http://smartasspress.com/(from the
Breakfast in Barcelona link)
(To start in the middle)
5 Playing with the knife-rest
You know Bob, on second thought, maybe you should just stick to small talk... it works from time to time... true enough, it does lack a certain... a certain punch.
You could talk to her about the weather...
She'd nod, and polish off her latte and be gone from you life forever, sure... but she might smile a little.
Ok, that's no good.
No, Bob... we both know the answer, or at least that, if there is one, we'll find it here in this drink...
Ok, I think I have an idea. The service here in Barcelona is snail speedy... gives a man a chance to think... where the hell's my octopus?... It gives a man a chance to sweat too, but I'll get used to that again soon enough. I wasn't in Amsterdam that long.
Ok, let's think this over now. How is she gonna react? There're several options, I suppose, there's the 'ohh it must've been terrible...' reaction... then there's the patronizing nod to keep me at arm's length, the 'I don't want to get too close to a man who's been sleeping out of doors reaction'... Not altogether not-understandable come to think of it...
Then there's the possibility that she's had to sleep on a bench before, that she can relate...
Who'm I trying to kid?...
Ok, here's how to play it. "It really wasn't so bad... I mean, yeah, sure, Dude at the train station kicked me out, and I had to stagger exhaustedly off to the park bench... but as it turned out there were those two other guy's sleeping on the next park bench... I saw them during the night, on the way past them, and they looked like fellow travellers rather than tramps. I know tramps, we got plenty of them in... uhh, Barstow. There's ungroomed, and then there's 'I pissed myself and there's nothing for me to do about it but keep wearing these same clothes' transience. These guys were just guys who'd been on the road for a while. They looked alright.
"It must've been terrible' I don't know what I would've done if it'd been me..." I could hear her saying. I could see a respect in her eyes for my strength of character. She could respect me for having been through that ordeal, and especially for maintaining my head and my sense of humor in the face of it. 'Wow, that takes a real man...' she would think.
Now this is important Bob, you have to press on at this point, keep the story moving past your sorrows... press on to the good points, or she'll just think you're some sort of downer... a pain in the ass who's just gonna bring her down. This is a squalid thriller to excite her and get you into her pants, not some sort of slave narrative sob story to gain understanding or sympathy or any of that bullshit.
It's really a great novel, as long as one is a fan of cynical assholes... lovable cynical assholes, that is. ;)