Things that are tagged monologues

On FedEx

Posted on September 26, 2003 by Porter Mason

FedEx, I’m… I’m sorry I wasn’t there.

I thought maybe the package would come on Friday, that I’d have Thursday to run some errands. But, once again, you’re more than on time. (sigh) And so I sit here now on Friday, waiting for you. Fearing that condescending look I’ll get when you finally do come. But I’ll be here today, I promise. I ordered Next-Day Air because I wanted that printer the next day, I swear. I want you here. I do. I’ll be here.

It says you came at 3:17 pm yesterday. Makes sense. I had just run up to the bank, and that must’ve been at around 3 or so. 3:17. Did you have to be so mockingly specific on your delivery notice? I just stepped out for a second. You can’t expect me to put my life on hold while I wait for you.

I’ll be here today. I was going to have lunch with Becky, but you know what I did? I cancelled. For you. So don’t tell me I don’t care. I’m trying to make this work. I want this package delivered, too. Maybe more than you do. (sigh) Fine, probably not more than you. But I do want it. I do.

I’m wearing those pants you said you liked. (sigh) Not that you’ll notice. Not that you ever notice any damn thing about my appearance. “Sign here.” So cold. So impersonal. We only have so much time with one another, and you have to keep your guard up like that. When you ring the doorbell… it’s just us two at the front door, you know. There’s no one else watching. Would it kill you to occasionally ask how I’m doing? Or what’s new in my life? Or, God forbid, tell me you love me?

And don’t think I don’t know about that little bitch over on the corner of Pinewood and the Boulevard. I know what goes on over there. I’m not blind. I see you over there every week. Maybe I don’t get as many deliveries as her. Maybe I don’t. But you look me in the eye and tell me I don’t order higher total net weight. You just tell me. You bring up our accounts online, and you compared them over the last two fiscal quarters, and you tell me that.

And maybe I did have a few things brought over by Airborne Express. Maybe I did. Maybe I liked it. Maybe I liked the way I was treated there. Maybe I’m only still using FedEx for purchases I make using my Visa because of the low Small Business Rate offered. Ever thought of that?! Maybe you’re just convenient. Maybe I don’t really need you. Maybe, once I switch over the lion’s share of the company’s purchasing to the Mastercard, and we move our warehouse down to Poughkeepsie, maybe I’ll just drop our whole account with you and not give a good God damn about it!

What? No! I was just kidding! What do you mean my tracking number isn’t showing up? No, that’s bullshit, wait! It was just there, I… I have a confirmation number, you can’t… don’t leave, I was just…. I… I… love you…. (sigh)

You found it?!? It’s on it’s way? In the truck right now? Wait, that’s the door bell! “Sign here”!?! I will! I will sign right there, you wonderful beautiful man, I knew you wouldn’t ever leave me, I knew we shared something special, I knew — oh, yes, thank you, I’ll put it with the other receipts — I knew if I just gave you time, you’d prove yourself to me! What? Yes! Yes, I will have good day! You have a good day, too! You have a great day! I know I will because I know that I have a man who loves me, who– w–… where are you… going?

Wait, no! I thought we–…. Should I just… thanks for the printer, it– sorry about yesterday! I was at the bank! The bank, I– (sob) don’t go, don’t– I… sorry about today, too, I (sob) didn’t mean it, you know how I get, I… (sniff) goodbye. Goodbye.

Man. I wish I’d gotten the insurance on this shipment, FedEx. What? No, no, my package isn’t broken.

But my heart sure is.

Porter

On Drinking a Whole Glass of Rat Poison

Posted on October 8, 2003 by Porter Mason

A man would have to ingest an entire glass of rat poison to die from it. That seems almost impossible. It’s not. Here is how that very thing could happen:

Hey, who left this out here on the table? This glass, I mean? There’s just a full glass of something here on this table. Well, anyway, if no one’s going to claim it, I’m real thirsty, so I’m gonna… you know, “down the hatch”, heh.

(gulp)

BLEARGH! That was really terrible! I mean really awful! Good Lord! Blah! Wait, is this-… is this rat poison? Did I just drink a sip of rat poison? Is that why this glass is sitting out here next to this open package of rat poison? I can’t believe this. Seriously? This is rat poison? Did I really drink rat poison? I don’t really believe that was rat poison. I’m having another sip, just to prove it to myself.

(gulp)

SWEET JESUS! Bleagh! That is definitely rat poison! Someone definitely poured out a glass of rat poison (why they would do this, I have no idea), and I just drank it two sips of it! Good God. Oh my Lord that is a terrible taste. It tastes like burning chemicals or some sort of evil foul horsradish. Oh Lord. My God. I’ve got to get this taste out of my mouth. I need to drink something, anything, to get this horrible taste out of my mouth. Oh, thank God, here’s a glass of something.

(gulp)

OH SWEET LORD ABOVE ME! That was the rat poison glass! Gleeargh! Ptfuie! My God. I was so desparate to drink something I completely forgot this was the glass with the rat poison, so now I have the taste even more in my mouth. It’s like a sort of acidic bolt of lightning right in my stomach and mouth and cheeks and neck and I think some of it got in my eyes, too. Actually, definitely, I definitely got some in my eyes because things are really blurry now. So the poison is either affecting my eyes or I got some in them directly. Or it’s possible I dropped my contacts. Actually, I think I see one, a contact lens. Right there on the bottom left side of that glass of rat poison. Let me just lift the glass up to my eyes to see it. I’ll just rest it on my mouth to hold it steady. And now I’ll tilt the end of the glass closer to my eyes to better see the–

(gulp)

BAH BAH BAH BAAAAAH! Thptuie! Oh my dear sweet Lord! Blech. Blah. I ended up drinking more rat poison! Oh my Lord Lord Lord. That did not go as planned, and I still didn’t find my contact. I do not feel well. I feel sort of woozy. This rat poison is really screwing up my system. I better sit down here. Just get my wits together. Now. What just happened here? Where am I? OK, I’m in David’s house. Right. And I don’t feel well. B’ooh. Jesus. I really feel terrible. Why do I feel like this again? I wanna say it’s because I… drank rat poison? That seems stupid. Why would I drink rat posion? I wanna say it’s because I’ve drank now a good four fifths of a glass of rat poison. But that just seems implausible. I need to get my head together and figure out what really happened here. I need to just take a Tylenol, clear my head, get some sleep, and figure out what happened. Let me just take this Tylenol and–… oh, here we go, here’s some water. A couple of Tylenols, and we will be back in business.

(gulp)

OH MY LORD JESUS I WAS RIGHT ON THE MONEY EARLIER I SHOULD NEVER DOUBT MYSELF LIKE THAT WOW! Gah. Definitely rat poison. And as I recall I’ve drank almost this whole glass, as it was totally full when I got in here, as I seem to remember, and I’m not doubting my instincts anymore. Wow. I drank everything in this glass full of rat posion except this one sip. Seems… almost… I mean, seems like I may as well… it just seems silly to… I mean no one ever called me a quitter. And what kind of a story is it to say, “You know, once I drank almost an entire glass of rat poison?” That’s no kind of story. I’m… Jesus Lord, I’m drinking this rat poison.

(gulp)

GOD! Yeah! Yeah! Who’s the fuckin’ man?! Ha ha! I just drank a glass full of rat poison! Ha ha! Just wait till I tell David I drank a glass full of his rat poison. That dude will flip. Heh. Unless I die. Whoa. Holy shit. Am I going to die from this? Jesus. Wait, nah, I’m not gonna die. I decided to drink that last sip of rat poison, so I must’ve thought I wouldn’t die. And what did I learn before? To never doubt myself. This guy ain’t dying. This guy is gonna live forever. Ha ha! Ha ha! Ha– whoa… BLEAEARGHPTFUIBLEAUGHTHHHPPPPBBBHTTTRRRRRGH!

(dies)

Now what is the moral here? Well there are two. The first of which is:

Never doubt your instincts, unless you are a huge tool that does things like drink rat poison accidentally. Then, you might wanna doubt your instincts all the time.

And secondly, and we can’t stress this enough:

Do not drink anything you think might at all possible be rat poison (or any kind of poison, moron).

Thank you.

Porter

On Emasculation in the Elevator

Posted on December 15, 2003 by Porter Mason

(the door opens, two guys get in) Hmm? Oh, I’m going to the 19th floor. Thanks.

Right, yeah, the ad firm. That’s, heh, that’s me. The ad firm. You’re with… Ray’s Pizza? Or is that…?

Oh, OK, yeah, we… order from there a lot.

Oh, well, you know, different stuff, I do a lot of computer stuff, designing things, ads, and what-not. Well, for, like, I don’t know, a lot of it for people you wouldn’t know. We did a thing for Adidas last year, that’s the last one that–

Right, yeah, the shoes. Well, this particular one was in Rolling Stone; it was, like, these– a young woman and a young man running on the beach, a picture of them, and then you know, just some text, words, on the bottom. I laid it out, and–

Yeah, she was… you know, heh, pretty hot, yeah.

Well, I wasn’t at the shoot– When we took the pictures, I wasn’t there, so I… you know.

Yeah, well, there are some cute girls who work up there, yeah.

No.

Heh, heh… no.

No.

Look, no, I haven’t. If you don’t mind, I’m not feeling well, and I didn’t really expect to have a big conversation right now, OK? Thank you.

Look. Sorry. I’m– I asked one of the girls in my office out recently, at this company… thing, and she, you know, shot me down, and… a lot of people were there, so… yes, there are some cute girls there, but… they’re… not for me, I guess? OK? That’s all I meant.

She, well, OK, hmm… she has dark hair, like brown, comes about to here. She has glasses, thick rims, those glasses, you know, those ones that everybody, yeah, right, and…. Like this tall, about.

Yeah, a white girl.

Yeah.

Heh, yes, she has nice… breasts. But, look, it doesn’t matter, right? So…. I dunno; she’s seeing some guy I think.

Yeah, probably.

Heh, yeah, I guess. But like I said, I wasn’t at the shoot, so I didn’t meet the Adidas Girl.

Yeah.

Thanks, I just got it actually. This is the first time I’m wearing it.

Um, heh, well, yeah, I do OK.

Eh, no, not quite.

No, not… quite.

No.

No.

No.

About that much, yeah.

Well, it’s my first year here.

Yeah, well, it’s a very competitive market, you know? Look, I don’t want to know–

I didn’t ask you what you make, and maybe that’s because I don’t really want to know? Ever thought of that?

Look, you know, I’m sorry. I mean, yes, I’d like to be doing better, but this is it for me right now, and that’s how it goes.

Yeah, I did though. Last month. “There’s not room in the budget this quarter,” is what they said, but it’s bullshit because–

Yeah, well, it is all bullshit, you’re right.

Ha! Yeah, they don’t know what they’re missing.

Yeah, her too! Heh.

Well, I don’t know if I’d say it’d be the… “fuck of her life”, but, yeah, I do think I’d, you know… I could make her happy.

Heh, aw, I dunno.

Heh, look, let’s not get into–

Heh, sure, yeah, “I’m a big guy,” OK? Ha ha, OK.

Heh, look, I–

No, not quite that big, heh, but–

No, I mean, no one’s actually that big, man. No.

Look it’s big enough, OK? Why don’t we–

No.

No.

No.

No.

No. Look, I said I wouldn’t tell you so you’re purposely guessing in really small increments in order to–

I don’t want to tell a total stranger the size of–

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

Four and a quarter!!! OK?! You happy now? Is everyone fucking happy?! I haven’t had a girlfriend in five years, I apparently make less than a god damned pizza delivery guy, and my penis is four and a half inches long!! You happy?!

Fine!! four and a quarter, whatever the hell I said before!! God damn it! Why–

What?!

Oh. Fuck. Yeah, I guess it is on 18 and not 19. (sigh) Fuck…. thanks.

Yeah, sure, “see you later,” too.

What?

No, don’t worry about it, I don’t–

Well, sure, but don’t worry about it, I–

What? Well, yeah… yes, I guess I do!

Yes! Yes, yes, yes! (he gets out, the elevator door closes)

(sigh) No.

Porter