FRIDAY AFTERNOON
VALENTINO’S PIZZA, QUEENS
CONVERSATION WITH BOBBY
Bobby: “What the hell do you talk about for three hours at a time?”
Neil: “We’re in a long distance relationship. All we have at our disposal is chatting and texting. We’re on the phone every day.”
Bobby: “But three hours a day?!
Neil: “We talk about everything. Our lives, movies, online stuff.
Bobby: “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that imaginary online world you’re in where you have 10,000 friends who don’t know that you really live with your mother.”
Neil: “It’s not all imaginary.”
Bobby: “Let me ask you something. Did you really share a room with two hot chicks at that blogging conference, like in Three’s Company?”
Neil: “Yes. It was exactly like Three’s Company.”
Bobby: “You know, in the real life “Three’s Company,” I bet Jack was banging both of them.”
Neil: “Yeah, probably.”
Bobby: “They just never showed you that on TV because HBO wasn’t invented yet.”
Neil: “Note to self. Pitch “Three’s Company – the Real Story” to HBO.”
Bobby: “So, isn’t your girlfriend — all the way in New Zealand — worried about you sharing a hotel room with two mom-blogging hotties?”
Neil: “Nah. She isn’t like that. She’s pretty sure of herself.”
Bobby: “Good. You don’t need another needy woman in your life.”
Neil: “Well, there is ONE woman who I have to be careful about when I mention her. Some blogger in Massachusetts. Marcia Jenturn.”
Bobby: “Why? You banging her?”
Neil: “No, no. It’s just that I love her writing so much that I’m always talking about her.”
Bobby: “What does she write about? Her sex life?”
Neil: “No, mostly about her feeling depressed.”
Bobby: “She sounds a lot of fun.”
Neil: “Oh, but she writes so beautifully —
Bobby: “It sounds like you have a crush on her. Like you did with yearbook editor in high school.”
Neil: “Judy Weiss. Uh, OK. Maybe a little.”
++++
FRIDAY NIGHT
BEDROOM
TWO HOURS INTO A PHONE CALL WITH NEW ZEALAND
Her: “So, anything else new online? Haven’t had much of a chance today.”
Neil: “Oh, you have to read this incredible new post by… uh…uh…”
Her: “Go ahead. You can say her name.”
Neil: “Marcia Jenturn.”
Her: “Yeah, yeah. Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. What did she write about now?”
Neil: “She wrote a beautiful poem about a bird. It was like she WAS the bird.”
Her: “Look, she’s single. Why don’t you ask her out already? You clearly like her.
Neil: “I like her writing.”
Her: “I love you, Neil. But this is never going to work out with us living so far away. I give you my permission to ask her out on a date.”
Neil: “I don’t want to date her.”
Her: “Well, she lives closer to you than I do.”
Neil: “Stop it. You’re being silly. I don’t want to date her. She’s not my type. She’s way more talented than I am. It would make me uncomfortable.”
Her: “Wait a minute. Are you saying you the only woman who IS your type is a woman who is LESS talented than you?”
Neil: “No, of COURSE NOT. I mean, I like you. You are very talented. Super Talented.”
Her: “Super Talented in what?”
Neil: “Well, you are very sexy.”
Her: “I am super talented being sexy?”
Neil: Yes!
Her: What a waste. If I knew that was my main talent, I would have gotten a degree in pole dancing, not English Literature?”
Neil: “No, no. You’re also very smart. And kind. Super kind.”
Her: “And what about MY writing?”
Neil: “Well, you are so busy lately, with school and your son. So you don’t get a chance to write much anymore.”
Her: “What about when I do write on my blog? You’re a writer. You know good writing. Is my writing ever as good as Marcia Jenturn’s?”
Neil: “You know, I don’t want to change the subject, but Marcia Jenturn is our biggest fan. She is always telling me on IM that I should stop being a wimp and move to New Zealand. To “follow my heart,” as she said so poetically. She is so wise.”
Her: “You IM Marcia Jenturn — about us?”
Neil: “She understands LOVE so well. You know, she’s a poet.”
Her: “I see. Can I expect you to soon show up at her house to take Instagram photos of her.”
Neil: “Well, actually, in two weeks, we might go on a Instawalk together. Have you seen her photography? Marcia’s has such an eye for bold colors and light!”
Her: “MARCIA, MARCIA, MARCIA! Why do you want to even be with me?”
Neil: “Because I love you! There is no one else like you in this world!”
Her: “But look at Marcia. She is amazing in everything. You say so herself.”
Neil: “Wait, are you jealous of her? Is that what I’m beginning to hear.”
Her: “Yes, maybe a little.”
Neil: “There’s no reason to be jealous of her. She means nothing to me compared to you. In fact, we OWE her for much of our success.”
Her: “We do?”
Neil: “Yes. If it wasn’t for her, I would have never done that “thing” for you when I was in New Zealand.”
Her: “Huh? What does she have to do with you doing that “thing?”
Neil: “Well, earlier that day, I emailed her and she told me that I definitely should try it out if I wanted to impress you.”
Her: “You emailed Marcia Jenturn for sex advice while you were here?”
Neil: “She’s a poet! She understands this stuff!”
++++
MONDAY AFTERNOON
VALENTINO’S PIZZA, QUEENS
CONVERSATION WITH BOBBY
Bobby: “I can’t believe you didn’t speak to New Zealand all weekend? Did you get into a fight?”
Neil: “No. No. Nothing like that. She was just busy.”
Bobby: “Oh yeah? What was she doing? Playing hard to get?”
Neil: “Nah, she was just online all weekend with… Marcia Jenturn?”
Bobby: “Uh-oh!”
Neil: “No, it’s actually quite funny. It seems that after all that, they found out that they attended the same college together back in the 1980s, so they contacted each other, and spent all night chatting online. Now, they’re best buddies.”
Bobby: “Holy shit! You realize that if they become friends, they’re going to talk about everything. And I mean everything.”
Neil: “They are?”
Bobby: “Women, Neil. Yes.”
Neil: “Shit.”
Bobby: “It’s over, Neil. Your little online literary crush with Marcia Jenturn is dead.”
Neil: “Sigh. I know. I wonder if Judy Weiss is on Facebook.”
