The Call

Robert and Carl

Robert: So…

Carl: Yeah?

Robert: Wasn’t that game great last night?

Carl: Sure was…… which one?

Robert….. Any of them.

Carl: Oh, yeah, that was….. Great. Just great.

Robert: Yeah, it’s astounding what they can do with that ball.

Carl: Yeah. It’s a very lofty ball. Incredible.

Robert: Sure….. You ever get a feeling to express yourself?

Carl: ….. No. Not really. Not at all. Well, maybe. It’s hard to say.

Robert: Yeah…..

Carl: I need to get back.

Robert: Where?

Carl: Uhhh….. Yeah…. Ummmm…. I gotta go

Robert: Oh, okay… sure, I…. Okay.

Carl: Yeah. See ya.

Robert: Yeah.

Carl: (Leaves)

Robert: (Looks around. He doesn’t have any idea what he’s going to do. He picks up a book. He stares at it. It cannot hold his interest. He flings it down. He is morose and feels a lack of distinction and direction. He is at a loss. He flips on the TV. He channel surfs some. He can’t find anything to hold his debilitating interest. It is entirely possible he is clean out of patience and interest. It happens to the best of us. He flips off the TV. He begins pacing the room. He looks left and right. He has a panicked expression on his face. He begins muttering to himself. He paces faster and faster. He appears to become more and more crazed and lonely and anguished as he paces. He finally goes to the sink, fills up a cup of water. He drinks it down. He fills it up again. Drinks it down. He notices there’s a plant that has not been watered recently so he fills up the cup of water, goes to the plan to water it. He still appears quite sad and defeated. He looks around frantically, not knowing what to do. The Hurt is prevalent. It cannot and will not subside. He goes to the phone. He looks down at it. He hesitates. He continues to hesitate. He picks it up. He stares at it. He continues to stare, he sweats…. A tear comes to his eye, he sweats, he begins muttering to himself… he is scared and without purpose or reason…. He has entered a stream of conscuiousness phrase…… what will he do? He dials a number. He waits. He launches into a soliloquy) Hey there, ya stupid s****y b***h. How the f**k are you? You are f*****g gabrage, you stupid w***e. I want to fuxck you every f*****g which way. Oh, you think you’re pretty f*****g high and mighty, huh?” You’re just another f*****g w***e who needs a good gangbanging. I’m gonna come over there and I’m going to strip you and tie you down and rape you to an inch of your life. You have never met a man like me. You have never seen such a rod of revenge before. I am a god. I am a king. I am a sultan of sex and debauchery and you will feel my perfection tonight, you f*****g s**t.

 

Amy: Who is this? You sound perturbed.

Robert: Ummm… (He falters a little then returns to his alternate persona) Listen, s**t…

Amy: Actually, my name is Amy. Not s**t. (Amy should be bubbly and kind and patient. She is not upset. She is very matter of fact.) I don’t know how you have made such a mistake. It’s usually not the wisest decision to call a woman a s**t. I don’t know where you have learned to do such a thing. Maybe this is a form of overcompensation? Is that it? You sound crazed and lonely. I’m sorry. Those things do happen. I’ve read a little about those who make obscene phone calls. Without treatment there really isn’t much they can do aboput these desires. I suppose it’s not the worst way to express yourself. None of you ever go on homicidal sprees or anything. Although, in a world as bad off as ours I understand how people can snap. This isn’t always the most lovely or magical of places. But, here I am digressing as you’re experiencing some sort of psychotic break. I apologize. I have a tendency to talk a little much at times. So, what’s up?

Ropbert: (Completely thrown off) I am goig to f**k you so hard…

Amy: No, honey. I’m sorry. I have no interest in that. I’m sure you’re a lovely man, but I just got out of a treally bad relationship. He didn’t have a condition like yours. He just didn’t listen. I would be telling him about some hurtful experience I had had that day, and he would just be staring at the tube, not listening or paying any attention. I would be pouring my heart out, and he would just say… “what? Did you say something?” He meant well. He wasn’t maliciously rude. I’m sure he even cared, but we certainly weren’t meant for each other. I still think of him fondly. I hope he’s doing well. I’ve dated my share of men, but nothing ever quite works out. It would be nice to feel that oh so important connection, but it doesn’t happen…. But…. I’m really worried about you, honey. You just sound so sad. Oh, sure, you put on the bravado of wanting to f**k me, and you call me some nasty names (Shame on you, honey, condition or no condition) but I get it. I understand those nights when you wander around your apartment or the streets, and you’re literally extending your arms, looking for some sort of human compassion and companionship. It’s perfectly natural, but there has to be a healthier way for you to deal with this disconnection from humanity. Are you on any meds or do you see a therapist? I know those options don’t always work, but there something worth looking into. I had a therapist fotr a while. He wasn’t very nice though. I would walk into therapy and he’s basically say “So, you’re still depressed and unfulfilled, huh? Have you considered feeling another way?” Again, he wasn’t meaning to be mean or rude, he just has a difficult time expressing himself, and talking to others… which is probably an occupational hazard for someone whose living is dealing with the emotionally troubled and fragile, but people are contradictory like that. I had a few other therapists, too. They always seemed really upset when they couldn’t help me so they would kindly tell me to get lost, and seek counsel elsewhere. I went through mindfulness training, and meditation. I changed my diet. I cut out gluten. No one knows what glueten is, but we all know it affects us in negative ways. I exercised some./ I still do. It became my routine, but it didn’t cure anything, but, hey, at least I lost some weight… so, that was nice, yeah? Awww but I shouldn’t be annoying you with my problems, I’m able to function for the most part. But you’re hurting so much that you call up random people, and berate them senselessly because you have resigned yourself to a fate where communication becomes absolutely impossible. I understand the feeling. I often feel I should cut out talking altogether. Become a mime. Often I read and read and read… and the more I read the less I seem to know so then I put the book down, and veg out in front of the TV for weeks, I give up trying to be imaginative or intelligence because it asll seems so futile, but, then, I feel so guilty for not reading, and attempting to expand my mind when there are so many people out there, born into poverty and ignorance who never had the chance to have anything in the wauy of literacy or education. It makes me sad, and I wish I could help them. I wish no one had to suffer in this world, and, yet, what can be done about it? When oftentimes therapy and medication doesn’t work, and even if they do then you become a shell of your former self, and even if that keeps you from wanting to jump out a window, you still don’t feel whole. You become zombiefied. It’s just so sad, and it’s why I can never get mad at anyone. No matter how mean or rude or impossible they’re being, I just realize they must be hurting quite a lot to do such things…. Perhaps I enable them, but what else can one do in such a fallen and anguished universe?

Robert: Ummm…. Listen, B***h…

Amy: Awww there’s a kitty on my deck. She looks forlorn. She must have wandered away from her home. I wonder what happened. I wonder if she feels dislocated like yourself. I doubt she makes obscene phone calls though. Isn’t that a cute image though? This little kitty cat, so lonely and hurt, that she calls up random strangers, and begins swearing at them, saying she wants to do unspeakable acts to them? It would be a funny internet short for sure. It could easily go virile. I think I’ll put out some tuna and milk for her. I’ll stay on the phone as I do it. You can talk. I’ll be here.

Robert: Listen, b***h, I am going to f**k you. I love your big b***s and I know you’re hairy down there, and I am going to pulverize your whole s****y body because…. Because….. (He can’t go on)

Amy: Oh, are you still there? (Has put out the tuna and milk for the kitty) Honey? Are you there?

Robert: Yeah

Amy: Is everything okay?

Robert: No

Amy: Awww. Want to talk about it? Is that a possibility?

Robert: Don’t know. So tired. So ill. So not okay.

Amy: I know….

Robert: Yeah.

Amy: Well

Robert: I’ll leave you alone

Amy: You don’t have to do that

Robert: Yeah. (Hangs up and looks around. Phone rings. He picks up.)

Amy: I star 69’ed you. You didn’t block your number. You should do that if you make more of these calls… I understand why you do these things although I don’t approve, but, still, I understand and qwomn’t press charges, but many people will, so that’s something for you to think about in the future. Anyway, are you sure you don’t want to talk?

Robert: Ummm….

Amy: Take your time.

 

(The end.)