Everything has its price in this modern day and age, so why shouldn't finding your soulmate be the same? There should be soulmate phonelines, soulmate newspaper advertisements, soulmate spam, and soulmate brothels ...
Scene 1:
A set of train tracks running through a run-down industrial area of town. On the left there is a sign saying 'The Wrong Side of Town', on the right, there is a sign saying 'The Wronger Side of Town'.
A hat crosses over the tracks from 'The Wrong Side' to 'The Wronger Side'. As it approaches the camera, it becomes clear that it is not actually a hat, but just a man wearing a hat. He is hunched into his overcoat, so much so, that his overcoat is an undercoat to a second overcoat, which in turn is ...
His eyes flick back and forth, suspicious of watchers. He walks down a street that is so shady, that even the shadows have shadows. It's the seedy area of town - sesame seed stores run down one side of the street, and poppy seed stores on the other.
Finally, he approaches a building, flicks one last wary look backwards, then enters inside ...
The camera pans slowly around the dusty, dirty dive, lingering on the faded carpet on the floor and the faded carp on the walls. Lounging around on lounges that are missing one or two arms; or two, three, or four legs are a series of middle-aged women, wearing glasses, and idly reading copies of Montaigne's Collected Essays, The Genealogy of Morals by Nietzsche, and Aristotle's Ethics.
The camera pans to a desk sitting in one corner of this shabby dive, which is manned by a woman chewing gum and looking bored, doing a copy of the latest Loveatt's Latin Crossword with her pen. The man (who shall now be known as Smith, for that is his name) takes off his hat and approaches this counter ...
Smith: (Looking around shiftily) Ha ... ha ... hi, are you the receptionist?
Girl Behind Counter: Naaaaaah, love ... I'm not a receptionist, I'm the frigging Easter Bunny. Of course I'm the receptionist, now can I receive you?
Smith: Um ... ha ha ... yeah, I'm looking for a fulfilling, emotionally deep, but passionate relationship with my soulmate? That lasts for, um, at least ten minutes?
GBC: Sure thing, hon. We do that all the time. But what about sex? Are you interested in any fucking?
Smith: Hey, what is this? I'm just here to get off on a pure spiritual connection! I'm not interested in any of that serious stuff!
GBC: (Rolls her eyes, chews gum, and whispers to herself, all at the same time) That's all they're always interested in. They're all the same ... (Speaking out loud) Calm down, love. We get all types here. We've got ta satisfy them all ...
Smith: I'm sorry. It's just, I ... and ... that is, I haven't ... I mean, I've never come to one of these places before, and ... look, this is kind of a one-off thing, alright? I don't mean to get serious, alright?
GBC: Okay, hon, that's alright. So what kind of soulmate are you looking for?
Smith: Um ...
GBC: We've got all types. The goddess type, that you can look up to, and worship, and adore, with a pure and chaste love; or we've got the deep and abiding friendship that turns into a love much more holy and spiritual over time; or we've got the flirtatious soulmate that shares your sense of humour, and ...
Smith: Stop! It's just the second sort that I want!
GBC: The deep and abiding friendship that turns into an eternal, spiritual love?
Smith: Yeah, but no longer than fifteen minutes.
GBC: Shall I just run through the costs for you, deary?
Smith: Ye... yes, please.
GBC: Okay. That's fifty dollars for a ten minute job, or two hundred dollars will get you an hour, or ...
Smith: Stop! I only need ten minutes! Plus, I'm not made of money.
GBC: Alright. Well, the deep and abiding friendship - Janet or Lottie specialise in that ... over there. (Pointing)
Smith: (Scanning the two) I'll take Lottie, please ... (Pointing to a girl slumped in her chair, almost asleep, with a copy of Plato's Republic.)
Lottie: (Sitting up) Sure thing, love. This way ... (They go into the corridor to find a room)
Scene 2:
Camera zooms slowly along corridor. We can hear sounds coming from doors on both sides.
Male Voice 1: Yeah! Yeah, read me some more of that Shakespeare, baby!
Male Voice 2: Oh! Say that our two souls were meant for one another, baby! Say that we were fated to meet this way - and stay together, forever! Say it, baby, say it!
Female Voice: Sure thing, honey. That's what I'm here for.
Male Voice 3: Kant's theory of eros! READ IT TO ME AGAIN!
Female Voice 2: Kan't do it, baby, if you don't have that tenner.
Male Voice 4: Oh honey - make it a Wittgenstein! Witt me, baby, one more time!
Camera finally zooms in on a door at the end of the hallway, bangs itself on the key hole, draws back. bangs itself again, draws back, then finally goes through. (Note to self: must grease key hole to stop this from happening.)
Inside, we find a bouidoir of amore, a la Casanova, Casablanca, Capablanca, or Cosi Nostra. Purple-edged purple-felt curtains line the walls, which would be quite bare without their covering. Smith is sitting on the edge of a chair in one corner of the room. Lottie casts a paltry sulk upon him, realises her mistake, and passes him a sultry pout instead.
Lottie: Excuse me while I slip out of something more comfortable ... (Making to remove her red dress, whic h she could hardly be said to be wearing anyway)
Smith: No ... NO thankyou! I ... I'm uncomfortable enough as it is...
Lottie: Aw, come on, hone ... why the frown? Turn that frown upside down, turn that pout inside out ...
Smith: I p... p... paid my money to have a soulmate for ten minutes, and I want that.
Lottie: (In a bored voice) They're always the same, they never want to do anything different ... (To Smith) Alright, honey, tell me what you want to do ...
Smith: Well ... (crosses over to Lottie and whispers in her ear)
Lottie: Well ... alright, love. But only 'cause I like you.
At this point the camera fades out. I'm not sure how, maybe by panning to the faded carpet or the faded carp on the wall, and fading. It fades in, in a similar manner, to the same scene, five minutes later. (I've run out of money for any more sets) We hear Smith's voice:
Smith: Oh! Yes! Baby! Honey! Give it to me, honey!
Lottie: (In a bored voice, wooden voice, a little like a supermodel who has just taken up acting) We were always meant to be together ...
Smith: Our two souls will become one! Yeah, baby!
Lottie: I don't believe in love at first sight. I loved you even before I saw you.
Smith: Oh! Yeah! Oh! Oh!
(Cut to Smith in chair, looking at a portrait of the Mona Lisa)
Lottie: You mean less to me than life itself ...
Smith: (Weeps happily, mopping his tears with some rose petals he has in his pocket)
Lottie: You are the very centre of my random, meaningless, pointless unexistence ...
Smith: Ohhhh yeah, me too, baby!
Lottie: (Pulling a Mills and Boom book from the bedside counter) Um, now it says here, we have to embrace.
Smith: Ah, we can skip that bit. OH!
Lottie: Oh.
Smith: OH! OH! YEAH!!!
Lottie: Oh. Yeah.
Smith: OH!!! with triple exclamation marks!!!
Lottie: Oh with two ampersands, one hyphen, and seven ironic denouments ...
Smith: Yeah, baby! YEAH, BABY, YEAH! (Having achieved his eternal union, Smith draws a cigarette out of his pocket and lights up)
That was great for me, baby, how was it for you.
Lottie: Your ten minutes are up, love.
Smith: Say ... since we've been united in eternity, maybe it'd be fun to get a divorce now ...
Lottie: (Angrily) Say, honey, what kind of a sick venmue do you think this is? You'll get your divorces - two for the price of one - at the establishment across the road. Now get out of here, I'm tired.
END
Scenes like this could be occurring right around the country - even in your town,. If you see a soulmate club - please - tell your parents immediately, before it does you any lasting harm by encouraging you in the illegal and immoral desire to make a lifelong commitment to somebody special.
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10 comments:
I'm just relieved that somebody other than me managed to get to the end of this. Bravo and well done yourself! And thanks for the compliments!
This is so insane...I may have to propose to you.
Nice bit of work. In a similar vein you might enjoy Woody Allen's 1975 short story, ``The Whore of Mensa:''
http://woodyallenitalia.tripod.com/short-uk.html
Yeah, well, I read all of it FIRST, right to the end.
Where's my prize hey?
Nails, whatever you propose, I accept.
Annalucia (great name!) I've read it, and it was in the back of my mind while I wrote this. Also some wonderful S.J. Perelman essays I've been reading.
Helen, thanks! I feel guilty now, all I ever seem to do on your blog is argue with the others ...
Caz, congratulations, your prize is here! How do you do it? Everytime I see a post more than four words long, I start to skip whole segments. I'm a lazy blog-reader ...
On that basis you NEVER read your own posts! That actually explains a great deal. Many mysteries have just been solved with that one piece of knowledge at hand.
My prize is adorable, just cleaning up the balcony now & putting in a feed trough.
Whoa... marathon blog much - very nice, exceedingly funny and ... yeh I know I'm sad ... I got to the end of it! How amazement.
I think posts read easier if the paragraphs aren't that huge or they're broken up by the occasional picture. One of my favourite blogs is Metal City; the posts are infrequent, but when they come, they're huge. It's a trial to get through to the end of them, though they are rewarding. I don't have to work nearly so much for any of my other favourite blogs!
My posts are kind of different; I'm familiar with them anyway. Sometimes the posts are sort of written 'from memory' - from quotes or ideas that I have been carrying around in my head for a while.
I find I do read the posts I'm happiest with again; it's more difficult to read the others.
Glad you all made it down here. Good to see ya, Binnsy. Now, let's get the music crankin'!
Haha, good one, boy-o. I'm glad I was able to inspire such brilliance.
See you on the train!
Yep, see you on the train!
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