Dead Cat's Nightmare #25

(I walk into the coffee house for a cup of coffee. A young girl is sitting at a table by herself)

"Hi, mind if I sit down?"

"Help yourself."

"Boy it sure is a hot one out there, isn't it?"

(no reply)

"Yeah, nice 'n cool in here though. I thought I was gonna burn up out there on the street. How hot is it? Must be in the 90's."

(no reply)

"So, I guess you probably came in here to get outta the heat too."

"What?"

"I said it sure is hot out today."

"Yes, it is isn't it."

"Of course some people like the heat but not me. No sir. Give me that nice cool..."

"Look, I don't mean to be rude or anything but I'd really like to read this book right now. So, if you don't mind?"

"No, no, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your train of thought. I'll just sit here and drink my coffee."

(silence)

"So, what're you reading?"

"What?"

"I said what're you reading? Mind if I take a look...Hmmm, 'Thus Spoke Zarathustra' by Friederich Nietzsche. Wow, that's some pretty heavy stuff."

"Oh, have you read Nietzche?"

"Who me? Well, no, but the name is familiar."

"Yes, I see."

"What's it about?"

"The book?"

"Yeah. 'Thus Spoke Zarathustra', is that some kind of greek play or something?"

"It's about nihilism and the meaningless pain of existence, just like the pain you're giving to me right now."

"Oh, sorry. Sounds interesting though. I guess I shouldn't interrupt you while you're reading, huh?"

(no reply)

"Say have you ever read Preston/Childs? I'm reading one of their books now and it's great. It's about this guy Pendergast you see, and he has this brother that's trying to kill off all of his friends. Like this one guy, a college professor or something like that. Well, his brother gives him this poison one day before he goes to class and then right there in the middle of the lecture the poison hits him and he starts convulsing and screaming and trying to pull his eyeballs out. Out of their sockets, you know? Right there in front of the class and then...well maybe I shouldn't tell you that part so I don't spoil it."

"Yes, perhaps you better not. Now, please, if you don't mind."

"Hell of a read, though. You should pick it up sometime. I mean, after you finish the Nietzche of course."

"Yes, I'll have to do that."

"So, what do you do when you're not sitting in coffee houses reading Nietzche?"

"I'm a musician."

"A musician? You mean like in a band or something?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Is it anyone I've heard of?"

"I'm a concert musician. I play concerts."

"Oh, how interesting. Where do you play?"

"Tokyo, London, Carnegie Hall."

"Carnegie Hall? Hey, didn't the Rolling Stones play Carnegie Hall once?"

"I'm not..."

"Do you know Mick Jagger? I mean did you ever meet him?"

"No, I don't know Mick Jagger. Sorry. If I ever run into him, though, I'll tell him you said Hi."

"Heh, you're just joking with me, aren't you. 'You'll tell him I said Hi', heh-heh, that's a good one. "

"I'm sorry, you seem like a nice guy and all but..."

"What kind of music do you play?"

"Concertos, Sonatas, that sort of thing."

"Oh, so you're a classical musician. Like Andre Rieu or something like that."

"Something like that. Yes."

"Oh I get it. You know I know a little bit about music. That thing, what do they call it? That thing with the lines and...the staff, that's what they call it. You know the staff?"

"What about it?"

"E G B D F. Right? Am I right? E G B D F. Every Good Boy Does Fine. Right? I learned that back in the 4th grade in Miss Quade's class."

"That's very good. You're quite the musicologist aren't you?"

"And F A C E. That's the spaces. You know how you remember that. 'Space' rhymes with 'FACE'. She taught us all that stuff."

"Well isn't that clever. Remind me to write that down."

"Yeah, so you see I'm not a total ignoramus when it comes to music. In fact..."

(Just then a big, beefy six-foot six guys in a tank top and basketball shorts walks in, sees the girl and walks up to the table)

"Hey, there you are. Where've you been?"

(the girl at the table turns and talks to him)

"It's about time you showed up."

(I turn and smile)

"Hi, I'm Tony."

"And I'm Biff and this is my girl so why don't you take a hike you old fart."

"Old fart? Who are you calling..."

"I said take a hike, grandpa. What's the matter? Did you lose your hearing aid or something?"

"Oh Biff, leave him alone. He isn't hurting anyone."

(Biff turns back to her)

"He's bugging me. Christ, where'd you find an old bag 'o bones like this anyways. "

"We were just having a nice conversation about this book I'm reading."

"What book?"

"This one. See."

"What? Thus Spoke Zair a thrust ra by Fry'd Rich Nye It Zzz Chay? What the hell is that?"

"It's German, and it's Nietzche not Nye It Zzz Chay."

"Oh, it's German. Excuse me"

"Don't be such a dork. You know there are still some people in this world who actually read books. Not everyone just sits around and oils their muscles all day. "

"Books? Who needs books when I got you, baby."

(Biff gives the girl a playful poke and then continues)

"C'mon, let's get out of here."

"No. I want to finish a couple of more chapters."

"How long will that take?"

"I don't know. An hour maybe."

"An hour. Baby, I can't wait that long. I got things to do."

"Well, go do your things then. I want to stay in here where it's cool and finish a couple of more chapters."

(Biff gives her another playful poke, and another, and another. The girl starts to giggle)

"Stop it, Biff (hee hee). I mean it. Stop poking me (hee hee hee). You're being a jerk."

"A jerk? That's not what you said last night."

(Biff pokes her some more and I begin to feel a little nauseous)

"Biff, I'm warning you. You better stop (hee hee hee). Biff. No. Stop. (hee hee hee). Biff."

"C'mon. You don't need to finish that book now. Let's go."

(the red faced girl closes her book and grabs her purse, then pauses to look at me)

"It was nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you too. I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

"Good luck with your music lessons or whatever it was you were talking about."

"No, I'm too old for music lessons. You know I open the refrigerator door and half the time I can't even remember what I came to get in the first place. How am I going to able to remember all those notes."

"Yeah, well...enjoy your coffee. It was nice talking to you."

(Biff turns to me)

"Yeah, enjoy your coffee and better luck next time grandpa. Ha,ha,ha,ha,ha..."

(they leave the coffee house and the waiter comes over to the table)

"Say do you know who that was you were talking to?"

"No. Who?"

"I don't know, but I hear she's really famous."

"Oh well, she seemed nice."

"Yeah. She's been in here before. Hey, you weren't trying to hit on her were you? A man your age. I thought you'd be too tired to go chasing after young chicks like that."

"Let me tell you something young man. Someday you'll be old like me and yes there will be many things in this world that will make me tired. You'll get tired of getting up in the morning, you'll get tired of the noise and the traffic, you'll get tired of climbing stairs and standing in lines, and going to the doctor and taking pills and watching what you eat all the time. You'll get tired of oatmeal. You'll get tired of the crime and the violence and the greed and the whole world going to hell in a handbasket. You'll get tired of many, many things, but I promise you one thing you'll never get tired of is the sight of a pretty girl."

"Yeah, I guess you're right, but at a certain point you just got to let it go, don't you. I mean, who wants to be a dirty old man."

"You let it go, not me. Imagine the world without pretty girls. What a pitiful place that would be. Nothing to do but live out the meaningless pain of existence. Have you ever read Nietzche?"

"Nah. But the name is familiar."