them in your ears, and they’re like headphones, except they’re tiny, aren’t they? And you cram them in your ears, right? Cram them and jam them and you can hear your music or whatever.

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