back to work

We all started clapping when she walked in.  I nudged Edgar, and he said, Leave me alone; I've had it this time. I said, No, man, I'm serious, and he looked over and I saw his face come back to life.  Before letting him go so I could look over again, I adjusted his tie and looked at his face.  She sat down and tried to say hello to the ones around her, but everybody was too busy high fiving each other, and she said, You boys are idiots, but she stayed.  And we smiled.

When most of the cheers settled down, we started taking out our notepads, and I looked over my list, as well.  I took a moment to hear what was being thrown out there, a couple cheers were still going —These guys were using yesterday's strategies of talking about themselves, when these days you should speak of someone else, your neighbor, for example.  Except Ralph—Do Not Bring Up His Neighbor.  Cedric's approach was clever—it was all in the third person; but she didn't know how clever because Cedric never stops.  I waited to hear my chance; the ones I had in mind had received positive feedback, but before I could speak, I heard fuckin Lester using one of mine again.  I told Randy about it, but he said, Leave me alone, I'm trying to concentrate.  He was being mysterious.  Hearing Lester say my words took the air out of everything, and I accepted it, adjusted my notes, no time for the asterisk, and said, Fuckin Lester.  Hope you choke on it.  He stutters, the clown.

Lance came out with his toolbelt.  Amateur, he was going to show her his toys.  He was so happy and smiling.  When we made fun of him, he got angry and went back into the bathroom, then came out again with only his tool belt, and we all started cheering him.

Eugene took out his tax forms and put on reading glasses to confirm; he was sure but never act to moved.  Tony don't write nothing down, and if he did, he wouldn't be able to say it.  He sat there judging her, but I know him, and he was afraid of her.  

She was looking at my boy, and so I said to Lester, Lester, you greasy old goat, you got pomade in your face.  He moved out of the seat, and Edgar walked towards her.  Jason joked that he was probably going to take a piss again, and I laughed half-heartedly.  But Edgar spoke to her.  My boy, he said, You look just like my girlfriend, and we all exclaimed, Oh, man!  and he turned around and started fighting with us and we all went back to work.  It's always the same with him, she's either the moon or his ex-girlfriend.

It's Chuck!

- Where's Rocco?
- Rocco sent me.
- You're not Rocco.
- No, he sent me.  I'm Chuck.
- You're not Chuck—I'm Chuck.
- Okay...
- What should I call you?
- Then I'm George.
- That's right.  I don't call nobody else Chuck.  Sit down.  Where's Rocco?
- Rocco sent me.
- I understand that.  Quit repeating yourself; you look like a fool.  I asked where is he?
- He couldn't make it.  He sent—
- I said don't do that.
- But that's all he—
- So you don't know where he is.  Just say that.  
- All right.
- Otherwise, you'll look like a—
- Fool, I know—
- Did I say that?  You gonna finish my sentences now?  You got an attitude problem, you know that?
- Yea, they—
- Don't answer—I'm not done talking; otherwise you'll like a fool.  Listen, me and Rocco had an arrangement.  You, I don't know.
- I'm someone you can trust.
- What is this, a movie?  I don't trust nobody.  Look, I'm looking to move 50 kilos of drugs.  Rocco says he knows the people.  I need someone I can trust.
- That's why he sent me.
- You, I don't know you.  You can't even tell me your real name.
- It's George.
- You're damn right; I'm the only Chuck around here.  What makes you think I'm going to trust you to come back with my money?
- Chuck, it's no problem— 
- All I got are problems.
- You got nothing to worry about; it's all been taken care of.
- Yea, how so?  Hurry up and answer—I gotta hit the can.  My prostate's the size of a gorgeous ocean.
- I have all the people lined up.
- Who are all these people—hold it, the beauty of my sea waits for no man.  If there's a call, you answer, "Chuck Here Loaning You Money, Hold Please," and cover the mouthpiece with your hand so they don't hear me tinkle.  
- Nice setup.
- Don't make jokes; it doesn't suit you.  And You hold it... All right, I'm back—What's a matter, you don't get up when someone sits down?
- Oh, I—
- Don't answer; it was a joke.  I was showing you how a real man jokes.  Listen, who are these people?  
- They're just my people—you can trust them.
- I'm going to trust them with 50 cartons of cigarettes?
- I thought it was drugs.
- What's it matter?  He's just going to edit it.
- I can vouch for them.
- Yea, and where are the vouchers?  Don't answer; it's an industry joke.  Hey, who's going to vouch for you if your boys turn out to be gutter rats?
- You mean, stool pigeons?
- What are you, reading a script?  
- You don't have to worry about my boys—we got no rat finks in our crew.  Chuck, we've done this hundreds of times.  You got nothing to worry about.  
- You got a plane?
- No, why would we need a plane?  We're driving to Santa Clarita.
- Thought I saw it parked out there.
- Outside of your office?
- No, inside of my gorgeous prostate.  Listen, kid, you ain't got the chops for comedy.
- So are you comfortable with this?
- I don't know, is it long enough?
- Eh.
- I haven't felt comfortable since I half-shot my landing.  I gotta change my pants.  Press the speaker button if a call comes on.
- There's those that make it, and those that just get through.
- Don't joke; it doesn't suit you.

.
..
...
....
- I'm meditating...I can't believe I'm meditating!
- Shut up asshole, you just ruined it.
- What should I do?
- Stop talking...
- Should I count my breathes?
- I don't care, just shut up...
- I was at 4.
- Just stop thinking.
- Okay...but should I start the count—
- Shut up!  Okay, start over, and just focus on the count.
- Ok...
- Don't say anything else.
- Nothing else.
- Don't say anything...
.
..
...
....
- I think I'm doing it again—oh shit, I just did it again.
- Start over.
- One breath or two?
- What?
- I count on the first or the exhale?
- A complete breath...then you'd be half-breathing—you wouldn't be able to breathe.
- Ok, I'll close my eyes.
- Don't close your eyes.  You're not trying to sleep.
- Ok...
- Stare straight ahead...
.
..
...
- this is great...
- shush...
.
..
...
- I love you, God.
- Will you shut up!
- I never thought I'd be meditating!
- You're not meditating—Stop crying...why are you crying?
- I'm so happy...I never thought I'd be meditating.
- You're not meditating—you're talking...
.
..
...
- I keep seeing what I look like meditating...am I doing it right?
- I don't even know...
- I can see my eyes open...it's an out of body experience!  It must be...I need some lumbar support.
- Fuck it...it's too hot in the sauna.

...but I went around the block for you

- This guy, this is going to be my guy.  Fuckin' traffic—hold on buddy, I'm coming.  God, I hate these people!  Hold on, buddy...hang in there...(honk honk) Hey, you hungry?  Hey...hey!  Sorry, how are you?
- What?
- You hungry?
- Are you talking to me?
- Are you hungry, sir? 
- Yea, that's why I'm going to buy a sandwich.
- You will, someday.
- Yea, I sure hope so.
- Here, it's roast chicken.
- What?
- Do you want some food?  It's chicken.
- I understand that.
- It's fresh, and it should still be hot.
- Are you offering me dinner?  That's considerate.
- Here you go.  It's nice and fresh.
- Well...may I ask—Wait, these are your leftovers.  
- Huh, what? 
- There's a fork in there. 
- Cause I'm considerate.
- You were going to throw this away. 
- Well, that's all I have...this time.
- I don't want your leftovers.  You're passing out your leftovers.
- I just thought I could help someone.
- But after you were done eating?
- Hey, I'd take anything if I were hungry and on the street.
- But there's stray bones in there...You think I'm homeless?
- Huh, what?
- You think I'm homeless.  
- But you said you were hungry.
- You said you were passing out chicken dinners.  These are your leftovers.  
- I just meant this one.  I'll have more later.
- I'm sure you will.
- I can buy more—do you want me to buy you a fresh one?
- Don't try to save face now, you already said it was fresh.  
- Well, homeless people need to eat.
- I agree, but they can't chew on bones because then they would be stray dogs.
- Don't be dramatic, there's still some dark meat in there.
- So you left the cartilage on there for the lucky bum?
- So why'd you take it?
- Because I respect generosity.
- So you don't need it but you're—
- Look, I understand you may feel humiliated while you were trying to do some good, but people need their dignity, especially if they're on the street... Not to mention you basically accused me of being a vagrant in my own neighborhood.
- But...but you're clothes—
- What's wrong with my clothes?
- (speeds away) Poor thing, he must have been disorientated.

(soft piano music)

- What should I throw at him?
- That son of a bitch!  They should exterminate all of 'em.
- What should I throw?
- No, not the Gatorade.  Throw the water bottle.
Where is it?
- Make sure it hits his fuckin' face.
- I don't see it.  I'll throw this.
- No, there's still some in there.
- Well he's going to pass by—Slow down so I can spit on him.
- Yea, spit on him, baby.  Build him a good one. 
- Fruit punch?
- Yea, throw that one.  Send him back where he came from.
- What the fuck is this?
- What, baby?
- You don't drink fruit punch.  You hate fruit punch!  Why is there fruit punch under the passenger seat?
- Oh, I thought it was the lemon-lime.
- You mistook the fruit punch for lemon-lime?
- Baby, you're missing him.
- Who sat here?  Has some bitch been in here?
- Ah, baby—Wait, what are you doing?
- Building a good one.
- Oh, come on, no one sat here.
- You said you had to watch wrestling.
- I did—I mean, I was.  I ran down to the store during the commercial.  I was in a hurry.
- Oh, cause you were so pumped up?  Monica drinks fruit punch!
- Then it probably was one of my friends.  It must have been there for some time, baby.  It got unlatched when you moved the seat ah
- You fuckin' dirtbag.
- It was one of my friends!
- Drop me off.
- Come on, sweetheart.
- Drop me off!
- Here?  Come on, baby.
- Drop me off or I'll turn the wheel, you fuckin' scumbag!
- What about WrestleMania?
- Give it to Monica.
- She doesn't—ah, shit.
- You're such a moron and you don't even know it. 
- Yea, well, at least I got laid.  
- So did I. 
- (soft piano music) ...I mean, we had fun, didn't we, baby?
- ...Don't try to grab my ass when I get out.  You can't have it anymore.  I'll find someone else who looks like you.