Ravishing Beauty

Norman: I think it is quite apparent. Very apparent. Obvious. That I have not nor will I ever cease missing her. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times she tells me to go to Hell. I just cannot stop loving everything about her.

Nathan: You’ve never met her though. Right?

Norman: Not in so many words, my friend. But I love her. If you love someone…. You love them. You don’t have to have met them and spent countless hours getting to know each other and baring each other’s souls to each other when you were predestined to be soul mates, confidantes, best friends and all that jazz. I cannot wait until she begins returning my calls. She’s playing hard to get. I don’t much care for such games, but they’re inevitable with the human condition we’re currently faced with. Where should I take her when we meet?

Nathan: I don’t know. Maybe a bridge or maybe she’ll just take you to the station.

Norman: You are a funny guy. Yes you are. One day you’ll find someone as I have. Until then continue being the sarcastic, emotionally unavailable fellow you are right now. Some nice restaurant. Where else do people go? I really ought to spend more time with people. You know, talking to them about their careers. Their families. Drinking with them. Playing cards with them. I don’t even know what people say to each other. I know they enjoy ripping other people to shreds. Gossiping. A tabloid culture, see? It’s fine. I’ll figure out what she wants to talk about very quickly. I need a drink. Maybe a smoke. Maybe death. Ah well. I’ll go with a drink. What do you have, Numbnuts?

Nathan: Get something yourself.

Norman: Very well. I want to kill you. I’m kidding. But I’m not yet. But I am. Okay. We’ve had our fun. Let’s move on. I want to kill her, right? Of course I do. That’s how I operate. I’m not entirely sure of what I’m saying or feeling at this moment. I feel confused and lighthearted because I am so deeply in love with a woman I have yet to meet. It’s very exhilarating yet confusing and frightening. But I don’t really want to kill anyone although at times I often feel if someone killed me, yes, I could understand that and accept that most readily. So, tell me, when are you going to fall in love?

Nathan: After my Mother croaks. She should be dead within the month. Many people have assumed I am in love with my Mother. I am unmarried and 27. Obviously at 27 if you’re not married you’re either a homosexual or you possess an Oedipal complex. Very witty, profound times we live in, correct? I don’t think much about falling in love. I’ve been with many women or ones who claimed they were women and were worth my time. I had fun and some laughs with all of them, but I don’t know if I ever had anything remotely resembling love with any of them, which is fine because I don’t even enjoy thinking about love or accepotance or snuggling or dreaming or any of that hogwash. I was going to take a walk this afternoon, but I found myself lying on my bed, wondering where everything went wrong, but then I didn’t want to think of such pessimistic things any longer so I found the remote control and switched the television on. I watched some self-help shows where nothing was answered really. Nothing solved. After that I watched some sitcomes that showed to me that we are all very desperate to forget about all our problems and the lies we lead every day. But then I didn’t want to be so negative so I headed out and I sat on the front stoop for a few moments, and Mrs. Miller comes by. Naturally she wants to talk. We talk about her children. How their schooling is going. As though I care. As though she really cares about the health of my Mother. Anyway, after seven minutes of mindless, time-consuming chatter she decides it is time she gets home to do some housecleaning or some such rubbish. I sigh and head back inside. When I am inside I decide I need to buy some food since there is none. But I’m not sure if I have any money. I head up to my room, discover that I have quite a bit. So I head to the store… and none of this matters. None of it is interesting. So let’s talk about something that can entertain and transform both of us.

Norman: When will she be coming?

Nathan: I don’t think she will be coming here. If I remember correctly you told her to meet you at the train station.

Norman: Well, that was incredibly stupid of me. I don’t even know where the train station is. We don’t even have a train station, do we?

Nathan: No. Just imagine how confused and slighted she must feel.

Norman: What time did I ask her to meet her there?

Nathan: 5 PM yesterday.

Norman: Oh, well, that presents a bit of a pickle.

Nathan: She might have traveled the entire universe to find a train station though so maybe she isn’t too upset yet.

Norman: Yes. Perhaps. I do choose incredibly stupid women.

Nathan: You are an incredibly stupid man.

Norman: Quite right.

Nathan: I am beginning to feel that there is no true plot or resolution to our lives. To our stories. How do you feel about this latest feeling of mine?

Norman: You’re just expecting too much. You want to be entertained and changed whenever you watch or read anything. Fortunately for you and I no one will ever watch or read the context, the content of our lives which is most fortunate. Unless. No there is no unless. I was being a bit silly for a moment. I might be losing my mind. I have always worried about that. I am a strange, silly sort of fellow.

Nathan: Huh. I am a bit bored. Perhaps I should have a job or a hobby instead of just of mysteriously be able to survive without working oir caring or doing anything. And have all the time of the world to talk of how nothing makes sense, and how hopeless I feel about my fate in this life, but having no idea how to change the way my life has taken. I’m like a character out of a Russian play or a John Cheever novel or short story. Have you ever read those authors?

Norman: Oh, sure, from time to time when I am considering murder. Now, let’s move a little further, please. You’re beginning to bore me with your boredom. I don’t wish to be bored or to become any sort of a recluse. Although I am not any good at speaking to other human beings, I still want them to like me because…. I don’t want to feel all alone at the end of the day. I seem to be obsessed with that. Where is she?

Nathan: There is no train station.

Norman: Oh yes. Right. I often forget these things. I must look for her. I’d go to the ends of the earth. I don’t much care for clichés but when they’re true you must say them. I feel futile now though. Do I dare really search for this woman? Am I sure she’s a woman? I’ve only left her a voicemail and I received the number from an anonymous source who assured me she was a ravishing beauty. Hmm. I don’t love her anymore. I was foolish. I was blind. She is probably not a she. I have moved on. Okay. I’m depressed but this too shall pass, my friend. It always does. Okay. What would you like to do?

Nathan: I am not at all sure about this friendship of ours. Neither one of us seem to be all too stable. We have both lost our minds. We’re both depressed, confused and insane. We need to be locked up. Why are we not locked up? Oh, look, at the lawn out there. Is that a pheasant. It surely is. A majestic bird.

Norman: Yes. Surely. Beautiful. You might be right. We’re…. not very good. Either of us. What have we been thinking?

Nathan: Are you heading to the train station then?

Norman: I suppose. I don’t know what else to do.

Nathan: I love you, friend although we’ll never speak again.

Norman: As do I love you. Fare-thee-well.

(Exits.)

Nathan: Are you dead yet, Mother?
Mother: Give me another week.

Nathan: Hurry up.

(End.)