I got given the gift of seeing a
performance today that was so real and believable that it was almost like the
performer was really living this nightmare. I think what made it stand out for
me was that it was actually real, and
it wasn't a performance at all. It was a woman who it seems had just been fired
from the department store I happened to be in and was not taking it very well.
I felt quite sad for her really. At least as sad as you can be for someone who
is yelling ‘you fucking cunts’ in a very public space.
But what was really sad is this – it
occurred to me that I have never been fired, and I am self-employed now, so I
will probably never be fired. This means that I will never get my own moment to
perform an eloquent exit soliloquy with true blood boiling rage sourced from
the well of genuine unhappiness at being told that I am no longer worth paying
a few bucks to show up somewhere regularly anymore. That sucks.
Although I could do it right here, just
to get it out of my system, right? Yay.
‘Uh hmmm’.
‘Cough’.
‘Cough’.
‘Hchhmmm’.
‘You’re firing me?’…. ‘You fucking
cunts!’
Boom!!! That felt awesome!
Wait, wait. I think I can do better.
‘Hchhhhmmmm’.
‘You’re firing me?’… ‘Um, why? Is this
because I wrote graffiti in the bathroom accusing your wife of being a shaved
monkey that you clearly have gotten lazy about shaving? Is it? Is it because
for a whole year everyday I put a bug in your sandwich and most of the time you
didn’t notice until you had half a bug in your mouth, and then when you started
to notice I started to grind up bug parts so small they looked like pepper, and
then sent you that anonymous email stating that pepper was great for your
prostate health, and then that second email stating that I had heard you peeing
a few times and your flow sounds very much like the flow of a man with an
aggravated prostate? Is it? Is this because I stopped cleaning the bathrooms
like my job requires and instead hired a small Cambodian lady to do it, and
when she came to me saying that she wasn’t getting paid I said that you were
stealing her pay and using it to fund an anti-Cambodian hate campaign that was
starting to inspire a whole new wave of neo-Nazism? Is it? Is it because of the
three weeks I didn’t come to work and instead sent in a clone I made of myself,
but hadn’t bothered to notice that it only spoke Icelandic, and then when you
busted me on it I said that I had a proud Icelandic heritage and that if you
mentioned it again I would get the Iceland Mafia to give you an ‘Icelandic
handshake’ which I didn’t say what was, only that if you got one it would be
“the last ‘hand’ you’d ever shake” then told you Bjork was actually considered
the sanest person in Iceland? Is it? Oh oh oh, it’s cause of “cutbacks” is it?
Well, in that case… You fucking cunts’.
