Story 604: What Really Goes On At The Back Of An Orchestra

           (In a large concert hall, orchestra members take their positions at music stands stationed throughout a stage behind closed curtains, as the audience members file in to take their seats on the other side)

Percussionist 1: (Rushes in from stage right, clutching sheet music tightly and squeezing around timpani, xylophones, bass drums, tubular bells, snare drums, and a table full of tambourines and other handheld instruments) Excuse me – pardon me – excuse me – (Almost knocks a triangle off the table) so sorry – (Stops on seeing a group of three musicians, seated in a circle on the floor between a set of large cymbals and a gong, playing cards; all three had stopped and have been staring at Percussionist 1) Hello.

Percussionist 2: (Wearing a green visor) Hi.  You the replacement percussionist for tonight?

Percussionist 1: Oh yes, I was called in just this afternoon – (Steps forward and sticks out a hand for Percussionist 2 to shake, then quickly snatches it back when no reciprocating hand appears) I was told there was a last-minute call-out, and could I fill in at the concert tonight, so of course I immediately cancelled the wisdom tooth removal I was supposed to have done late today and came right over!

Percussionist 2: Hm, yeah, appreciate it.  You play?

Percussionist 1: Oh, um, yes, pretty much everything here – (Wave arms to encompass the array of instruments at the back of the orchestra) except not so much those – (Points to the tubular bells) but I can figure them out if –

Percussionist 2: I meant poker.  (Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 hold up their cards to demonstrate)

Percussionist 1: Oh!  No.  Sorry.

Percussionist 2: Then have a seat.  (Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 scooch along the floor to make a space in the circle) You’d better learn fast, else this’ll be a long night.

Percussionist 1: (Hesitatingly walks over, sets down the sheet music, and sits in the new space)) Ohhhh-kaaaay, but shouldn’t I really be taking this time to practice the music for tonight?

(Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 stare blankly at Percussionist 1)

Percussionist 2: A little late for that now, isn’t it?

Percussionist 1: Well, yes, but I was called in last-minute –

Percussionist 2: So you said.

Percussionist 3: Wouldn’t want the audience coming in to hear a bunch of ruckus going on behind the curtains, would you?

Percussionist 4: I sure wouldn’t.

Percussionist 1: No, but I just got the music now and would have to go in cold, so to speak.

Percussionist 2: (Leans in toward Percussionist 1) This your first real professional orchestral performance?

Percussionist 1: (Laughs nervously) Is it that obvious?

Percussionists 2, 3, and 4: Yes.

Percussionist 1: Oh.  Well, I’ve played in every school concert ever, and while I wasn’t the first – or second – or third choice for this, my instructor felt I’ve had enough experience to step in as a back-up for tonight.

Percussionist 3: You’re a student?!

Percussionist 1: …Wassss that not mentioned earlier?

Percussionist 4: And not even top of your class?

Percussionist 1: (Looks down, embarrassed) No.  Just the only one available on such short notice.

(Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 look at each other, then back at Percussionist 1)

Percussionist 2: I think you’ll do nicely. 

Percussionist 1: (Looks up suddenly) Huh?

Percussionist 3: All you need to do is hit things back here, and everyone out there loves it.

Percussionist 4: And if you mess up, they’ll never know, and what’s anybody gonna do about it, huh?

Percussionists 2, 3, and 4: NOTHIN’!  (They high five each other)

Percussionist 1: (Deals in Percussionist 1) Now, pay attention to the cards and forget the sheet music…. 

TWENTY MINUTES LATER 

(Conductor emerges from backstage)

Conductor: (To the chatting orchestra members) At the ready, everyone!  We’re on in a minute!  (Exits to prepare for the official entrance)

(The orchestra members straighten up in their positions and focus on their instruments and music as the audience outside applauds the entrance of the evening’s host)

Percussionist 2: (Takes the cards from the others as all four stand; whispering) Whelp, that’s our cue.

Percussionist 1: (Whispering while scrambling to stand) What, this is it?!  I’m nowhere near ready!

Percussionist 3: (Whispering) Kid, no one ever is.  (Lightly slaps Percussionist 1 on the shoulder and takes position at the multiple xylophones)

Percussionist 2: (Whispering to Percussionist 1 while moving the latter to the gong) For this piece, just hit the gong when the conductor points to you.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) That’s it?!

Percussionist 2: (Whispering while taking position near all the drums) Oh yeah, it’s only about two or three times, no sweat.

(A muffled voice is heard from the other side of the curtains, introducing the orchestra and program for the night)

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) Well which is it, two or three?!

Percussionist 2: (Whispering while taking off the visor and tossing it away somewhere) I dunno, check the sheet music.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering while head zips from side-to-side looking all around the floor) Where did it go?!

Percussionist 4: (Whispers to Percussionist 1 from the tubular bells) Don’t even worry about it – it’s not as if the conductor’s gonna stop the entire performance cold and yell at you for missing your cue or anything.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) Oh no?!  I’ve seen it happen!

Percussionist 4: (Whispering) Oh wow, that must’ve been really awkward.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) That’s putting it mildly!

Percussionist 2: (Casually leaning on the timpani while handing over the found sheet music and whispering to Percussionist 1) Relax, you’ve got this – just don’t mess up and you’ll be fine.

Percussionist 1: [Strangled cry]

Percussionist 2: (Whispering) Or mess up – no one really cares that much.

Percussionist 1: [Gulps]

Euphonium Player: (Seated in front of the percussion section, turns around and loudly whispers) Could you all knock it off!  Show’s gonna begin in about five seconds!

Percussionist 2: (Loudly whispering) Oh please, everyone out there is barely aware your instrument even exists.

Euphonium Player: (Loudly whispering) You’d all miss me if I was gone!  (Turns back around in a huff)

(Curtains are drawn back as the audience applauds again and Conductor enters from stage right, smiling and bowling, then takes place at the podium, signals for most of the orchestra members to tune up, then raises and lowers arms to begin the concert.  Several minutes into the first piece, a flask is unobtrusively passed from Percussionist 4 to Percussionist 2, who both temporarily hide behind the tubular bells to take a swig; Percussionist 2 then holds it below the audience’s sight line toward Percussionist 1, whose eyes widen in shock at Percussionist 2)

Percussionist 2: (Sets down the flask and signs below the sight line between drumbeats) M – I – L – K – S – H – A – K – E

Percussionist 1: (Signing below the sight line) G – E – R – M – S

Percussionist 2: (During a pause in beats) S – U – I – T – Y – O – U – R – S – E – L – F  (Picks up the flask again and gestures that Percussionist 1 should pass it to Percussionist 3; Percussionist  1 does so, holding the flask low with two fingers in distaste as Percussionist 3 snatches it between xylophone beats)

(Conductor points grandly to Percussionist 1, who mightily swings a mallet at the gong)

Percussionist 2: (Signing after the gong stops reverberating) G – O – O – D – J – O – B

Percussionist 1: (Whole body still shaking from the blow, gives a trembling, low thumbs-up) 

FORTY MINUTES LATER 

(Percussionist 1 now is stationed at the table with the smaller instruments, holding the triangle and beater and straining to read the sheet music as the entire orchestra plays in triple time, when suddenly there is a split-second lull)

Transistor Radio: (Plugged into Percussionist 2’s ear with the volume raised to maximum) Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded –

Percussionist 1: Huh?  (Looks toward Percussionist 2)

Percussionist 2: (Rapidly beating the snare drums, tosses off a quick) Ssh!  (in Percussionist 1’s direction)

Percussionist 1: (Flabbergasted, turns back to the sheet music; suddenly looks up in a panic and sees Conductor impatiently signaling that the triangle should be hit) Whoops.  (Excessively triangles, more than there were notes, but the rest of the orchestra continues without missing a beat)

Percussionist 2: (Whispering to Percussionist 1 as Percussionist 3 crashes all the cymbals) Nice recovery, but don’t overdo it.

Percussionist 1: (Whispering back) It was you – !

Transistor Radio: Out!  And the game is over!

Percussionist 2: (Drowned out by angrily drumming) Un – freaking – believable!

Percussionist 1: [Sigh] (Sees Conductor signaling again and this time restrainedly triangles; once that is done, looks over and sees Percussionist 4 holding out a plate with a cake slice in one hand while striking the tubular bells with the other; Percussionist 1 slightly shakes head at Percussionist 4, who shrugs and slightly ducks down to take a bite) [Heavier Sigh] 

GRAND FINALE 

(Percussionists 1, 2, 3, and 4 rush from one instrument to the next to hit all of them at the proper times; at one point, Percussionist 1 and Percussionist 3 collide but the latter smoothly moves the former aside and both continue on their way; the orchestra concludes the piece with a cacophonous flourish, and the audience gives a standing ovation.  Conductor bows, gestures for the orchestra members to bow as well, and then exits stage right with no further interaction with anyone as the curtains close)

Percussionist 1: (Collapses onto the floor, still holding a mallet, as the rest of the orchestra members pack up and leave; to Percussionists 2, 3, and 4) I have never felt so stressed in all my life.

Percussionist 2: (Standing over Percussionist 1 with Percussionist 3 and Percussionist 4; all three are snacking on potato chips) You did great, kid – we’ll make a percussionist out of you yet.  (Turns briefly towards a DING! from nearby)  Sounds like the chocolate’s done – wanna stick around for fondue?

Percussionist 1: …Yeah, all right.

Story 603: Choose Whodunit

            (In a small village, the six sole occupants gather in the mini-square)

Leader: All right everyone, here’s the deal: you all had a hard day’s work out in the fields and will be going to your wee but cozy shacks for a well-earned good night’s sleep, but one of you – is actually – a – “murderer”!

(Gasps all around)

Villager 1: Impossible!

Villager 2: Not one of us, we all know each other!

Villager 3: (Raises a hand; to Leader) Is it you?

Leader: No it isn’t me, I’m the one running the ga – never mind: whoever it is knows who it is, OK?!

Villager 3: No, but since I’m clearly outvoted here….

Leader: Good-good; now, tonight: one of you – will – be – “murdered”!

(Gasps all around again)

Villager 4: What if we “murder” the “murderer” first?

Leader: It doesn’t work like that – it happens while you’re asleep.

Villager 4: What if we don’t sleep, then?

Leader: You have to sleep, it’s in the rules – I mean, you had a hard day’s work out in the fields so you’re all sleeping through the night, OK?!

Villager 4: Except for one of us who’ll be horribly “murdering” another one of us, that is.

Leader: Yes, well, that goes without saying.  However, there is a chance… to be saved.

Villager 5: Oh thank goodness; I thought all hope was lost.

Leader: For one of you – is – a – “healer”.

Villager 1: Impossible!

Leader: I’m sorry, what?

Villager 1: How can any of us be a “healer” in this village if we’re working out in the fields all day long?  There’d be no free time to learn herbology or surgery!

Leader: …Well, this is a very talented person, what can I tell you; now, the “healer” can choose to save a fellow villager or may choose to save themselves, either way possibly saving the selected “victim”.

Villager 1: OK, so what’s the method of “murder”, then?

Leader: DEATH!  Mwahahaha!

Villager 2: You’re having way too much fun with this.

Leader: Sorry.

Villager 1: So, is it poison or stabbing?

Leader: What difference does it make?!

Villager 1: A world of difference: if I’m the “victim” and also the “healer”, then if it’s poison I can just take an antidote, but if it’s stabbing or some other traumatic wound then how am I supposed to perform lifesaving surgery on myself?

Leader: It’s magic, OK?!  It’s all magic!

Villager 1: Then maybe say the person’s a “witch” or a “sorcerer” rather than a “healer” –

Leader: It doesn’t matter, the person’s just a “healer” who instantly “heals”, all right?!

Villager 3: (Raises a hand; to Leader) If we “heal” ourselves but we were never the “victim”, does that create a paradox and we implode instead?

Leader: No!  Nothing happens, you just wake up in the morning as usual!  Why is everyone making this more complicated than it is?!

Villager 3: Just checking, yeesh.

Leader: The rules – I mean, the situation is exactly as I told you, stop overthinking everything, now go to sleep so one of you can be “offed” in the night, understand?!

Villager 4: Who can sleep at this point?!

Villager 5: And what kind of village did we all choose to live in?!

Leader: For the love of – EVERYONE GO TO SLEEP, NOW!

(Villagers 1-5 go to each of their huts, grumbling)

Villager 5: (Turns to Leader while standing in the doorway) Well, you’re certainly not getting a portion of this year’s harvest after all this.  (Slams the door on the way in)

Leader: …What?

(Later that night)

Leader: IT – IS – TIME!

Villagers 1-5: (In their huts) Ooooh!

Leader: Now, this next part as quietly as possible.  “Murderer”: WAKE UP!

Villager 5: (Whispering) But we’re all already awake!

Villager 4: Ssh!

(Villager 2 emerges quietly from the hut, wearing a wicked smile)

Leader: OK, “Murderer”: CHOOSE YOUR VICTIM!  (Villager 2 starts creepily tiptoeing toward Villager 1’s hut) No-no, just point – it’s all magic, remember.  (Villager 2 creepily points to Villager 1’s hut) OK, “Murderer”: NOW, GO BACK TO SLEEP!  (Villager 2 collapses onto the ground) What the – go back to your hut and then go back to sleep!  (Villager 2 stands up and returns to the hut) Now, “Healer”: WAKE UP!  (Villager 1 emerges quietly from the hut) OK, “Healer”: CHOOSE WHO IS TO BE SAVED!  (Villager 1 points a wand at self and mouths “Alakazam!”) …Fine.  OK, “Healer”: NOW, GOT BACK TO SLEEP!  (Villager 1 dashes back into the hut) Wish I could sleep right now.

(The next morning)

Leader: OK, everyone: it was a long, hard night’s sleep, but now you’re all awake and gathered.  (Silence) I said, you’re all awake and gathered!  (Villagers 1-5 run out of their huts and gather in the mini-square)  And even though you all should have been out like an electric light that hasn’t been invented yet, in the literal dead of night, one of you tried to “off” your neighbor!

Villager 5: Oh no!  In our little village?!  Nowhere is safe!

Leader: BUT: the “healer” was able to save the “victim”, so everyone here is still alive… FOR NOW!  Mwahahaha – !

Villager 2: Seriously, take it down a notch.

Leader: Sorry.  So: let the accusations begin!  Who do each of you think is… THE “MURDERER”?!

(Villager 1 points to Villager 2, Villagers 2, 4, and 5 point to Villager 3, and Villager 3 points to Leader)

Leader: (To Villager 3) I already told you that it can’t be me!

Villager 3: Ah, that’s what you want us to think!

Leader: I’m not eligible to be the “murderer” since I oversee who’s doing what, so you have to pick someone else!

Villager 3: Oh, all right.  (Suddenly notices Villagers 2, 4, and 5’s pointing fingers) Hey, wait a minute, you all think it’s me?!  What for?!

Villager 2: I’m not buying the Village Idiot routine for a second.

Villager 3: But I am the Village Idiot for real!

Villager 4: A likely story!  Your disguise is ingenious!

Villager 5: Yeah, that’s what you want us to think, ha!

Villager 3: (Sputters) I – you – this – I have no words.

Leader: (To Villager 3) So, who do you accuse now?

Villager 3: Myself, apparently: the gaslighting campaign has succeeded.

Leader: Well, it’s a majority then, but not unanimous.  (To Villager 1) So, why are you pointing elsewhere?

Villager 2: (Suddenly notices Villager 1’s pointing finger and gasps in horror) How could you even suspect it was me?!  I AM YOUR SPOUSE!

Villager 1: Exactly.

Leader: (To Villager 1) Sure you don’t want to change your mind in light of public opinion?

Villager 1: (Still staring accusingly at Villager 2) Oh no, my mind’s staying right here.

Villager 2: (To Villager 1) I’ll remember this at dinner tonight.

Leader: All right, then!  The majority in this case is… not correct, and the “murderer” is still at large to strike once more!

Villager 5: (As Villagers 1, 2, 4, and 5 lower their pointing fingers) Ooh, I can’t take the suspense!

Villager 1: (Glaring at Villager 2) I can.

Villager 2: (Glaring back) Why you little –

Villager 3: (Oblivious to the other two) I can’t take the pubic shaming.

Leader: All right!  After a hard day’s work out in the fields –

Villager 4: Who can work at a time like this?!  Isn’t there an attempted “murder” we should be investigating?!

Villager 5: Yeah, I for one don’t want to be the next contestant on a re-enactment of And Then There Were None!

Leader: (Stares blankly at Villager 4 and Villager 5 for a few moments) …After another hard day’s work out in the fields, you all return to your wee but cozy shacks for a well-earned good night’s sleep.

Villager 5: (As Villagers 1-5 return to their huts) HA!

Villager 4: I’m barring the door and staying up all night with my scythe at the ready!

Villager 1: (While looking pointedly at Villager 2) Good idea.

Villager 2: [Grinds teeth at Villager 1]

Leader: OK, NIGHTY-NIGHT!

(Later that night)

Leader: IT – IS – TIME!  Now, this next part as quietly as possible.  “Murderer”: WAKE UP!  (Villager 2 and Villager 3 both emerge from their huts) Unbelievable.

Villager 2: (Staring at Villager 3) Huh?

Villager 3: What, didn’t you all vote for me to be It?

Leader: THAT’S NOT HOW THIS WORKS!

Villager 3: Yeesh, why is everyone always mad at me lately?  I didn’t even attempt a “murder” on anyone yet.

(Villagers 1, 4, and 5 emerge from their huts)

Villager 4: Did you get `em?!  Are we saved?!

Leader: (Sinks down to the ground, cradling head in hands and moaning) That’s not how this works….

Villager 2: (Pointing to Villager 3) This one got confused and ruined the whole thing!

Villager 4: (Gasps in horror; to Villager 2) So it was you, all along?!

Villager 1: I KNEW IT!

Villager 2: (To Villager 1) Calm down; you would’ve done the exact same thing in my position.

Villager 1: I would never!

Villager 2: Oh really?  Then how is it you chose to “heal” yourself rather than your own beloved life companion, hm?

Villager 1: Because I figured you were the “murderer” and that you’d targeted me!  And how’d you know I “healed” myself?!

Villager 2: Because you were still alive the next morning!

Villager 1: …Oh yeah, right.

Villager 2: Besides, it would’ve been an easy process of elimination anyway.  (Points to Villager 3) This one has no idea what’s going on – (Points to Villagers 4 and 5) and those two are too immersed in the experience to convincingly cover up a secret role if they had one.

Villager 4: Rude.

Villager 5: Yeah, “Murderer”!

Villager 2: I didn’t even “off” anyone!

Villager 5: Not for lack of trying!

Villager 1: I’ll say.

Villager 3: (Raises a hand) Are we going back to sleep for another round, then?

Leader: (Suddenly stands) No!  No, the game is over, you all ruined it!  The cards I gave you earlier clearly showed what your roles were, the rules were very simple, and my narration was clear and concise – it takes a special talent to spectacularly derail such a basic scenario, but you all managed to somehow, congratulations!

Villager 1 and Villager 2: AHEM!

Leader: Sorry: you were the perfect secret “Murderer” and “Healer”, Mom and Dad.

Villager 2: I should think so.

Villager 1: Same here, even though I really should keep my eye on you two from now on.

Story 602: Labor Day = End of Summer Fun

 SUNDAY, AUGUST 24

 (In a park, Friend 1 and Friend 2 walk along a very uneven moderate-level trail)

Friend 2: (Pointing to a branching trail) Hey, want to try that one out this time?

Friend 1: (Glances briefly at a trail map) Nah, it leads to the main road, and also’ll take forever to get back to the parking lot; neither scenario I want to deal with, ever.

Friend 2: Oh.  OK.

Friend 1: Feel free to do it without me, though.

Friend 2: (Mildly sarcastic) Maybe another time, thanks.

Friend 1: (Completely serious) But of course.

(They walk for a few minutes in silence)

Friend 2: I can’t believe next week’s September already.

Friend 1: (Through gritted teeth) Don’t remind me.

Friend 2: I can’t believe next Monday is Labor Day.

Friend 1: As.  I.  Said.

Friend 2: Do you have off this year?

Friend 1: (Unclenches teeth) Shockingly, yes.  I think my manager either feels sorry for me working almost every holiday for years and is finally trying to make up for it, or just forgot to put me on that day.

Friend 2: That’s great!  I’d say we should meet up, but I’ll be away with my family for a really-late summer vacation that weekend – do you have any plans?

Friend 1: Nope: I try to make as few of my fellow workers as possible work on Labor Day.

Friend 2: Aw, that’s sweet.

Friend 1: Patronizing bourgeoisie.

Friend 2: So, you just going to relax at home all day?

Friend 1: Probably, in-between mourning summer’s passing.  I’d invite you to the funeral, but it seems you’re already booked.

Friend 2: Summer’s still around for another month.

Friend 1: No, summer is over with Labor Day.  If you haven’t noticed, Back-To-School is everywhere!

Friend 2: We don’t go to school anymore.

Friend 1: And yet, the sadness and anxiety of leaving summer fun behind and facing almost 10 months of judgment for almost 20 years remains.  You don’t get over something like that.

Friend 2: Well, I sure did – present everyday work anxiety is enough for me to not revisit past ones.  Besides, I thought you liked fall, and apple picking, and Halloween –

Friend 1: (Stops and turns on Friend 2) Don’t say the “H” world before September, I won’t stand for it!

Friend 2: (Continues walking as Friend 1 follows again) Jeez.  That’s everywhere now too, in case you haven’t noticed.

Friend 1: I regretfully have.  And I do like all that stuff, in their proper place and not encroaching on my days of lemonade and flip-flops.

Friend 2: Well, we’ve still got a whole week of August left for all that.

Friend 1: (Stops walking again; Friend 2 also stops) Do we?  Let’s examine the evidence.  (Briefly spreads arms out wide to take in the sky) For instance: this light… is all wrong.

Friend 2: (Looks around) It’s afternoon.

Friend 1: It’s fall light.  The angle’s all wrong for a summer day, and lately sunset is way too early for my liking.

Friend 2: It’s not completely dark until 8:00.

Friend 1: I prefer 9.  And what about that sudden, creeping chill in the air, hm?  Hm??!!

Friend 2: (Starts walking again; Friend 1 also starts again) Whatever: go to a beach or a pool or lie in the shade doing nothing, just please have fun on your last summer day that you actually don’t have to work, all right?

Friend 1: No promises. 

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 1 

(On a beach, Friend 2 relaxes in a chair facing the waves and surrounded by other chairs, umbrellas, several family members playing in the sand, employees removing their companies’ chairs and umbrellas, lifeguards whistling and yelling at swimmers not to go near the rocks, and seagulls stealing junk food they really should not be eating, then takes out a cellphone and places a call)

Friend 1: (Answers while lying on a beach chair in the grass somewhere) I thought you were on a vacation getaway with the fam.

Friend 2: I am – figured while we’re at the beach one last time, I’d check in on how you’re doing on this glorious summer’s day.

Friend 1: Cute.  Well, you’ll be happy to know I sort-of took your advice and am currently lounging near the shore of a local pond, watching the ducks swimming nowhere fast, reading my book, sipping my lemonade, and otherwise doing absolutely nothing.

Friend 2: (Sniffs exaggeratedly) I’m so proud of you.

Friend 1: I’m also doing my utmost best not to remember that Labor Day is the absolute earliest it can ever be on September 1 this year – (Friend 2 ends the call; Friend 1 sets down the phone and sips some lemonade while watching the ducks swim by) You’re right: no point in both of us being bummed out.

Story 601: Vacation Is Priority

             (In a department store office, Manager is completing an interview with Applicant)

Manager: (Seated at a desk across from Applicant) So, I think that covers everything; you were our last eligible candidate for the position and the others were just awful, so the job’s yours if you want it.

Applicant: Really?  Wow, thanks!  I do, yes – want it, I mean.  Thank you!

Manager: You’re welcome.  Now, I’ll get all the paperwork sent over to you, but in the meantime, I almost forgot: do you have any questions for me?

Applicant: Yes, as a matter of fact; it’s always a touchy one, I’ve noticed.

Manager: Salary?  It’s hourly and abysmal, I’m afraid.

Applicant: (Chuckles and waves dismissively) No, that’s expected; what I want to know about is: (Becomes very serious) vacation.

Manager: What about it?

Applicant: Exactly: what about it?

Manager: You accumulate it over time; what else is there to know?

Applicant: I want precise details: the number of hours each calendar year; how regularly we are allowed to be out; are there certain dates that are completely blocked off; that sort of thing.

Manager: Well, you’ll get a certain number of hours off per hours worked; I’d have to look up what the rates are for your specific position, but do you really need to know now?  You haven’t even clocked in for a shift yet.

Applicant: I know, but my time off is precious to me and I plan my vacations years in advance.

Manager: “Years”?

Applicant: Yes: I had an unexpected job change this year so that throws off my schedule a bit, but I fully intend to take my Antarctica cruise as scheduled in November.

Manager: (Raises an eyebrow) That’s less than three months from now.

Applicant: I’m aware, yes.

Manager: And how long is this cruise to the South Pole going to take?

Applicant: Well, factoring in flights to and from, I’m blocking out two weeks.

Manager: Two weeks in a month that includes Thanksgiving?

Applicant: Oh, I should be back in plenty of time before then – who wants to deal with those crowds at the airport?

Manager: You do realize you work in retail where our busy season starts immediately after Halloween?

Applicant: I’m sure you’ll all be fine without me; and I believe I should have accumulated enough hours by then, provided I work seven days a week for the next few months.

Manager: We don’t pay overtime; and you’d run yourself ragged for months for a few weeks of rushing from airplanes to ships and freezing in an area where there’s practically nothing?

Applicant: I wouldn’t say “nothing”: there’s a surprising amount of wildlife in an area most people write off as a barren wasteland of snow.  I’m extremely looking forward to witnessing actual penguins in their actual habitat, as long as they’re not eaten by leopard seals right in front of my eyes – I don’t think I’d ever get over it.

Manager: (Sighs and starts typing notes into a computer) Fine, since the trip’s already booked we’ll work something out; you’ll probably have to work a long stretch without any vacation days after that to make up for it, though.

Applicant: That’s all right, as long as I can take my next vacation in March, we’re all good.

Manager: (Stops typing to stare at Applicant) What’s in March?

Applicant: Oh, I randomly got in the habit a few years ago where I celebrate the vernal equinox by hiking a chunk of the Appalachian Trail; I know, a lot of people do it around then too, but it’s just so rejuvenating, a great way to welcome spring.  Shouldn’t take me more than a month.

Manager: (Blinks slowly at Applicant) You can take three days.

Applicant: Oh.  But I won’t get very far; probably barely make it out of Georgia before I have to head back.

Manager: (Blinks slowly again) Three days.

Applicant: Oh.  OK.  I’ll cut it short this time, I guess.

Manager: Please do.  (Starts typing again)

Applicant: Actually, my ultimate goal is to hike the entire trail, but that takes about five to seven months so I suppose that’ll have to wait until retirement, heh-heh-heh.

Manager: (Mutters while typing) What retirement.

Applicant: What?

Manager: (Stops typing and looks up) What?

Applicant: Well, anyway, after that I plan to spend the spring and summer tubing across all the major rivers in the country – probably need a bunch of (Does air quotes) “three-day weekends” tacked onto whichever days I’m scheduled off each week here –

Manager: (Turns away from the computer to lean on the desk, facing Applicant) Listen, you really should prioritize actually working here first before you start planning extra time off, hm?  You’ll be in a provisional period in the beginning, so you’ll have to demonstrate that you can do the job before you even start earning the extra hours off here.

Applicant: Oh yeah, no sweat: I just want to make sure that it’s guaranteed I can get away from it all at regular intervals.  If not, that’s a dealbreaker, I’m afraid.

Manager: Strange: those who apply to work here usually are more concerned with – oh, I don’t know – a living wage, health insurance, things like that.

Applicant: (Thinks on this for a moment) I suppose most people are fixated on such minutiae, yes.  Personally, all I need to know is how soon and how often I get my allotted “me time”.

Manager: Life isn’t all about vacation, you know.

Applicant: More’s the pity.

Story 600: Where Does Time Go?

            (On a sunny summer afternoon, Friend 1 and Friend 2 lounge in patio chairs in Friend 2’s backyard, facing the lawn and staring through sunglasses at nothing in particular)

Friend 1: (To Friend 2 as both still face forward) You know, sometimes I miss having a backyard.

Friend 2: Yeah?

Friend 1: I mean, I grew up with one at my parents’ house, and I love my apartment now, but sometimes I miss having a bit of outdoor space to do nothing in, without having to walk or drive somewhere else and share it with strangers.  I never realized at the time what it luxury it was; it was always just… there.

Friend 2: Yeah…. Can be a pain in the neck to mow, though.

Friend 1: Oh, definitely – you can keep it.  (A cell phone alert goes off; Friend 1 takes the phone out of a pants pocket and navigates to the alert)

Friend 2: Everything OK?

Friend 1: (Still tapping buttons) Oh yeah, it’s just one of those “On this day, such-and-such years ago” – wonder what it is this time?

Friend 2: Eh, probably a photo you’ll immediately want to delete.

Friend 1: No such photo exists: I live a blameless online life.  (Stares at the screen for a few moments) Hmmmmmm….

Friend 2: So, what is it?

Friend 1: (With brows furrowed in puzzlement) A picture from senior year in high school, twentyyyyyyy… (Lifts up sunglasses briefly to squint at the screen) five years ago.

Friend 2: Heh-heh, yeah, I suppose it would be that long ago.  Mildly depressing, but I can’t really bring myself to care right now.  (Sips some lemonade)

Friend 1: (Still looking confused, holds the phone up to Friend 2) Do you remember this?

Friend 2: (Also briefly lifts up sunglasses to squint at the screen) I remember some of the people in it; is that a diner?  We always went to one after games and rehearsals and whatever.

Friend 1: (Brings the phone back to stare at the photo again) I didn’t always go – I only went a few times.

Friend 2: Oh.  Sorry.  You were always around back then so I figured you were always at those things too, but now I remember you weren’t.  Different crowds, I guess.

Friend 1: It’s OK, it’s just… why don’t I remember this?

Friend 2: I dunno – old age?

Friend 1: But any other photo, I remember something about what was happening – I don’t remember this at all.  It’s almost like I’m looking at a stranger.

Friend 2: Sure it’s you, then?  Sometimes these sites tag the wrong people and start up a whole world of trouble.

Friend 1: Oh no, it’s me all right, and those’re people I hung around with, and you’re there too, but the actual event is blank.

Friend 2: Well, get used to it: I’m sure it’ll happen more and more often as we travel onward through the fourth dimension that is time, losing all ou irreplaceable brain cells on the way.  Can’t be helped.

Friend 1: (Turns off the phone’s display, slips the phone back into the pocket, and leans back in the chair) I guess.  I would say I’m too young for that to happen yet, but that’s a lie.  In less than 10 years, we’ll be half a century old, can you believe it?

Friend 2: (Mildly, with a smile) Hush your mouth.

Friend 1: Half a century.  I might’ve lived more than half my life already, and I won’t even know for certain until right before it’s over.  Every second that goes by, we’re inching ever closer to our doom.

Friend 2: (Contentedly leaning back in the chair) Ahhhh, drama.

Friend 1: And it’s not only me, or you, or everyone else: our entire planet has an expiration date, did you know that?

Friend 2: More so every day.

Friend 1: And I’m not even talking about end-times weather and all that; I’m talking about our own Sun, our one and only star and source of our very existence, swallowing us up as it turns into a red giant and then one moment it, too, is no more.

Friend 2: Thankfully, we’ll be long gone before that even begins to happen.

Friend 1: Sure, we think everything out there’ll last forever, but nothing does.  Nothing.  One by one, everything ends, even the longest-existing piece of matter out there, from the beginning of the Big Bang or whatever or whoever it was started this whole mess.  One far off, distant increment of time, it will all cease to be, breaking the First Law of Thermodynamics with impunity and no one around anymore to notice; even time will run down and sputter off into the nothing from which it came.

Friend 2: I think that’s called a paradox.

Friend 1: Not if time is just another thing in the universe that has a beginning and an inevitable, painful end.

Friend 2: But I thought time was more our perception of existence rather than a thing in and of itself?

Friend 1: Ha!  That’s what they want you to think.

Friend 2: “They?”

Friend 1: Why else would the past 25 years have gone by with us barely noticing, but the first 10 years of our lives were as slow as anything and were so much better?

Friend 2: I think you’re missing a few years in there.

Friend 1: No one care about those.  No, time is a hooligan: a sick, twisted scoundrel who plays with our hearts and fools around with our minds before greedily consuming them both.

Friend 2: (Sighs) Oh dear.

Friend 1: (Gestures at the early evening sky) I mean, take this for example.

Friend 2: (Stares at the sky for several moments) Mostly sunny, partly cloudy?

Friend 1: Well, that, but no: we’ve been sitting out here all afternoon, enjoying the summer day, but already evening is coming on, a minute earlier every rotation, and you can say it’s the Earth tilting on its axis away from the Sun for us here in the Up Over, while those lucky Down Under get an extra minute of daylight every winter day in exchange, but it’s really time, reminding us that the end of the year is nigh, and growth and light and life will soon be gone until the Earth remembers to tilt back again, ages from now.

Friend 2: It’s only the beginning of August.

Friend 1: And yet, night falls half an hour earlier than it did in June.  The cycle continues, bringing us that much closer to our own, customized, THE END.

Friend 2: So: we have the luxury of sitting in private green space, enjoying the fresh air, enjoying the summer day – (Pointedly) enjoying each other’s company – and ignoring the ticking clock that’s been with us since birth and will be with us until… whenever.

Friend 1: (Sips some lemonade) I reckon that’s one way to look at it.

Friend 2: That’s the only way to look at it – your way drives us collectively bonkers.

Friend 1: …Yeah, I guess that’s not really time well spent.

Friend 2: (Turns to Friend 1) You know, you’re remarkably calm about one of your many existential crises, for a change.

Friend 1: (Turns to Friend 2) Well, sometimes, I exhaust even myself.

Story 599: The Audience Really Does Make the Show

            (In the backstage area of a makeshift wrestling arena, professional wrestlers mill about warming up and getting into character; on the other side of the curtains, audience members take their seats in the folding chairs around the center ring)

Wrestler 1: (Doing push-ups against a wall while Wrestler 2 is doing lunges) Wait, so am I now kicking you in the stomach or bashing you in the head with a chair after the first pin?

Wrestler 2: Kick to stomach; I roll out of the ring, then I bash you with the chair when you come after me.

Wrestler 1: Got it.  Is it a bad sign I’m starting to mix up choreography from one match to another?

Wrestler 2: I’ll try to cover for you if it happens, but I wouldn’t let anyone else hear you say that.

Wrestler 1: Thanks.  I don’t think the audience really cares as long as we’re continually beating each other up, am-I-right?

Wrestler 2: (Switches to squats) To a point, but if you go for a clothesline at the same time I go for a backbreaker, I think we’re all gonna have a problem.

Wrestler 1: Heh-heh, yeah.

(Announcer rushes in, looking stressed)

Announcer: (Waves Wrestlers and Referee in closer) Everyone, huddle up please, I’ve got some news.

Wrestler 3: (As everyone gathers around) What, are we all fired?!

Announcer: No!  Why would you even think – ?  Never mind: I just found out that there’s been a slight mix-up in venues, so our audience for today’s show is not exactly our… regulars.

Referee: How do you mean?

Announcer: Well... I was told that this space was advertising Romeo and Juliet for today.

(The others howl with laughter, then trickle off)

Wrestler 4: Wait, you’re serious?!

Announcer: `Fraid so.

Referee: So why don’t we just pack up and move to the right venue now?

Announcer: It’s too late for us to move all our stuff out and the other show to move all their stuff in – everyone literally just found out the mistake when the audience here showed their tickets about 10 minutes ago.

Wrestler 5: And no one walked out?!

Announcer: Some did, but the majority didn’t want to drive another hour in city traffic to get to the right show, so they figured might as well stay with full refunds.

Wrestler 5: (Nods) Ah, lazy: I get it.

Announcer: (Briskly rubs hands together) So!  Same show as usual, just don’t expect as much… interaction as you normally get, `K?

Wrestler 6: (Raises hand) Ooh!  Can I finally do my Hamlet monologue during my entrance, pleeeeeeease?!

Announcer: Ergh, fine, do a few lines, but don’t be disappointed if you just remind them what they’re missing out on.

Wrestler 6: (Fist pumps) Yes!  Drama degree finally paying off!

Announcer: All right, everyone, let’s give `em a show!

Wrestlers and Referee: YEAH!

Usher: (Peaks head through the curtains separating the backstage from the frontstage) Hi, sorry to interrupt, but you could you all keep it down a little back here, please?  You’re making the crowd out there nervous.

Announcer, Wrestlers, and Referee: (In a whisper) SORRY!

(In the arena, the business-casual dressed audience members sit quietly in the first two rows of folding chairs on all four sides surrounding the ring.  The lights dim, then blaze in multicolor frenetic motion on the entrance ramp leading to the ring; loud music blares out from the speakers as Announcer emerges from behind the curtains to polite applause; Referee slips through the curtains shortly afterward and unobtrusively enters the ring)

Announcer: (Microphone causes voice to echo loudly through the mostly-empty arena) LAAAAADIES AAAAAAND GEEEEENTLEMEN!  Have we got a show for you today!  (Two audience members briefly clap)  And now, our first contestant in our extravaganza of destruction!  Weighing 155 lbs and fresh out of anger management therapy, please welcome, DOOM-MAKER!  (Polite applause from the audience members)

Wrestler 1: (Flings aside the curtains and grabs the microphone from Announcer to address the audience) That’s right: I am your doom, and I am here to rough!  Stuff!  Up!  (Staggered applause from the audience members) I don’t need your pity cheers!  I don’t need any of you, AHAHAHAHAHA!!!  (Several audience members start to stand up to leave) No, I’m kidding, please stay!  (They sit back down as Wrestler 1 hands the microphone back to Announcer and then jogs down the ramp to enter the ring)

Announcer: What a fiend!  And now, weighing 150 lbs and looking for trouble in all the right places, please welcome, APOCALYPSE RISEN!

Wrestler 2: (Runs out through the curtains, pointing and yelling at Wrestler 1 as the audience members at the end of either side of the ramp shrink away) I’m coming for YOU, d’ya hear me?!  I’m coming for YOU!

Wrestler 1: (Standing in the center of the ring, spreads arms wide as Wrestler 2 hops up through the ropes) Come and get me, I’m right here!

Audience: [Polite applause]

Referee: (Struggling to separate the two Wrestlers who are lunging toward each other) Let’s have a nice, clean match, OK?!

Wrestler 1: You wish!

Wrestler 2: Oh, it is ON!

Referee: Aaaaand – BEGIN!  (Releases the Wrestlers and steps back as the loud music stops and a bell clangs to signal the start of the match)

Wrestler 1 and Wrestler 2: (Grabbing the back of each other’s head) AAAAHHHH!!!!

Audience: [Stunned silence]

(Wrestler 1 throws Wrestler 2 onto the ring’s mat)

Wrestler 2: (Exaggeratedly twitches around) Ah!  My back!

Audience Member 1: (Leans in toward the ring) Oh no, are you OK?

Wrestler 1: (Leans over the ropes) No, he is not OK!  He’s going to be DESTROYED!

Audience Member 1: (Sits back) Oh dear.

Referee: (To Wrestler 1) You: off the ropes!  (Starts counting with exaggerated hand gestures) ONE!  TWO! –

Wrestler 1: (Gets off the ropes to get in Referee’s face) Get outta my face, Ref!

Audience Member 2: Rude.

(Wrestler 2 suddenly grabs Wrestler 1 by the ankle and yanks the latter down onto the mat)

Audience Member 3: Hey, that’s cheating!

Audience Member 4: I must say, even if it’s technically a legal maneuver, it shouldn’t be allowed all the same; it’s just not cricket.

Wrestler 2: (Lifting Wrestler 1’s leg in the air while pinning the rest of him; Referee dives to their level and starts counting with exaggerated hand gestures and long pauses between numbers) Then we’re real lucky this ain’t cricket, eh?!

Audience Member 4: Well I never!

Wrestler 2: I bet you haven’t!

(Wrestler 1 breaks out of the hold before Referee reaches “THREE!”, then show-kicks Wrestler 2 in the stomach)

Wrestler 2: (Bowls over in fake agony) Ooooohhhhh!!!!

Audience: [Sympathetic wincing]

Wrestler 1: (Strutting around the ring, arms wide open toward the Audience, looking for cheers and/or boos) Yeah?!  Yeah?!

Audience: [Disapproving silence]

Wrestler 1: [Uncomfortable throat-clearing]

(Wrestler 2 suddenly rolls out of the ring and runs toward an empty row to grab an unused folding chair; Wrestler 1 also rolls out of the ring)

Referee: Hey!  Both of you back in here now!

Wrestler 1: (Turns to shout back at Referee) You’re not the boss of me!

(Wrestler 2 runs up from behind and bashes Wrestler 1 in the head with the chair, knocking the latter to the floor)

Audience Member 5: (Seated right in front of this, suddenly stands) Help!  Someone call an ambulance!

Wrestler 1 and Wrestler 2: (Each holding a hand out to Audience Member 5) No-no, it’s fine, everything’s fine – !

Referee: (Leaning over the ropes; to Audience Member 5) Get back in your seat, please!

Audience Member 5: (Slowly sits back down) This is worse than Titus Andronicus.

Wrestler 6: (Sticks head out between the curtains) NO IT ISN’T!  (Is pulled back by unseen hands)

Referee: (To Wrestler 1 and Wrestler 2) Get back in here now or you’re both disqualified!

Wrestler 2: (While re-entering the ring) All right, Ref, hold your horses!

Audience Member 6: (Leans down toward Wrestler 1 as the latter melodramatically struggles to stand after the head-bashing) Keep your chin up – just know I’m rooting for you, old sport.

Wrestler 1: (Pauses mid-stagger) …Thanks.

(After Wrestler 1 re-enters the ring, both Wrestlers deliver over-the-top slaps, kicks, punches, body-slams, and other mutual punishments to the resounding sound of silence, with an occasional whimper from an audience member)

Referee: (Gets a signal from Announcer and leans down to mutter as Wrestler 2 is pinning Wrestler 1) Wrap it up.

Wrestler 1: (With head clamped in a half nelson by Wrestler 2, mutters back) Now?  But we haven’t even gotten to the high-dives yet!

Referee: (Mutters) I don’t think they’d be appreciated.  (Louder with exaggerated hand movements) ONE!  TWO!  THREE!

(Bell clangs rapidly and loud music starts up again as Wrestler 2 stands in triumph and has an arm raised by Referee to be declared the victor)

Announcer: And the winner is… APOCALYPSE RISEN!

Wrestler 2: (Raises both arms) YESSS!!!  (Leans down to Wrestler 1 still lying on the mat) In!  Your!  Face!

Wrestler 1: [Moans in stage pain]

Audience: [Polite applause]

Announcer: (As Wrestler 2 exits the ring, circles the four sides of the audience looking for cheers and/or boos and receiving stunned stares instead, then follows Wrestler 1 who is staggering up the ramp) Coming up next: another epic match, another bout of obliteration!  Sit tight, folks, you don’t want to miss a single moment!  (Quickly turns and goes through the curtains to the backstage area, then points to Wrestler 6) You’re up next: recite the whole dang play if you have to at this point; we’re dying out there.

Wrestler 6: (Holding back tears) Really?  This is like a dream come true.

Wrestler 5: (Shakes wrists and rotates ankles to warm up) I don’t get it: I thought those Shakespeare plays are so bloody and what-not, you’d think everyone out there’d lap this all up.

Wrestler 6: (After briefly gargling salt water) Yes, well, the plays may often be bloody, but the audiences for them nowadays are pretty sedate; we would’ve done better with the groundlings at the Globe Theatre from days of old.

Wrestler 5: Yeah.  You know, that makes me wonder….

Wrestler 6: What?

Wrestler 5: How’s the other venue holding up, then?

Wrestler 5 and Wrestler 6: (Look off into the distance to ponder) Hmmm…. 

THE OTHER VENUE 

(Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene I is being performed on a gymnasium stage as casually dressed audience members rowdily watch)

“Mercutio”: “O calm, dishonorable, vile submission!  Alla staccata carries it away.”  (Draws a prop sword)

Audience: Ooooooohhhh!!!!

“Tybalt”: “I am for you.”  (Also draws a prop sword)

Audience: Whoooooooooaaaaaaaa!!!!

“Romeo”: “Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.”

“Mercutio”: (To “Tybalt”) “Come, sir, your passado.  (“Mercutio” and “Tybalt” begin stage sword fighting)

Audience: (Standing as one) YEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!  DESTROY HIM!!!!!!

(The fight and dialogue continue until “Mercutio” is “stabbed” by “Tybalt”)

Audience: YEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!/BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

“Mercutio”: “I am hurt.   A plague o’ both houses!”

Audience Member 7: You tell `em, Mercutio!

(After more dialogue and fighting, “Romeo”  “stabs” “Tybalt”)

Audience: (Still standing) YEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!/BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Audience Member 8: Oh no, Tybalt!

Audience Member 9: Finally, Romeo!  About time you did something, you twit!

(Backstage, Director raptly watches the action both on-stage and in the seats as Venue Owner approaches)

Venue Owner: (Quietly to Director) Again, I am so sorry for the mix-up – I don’t even know how to begin making up for it!

Director: (Without looking away from the two sets of crowds) Hm?  Oh, don’t even worry about it.

Venue Owner: …For real?

“Prince”: “Immediately we do exile him hence.”

Audience: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

Audience Member 10: Justice for Tybalt!

Audience Member 11: Romeo did nothing wrong!

Audience: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Director: (Grinning wildly; to Venue Owner) Are you kidding?  Other than their extreme disappointment that Juliet wouldn’t hip toss Romeo over the balcony earlier, this is probably the most enthusiastic audience we’ve ever had!

Story 598: Retail Time Vs. Real-World Time

            (In a department store full of vacationing children, suffering parents/guardians, and irritated regulars, Shopper enters pushing a cart and whistling happily while zigzagging through the crowds)

Shopper: Ahhhhh…. Nothing beats coming into an air-conditioned store on a hot summer’s day.  Except maybe going to the beach.  Or a pool.  Or staying at home.  Or – ooh, slushies!  (Diverts to the front-and-center slushy counter and orders the biggest size to nurse throughout the store) Ahhhhh…. Nothing beats a freezing, sugary drink in an air-conditioned store on a hot summer’s – (Nearly chokes on the slushy when entering an open space filled with “BACK TO SCHOOL!” displays) What horror is this?!  It’s only July!

Employee: (Slowly passing by with a cart full of tried-on clothes to reshelve) You’re telling me – we had to put all these up by 4^th of July weekend.

Shopper: (Whispers at Employee’s steadily retreating form) Madness.  (Turns back to one of the displays, stares at the notebooks, pens, pencils, backpacks, and lunchboxes waiting eagerly to be brought to school, then shakes head to snap out of it and mutters while turning the cart around) It’s OK – it can’t hurt you – you haven’t had to go back to school in over 20 years –that’s mildly depressing….

(Shopper forces the cart away from the gravitational pull of school supplies and merrily rolls along, ignoring the clearance swimwear and beach gear, and turns a corner to stare down a long aisle)

Shopper: WHAT THE BLAZES IS THIS?!

(Halloween decorations and costumes fill the entire aisle, both sides)

Motion-Sensor Giant Werewolf: (Looms over Shopper entering the aisle) Beware the full moon, beware the setting sun, beware the bubbling cauldron, beware the grave, ahahahaha!

Shopper: I think you’re a little confused there, creep.  (To the rest of the aisle, some parts of which are moving) I can’t face your torments right now – begone!  (Nothing changes) Oh right, I’m the one who has to leave.  (Maneuvers the cart to the next aisle and starts to go down it)

Motion-Sensor Giant Turkey: (Looms over Shopper entering the aisle) Hi there!  This is Tom Turkey wishing you and yours a Happy Thanks– !

Shopper: Nope!  (Immediately turns around to leave the aisle and runs with the cart as fast as possible through the human obstacle course in the store’s main thoroughfare until reaching the end, then sharply turns and heads down that aisle to reach the back corner of the store, sipping the slushy the entire way)

Shopper: (Noisily slurping the bottom of the cup while turning the corner at the back of the store) Safe at last, safe at –

Winter Wonderland: JINGLE BELLS/ JINGLE BELLS/ JINGLE ALL THE –

Shopper: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!  (Flings away the empty cup, abandons the cart, and somehow avoids collisions while running through the crowds and back out the main entrance into the hot summer’s day) No one will take summer away from me – NO ONE!!! 

Employee: (Watching while still slowly pushing the cart of clothes; softly) Wish I could join you….