“I dunno ’bout this, dude.”
“Dude. Ya gotta be able ta say ‘no’ if it ain’t right for ya.”
“Ha ha. What ain’t right is OC. Ever since Quilly got that job in Sin City, he’s kinda gone off his rocker, know what I mean?”
“He ain’t that old! Even if he does have one in tha livin’ room, I ain’t seen him fall outa it yet!”
“Not tha chair, dude! Tha skull. Tha noggin. He’s gettin’ ta be a head case!”
“I thought tha skull was a head case.”
“Dammit, dude, you know what I mean!”
“Yeah, but how can ya tell? This is OC we’re talkin’ about.”
“OK, he’s always been a little off; chasin’ specks nobody’s ever heard of wit’ microscopes ‘ll do that ta anybody. But he drags this ratty ol’ bicycle that he’s had fer, like, ferever, outa a corner where it’s sat fer years, dusts it off, gets on it, rides ’round town fer like a week, an’ only then figures it ain’t, like, Tour de France material? I mean, get a clue, dude!”
“Get a new one? Bike, I mean, though a new clue might help too.”
“As cheap as OC is? Dream on. But then he starts talkin’ wit’ Quilly ’bout it, an’ things really get weird. I mean, dig this …”
“Eavesdroppin’, dude?”
“Like we gotta choice?”
“Yeah, there’s that …”
===========================
He: “So you know how people around here say they’ve got ‘island cars’?”
She: “Yeah?”
He: “So I pulled the bicycle out of the corner of the garage where it’s sat for I don’t know how long. Definitely an ‘island bicycle’ now. Just like the cars. Kinda rusty, kinda dirty, and the wheels ain’t true, but it gets me there and back.”
She: “Um … the wheels lie?”
He: “Yeah, but fortunately not like a rug, otherwise there wouldn’t be any ‘there and back’. And before you get any more ideas, they aren’t fickle either, otherwise same thing.”
She: “Aladdin’s rug did ‘there and back’.”
He: “That was a carpet. Mere rugs would have just sat there and laughed at Aladdin.”
She: “You’ve never slipped on a rug, have you? One second you’re there, and the next, you’re on your back.”
He: “Yeah, but that’s the floor’s doing, not the rug’s.”
She: “I disagree. That rug didn’t lie like a rug, it flipped like a traitor, and I’ve got the lumps to prove it. But we were talking about the lying wheels on your square tired bicycle.”
He: “My bicycle is not square. It might be slightly out of fashion …”
She: “Sweetheart, that bicycle’s so old, fashion hadn’t been invented yet. It’s very, very tired, and …”
He: “Are you saying it’s too tired?”
She: “Yes!”
He: “Well duh! It’s a bicycle! Put any more tires on, and you get a tricycle, a tetracycle, a pentacycle, etc. etc., and why would you do that? And no, I’m not riding a unicycle at my age.”
She: “Just replace it, will you please? Or at least get it fixed?”
He: “Fixed?”
She: “Yes. Fixed.”
He: “Wow. I never considered that. Though I’ve always been careful to park it away from other bikes, I never really thought it could … what do you call baby bicycles?” …
=============================
“See what I mean, dude?”
“Hoooo-ee. It ain’t good, dude. How long is this Quilly gonna be in tha desert?”
“Awhile, dude. A long while.”
“I dunno, man, I just dunno.”
“Dude! Ya gotta be able ta say ‘no’ if’n it ain’t …”
“Dude?”
“Yeah?”
“Shaddap.”
You guys are funny! The flies on the walls at your place must laugh a lot.
Nathalie — all flies get swatted.