Marilyn and John enjoy a massage

...a conversation between two people who won't admit they're
in love.

[? = my handwriting is illegible]

What do you mean?
J: Massages
M: Getting?
J: No, giving.
M: Aren’t you a
J: We don't allow touching here.
M: Huh? You're touching me pretty much everywhere.
J: No. I mean, have you seen people on the subway.
M: Yeah. They’re afraid.
J: Yeah. They have no libido. Calm as …
M: What about massages. You keep groping me.
J: There’s a knot there. And I need feedback. How else can I improve?
M: Yes, that’s good.
J: My hands are falling off.
M: That’s what happens
J: Do masseuses get carpal tunnal?
M: Why're we so afraid?
J: Who us?
M: No, people.
J: We’re two lovers on either side of a firewall.
M: Who - us?
J: No. People. You and I are more prosaic.
M: I don’t envy kids.
J: Huh?
M: There’s no mystery.
J: That’s been said.
M: Everything can be found. Makes you want to to go looking again.
J: When anything's possible, people tend to sleep in.
M: Very good. is that yours?
J: Yes - original.
M: Well done.
J: We need the chasm. The carrot.
M: Huh?
J: Stuff you have to jump after, pray for.
M: Nonlinear things.
J: Yeah. I dunno.
M: I don’t get it.
J: Keep it that way. Neither do I. And you’re so cute when you realize you don’t have a clue.
M: Is that so.
J: Charming you are.
M: What- a compliment?
J: It goes with the massage. I’ve got you here, chilled out, and I'm glad you've stopped biting.
M: Keep rubbing.
J: I want a fajita.
M: If people were listening to us now – what would they think?
J: I dunno.
M: Fajita?
J: they’d probly think we’re idiots. I’m constantly repeating everything you say, but as a question. And yeah I like fajitas.
M: Fill up space. No fajitas here. I can't eat Mexican on a full-body massage.
J: Fill up space?
M: We need filler time. Tempos con quesos. Cheese talk.
J: Bertrand Russell – The Conquest of Happiness
M: Conquest of who?
J: You
M: Shut up
J: Ok – of Happiness.
M: That’s better. How did he do it. Russell. The conquering.
J: Well he goes on about the value of boredom.
M: Boredom. Is my conversation getting too spicy? Mexicala m0uthiness
J: Well, overstimulated people tend not to accomplish very great things.
M: Really
J: Yep.
M: Well keep stimulating my shoulders like that and I won’t get outta bed for a week.
J: Me me me. That’s you.
M: I’m too much of a massage slut? What you gonna do about it.
J: About your slutty ways?
M: Yes.
J: I’ll keep rubbing until you reach liftoff.
M: I wish. But who will massage you when I’ve fallen asleep.
J: Probably nobody.
M: Is that why you give, so you can get?
J: We are what we lack.
M: Gord Downie.
J: I'm impressed.
M: And who am I?
J: Todd's girlfriend
Am I. So I am. A very dismal viewpoint. And what do you lack?
J: Todd's girlfriend.
M: But you aren't me.
J: I'm not so sure sometimes.
M: I lack massage.
J: The whole city does.
M: I’m selfish, I like your massages. I’m not a communist.[?]
J: Neither am I.
M: Then why do you want to massage everyone?
J: I don’t. Nice to ease the joints though.
M: You know what you really are, John?
J: I’m dying, please tell me.
M: You’re a combination of all the books you’ve ever read.
J: Tabula rasa eh. What made me pick up the first one then?
M: I don’t know.
J: And what do I want with you then
M: Well, I’m all the books you haven’t.
J: I reach for what I lack.
M: Yes. And keep reaching. And rubbing.
J: You slut.
M: Heehee
J: Something about being different on the internet [?]
M: Did what?
J: Made me feel small.
M: You are Hue of Borg.
J: Hue – who?
M: You don’t watch Star Trek. Never mind.
J: We don’t watch any of the same things any more. Don’t have to. The internet is an intensely personal thing.
M: Culture dies without consensus.
J: Yeah, and Star Wars replaced the Nativity story. I’m not sure what the internet gives us.
M: Lightning speed access to all the wrong answers.
J: Yeah. We can be dead wrong faster than ever before.
M: What would the Oracle of Delphi have thought?
J: I dunno. I’m so lambda?
M: That makes no sense.
J: Touche.
M: Yes, I'm being toushayed.
J: Massage. My hands are good for something.
M: Locked in a room with just me.
J: I was described as good at that.
M: What makes something good.
J: Harmony.
M: Like the Beatles?
J: It’s this tennis-match way we talk. Builds tension
M: Is that all it takes to keep interest?
J: Rhythm
M: What happened to harmony?
J: People should get married based only on longterm conversational potential. Find their life rhythm.
M: Yes
J: But I can play with any band.
M: Accompaniment. Stop showing off and keep massaging.
The big people in the world will always outshout the small.
M: Huh
J: It’s a fraud. Democracy. Far cry from Athens.
M: Huh?
J: The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversaton with the average voter.
M: Who said that?
J: I think it was Winston Churchill
M: You need more faith in people, John. They do what is expected of them.
J: The My Fair Lady effect. Julie Andrews. George Bernard Shaw, legend of Pygmalion.
M: Huh. How do I know anything? You read too much.
J: Oh I’m thinking of selling my spare iPod.
M: You with an iPod - you're such a sheep.
J: Go to hell


J: What if Todd was here, what would he say? How'd he defend his libido.
M: He’d be angry
J: Why're you attracted to him anyway?
M: Tall.
J: Huh?
M: Height. He’s tall.
J: That is so offensive you have no idea
M: Why? What's wrong with liking tall guys.
J: For the same reason me expressing my fondness for big-breasted women is offensive to you.
M: Am I offended by that?
J: At least a woman can get implants if she wants a bigger chest. A man is stuck with his height. There is no justification. It’s a Neanderthal prejudice.
M: Are you being a whiny suck?
J: Yes.
M: For a guy who makes fun of midgets as much as you do, I think you’re being a bit hypocritical with your outrage over my height preferences.
J: Consistency is a tall order.
M: Stop it. What will satisfy you?
J: You don’t want me to tell you.
M: I already know.
J: It’s not you.
J: Other people can’t make me happy.
M: You don’t give other people much credit do you.
J: I don’t know when I lost my faith in people. But no I didn't mean that as a pessimistic thing.
M: You disguise with niceness. But really it’s like all your expectations of people have evaporated.
J: So? My point is only I can make me happy.
M: Soon you will be a hermit.
J: Go to hell. It’s the green light I want.
M: What green light?
J: The green light at the end of the dock.
M: Easy, Gatsby. You read too much.
J: Not true – I’ve never read Shakespeare.
M: So what. Neither did Shakespeare.
J: Did what?
M: Read Shakespeare.
J: No but I’ve read Pope.
M: I don’t believe in the guy.
J: The pope is just a guy. Did you know Alexander Pope was practically a midget? Seriously - like 4'6". I guess you wouldn't have married him.
M: When I get the chance to marry the pope, I'll let you know ok. You’re doing great with the massage by the way.
J: Thanks for the feedback. I like to do a good job.
M: Who will notice if you don't?
J: I will.
M: You’re one of the greats, John.
J: Takes one to know one.
J: There is something about you that is carved in stone.
M: Funny, in the mirror nothing seems familiar.
J: Is this turning into an emo song?
M: No - I don't listen to cool music
J: Perfect foil. You’re the woman a man can…
M: Me? Not one of your downtown narcissists
J: I feel sorry for 'modern women'.
M: Why?
J: If feminism is genetic, then feminists are doomed to extinction.
M: Huh.
J: They aren't exactly out there getting pregnant.
M: Don’t be an idiot. It’s a cultural thing. It’s learned into society, you men are stuck with it, Deal with it.
J: Like a cultural meme.
M: Huh.
J: Exactly.
M: Stop it.
J: What – feminism?
M: No, get up.
J: ...
M: Thanks for the massage.
J: No problem. Where are you going.
M: Take a chair John. Now it’s your turn.
J: Rock on.



hemlock h said...

thank you :-)

char said...

merry christmas to you too! i'm in hamilton for boxing day cause john's running a race here, but i'll be in toronto for the rest of the week. we should hang out and explore stuff. i'll call you.