Lessons I Teach Myself
Lessons I Teach Myself
HOPE: (to the audience) He may not be a murderous serial killer. And he doesn't seem to have even a mild dose of psychopathic tendencies... but he's a player all right. And he's definitely playing games with me.
MICKEY: Look. What we got here... this.... chemistry. I don't wanna mess this up. I wanna get to know you better. Like, this is gonna sound crazy, but I think God sent you over to me to show me he loves me.
Hope breaks into laughter.
HOPE: No, it's.... it's okay. I just, um. Is that a line you use often?
HOPE: The whole 'God sent you over to me....' Like, d'you say that to all the girls?
MICKEY: All the girls that take out the fire in my car but light up the fire in my heart?
HOPE: (bursts out laughing) Ha! You see, that! I mean, that's too much man. Like what happened, did you attend some workshop on how to be a MAN, you know, some dude who thinks he's all that teaching you how to pick up girls?
HOPE: How many girls have you tried that with, seriously!? Because it DOESN'T work.
MICKEY: You're the only one. I'm sorry if it wasn't... to your liking.
HOPE: Shit. Okay. Didn't mean to laugh, it's just...
MICKEY: ...Funny. I understand.
I'll just go fix your car and get you on the road.
Mickey goes towards the hood of the truck and starts working at it.
HOPE: Shit. I'm sorry, okay!? I... don't know why I laughed at you. I mean, I didn't laugh at you. Or with you. Just... I laugh sometimes when I'm nervous.
HOPE: Yeah, and when God is mentioned. I'm not really... I don't think I believe in God.
MICKEY: You don't think.
HOPE: I mean, I DIDN'T. Until I had that mystical experience with the fire and now I'm just, I'm fucking confused, okay?! And it's hot! And you're hot! And I'm hungry and guess I'm getting hangry and antsy and nervous about this whole thing, okay?
MICKEY: I'm hot?
HOPE: I should probably do some more yoga. That'll clear my head.
MICKEY: I'm hot.
HOPE: I'll just put my mat right here. Facing the sun. Do some sun salutations...
MICKEY: HOW hot?
HOPE: Ninety nine percent.
MICKEY: I like you too.
HOPE: No games?
To be continued...
Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog that may, or may not be, of any significance to anyone other than herself. If you found her lil' life lessons, stories, poems and blurbs meaningful to you, well that's f**ing amazing! Comment and share so she can pat herself in the back - she doesn't do that nearly enough. Cheers.