Of course, another thing I do while walking along is talent scouting. Plenty of hot, leggy women around here in Dallas and I do oh so appreciate those women kind enough to display their wares for public consumption. If only I could return the favor! So I see this self-involved chick furiously texting on her smart phone in front of one of those very upscale nouveau riche loft places. She had this long, silky blonde hair nicely contrasting with her well-arranged black outfit - a dynamite package! And she smoked too! Always a sign of low self-esteem in a woman. Sweeeet!
My mind was racing on how I could somehow introduce her to my penis. Hell, if I just got any part of her time I'd be happy, she was so unreachable. Try as I might not to, I'm always self-conscious of my street clothes and my semi-vagabond look I just can't hide. You can put me in a tailored suit and I'd still feel the same. It was obvious she was a woman floating down life on a river of perpetual affluence and easy male attention. It's with those kind of women with whom I have the greatest barrier - and peril.
So that put me in quite a pickle as I struggled to speak out to her when I noticed an extremely heavy piano hanging several stories above her head on a hoist where the rope was beginning to fray. But it seems I have this huge credibility problem whenever I speak the truth. Lie all day and I get along with people just fine. But try and speak honestly and out come the knives! Quite frankly, this has cowed me into cowardly silence. Not wanting to get yelled at, I searched in vain for a valid voice. Unfortunately, once again my sound trumped my words as I stammered out news of her precarious position, daring to interrupt her day.
I winced at the all too common reaction.
"Piano? What piano? What color is it? How many keys, eh? You don't know how many keys then you're lying! Is it in tune or out of tune, do you even know that? What is its height and weight? Where was it made? Who owns it? How can you prove it even exists? Is it just a figment of your imagination? You're a dreamer out of touch with reality. Don't bring your negative philosophy bullshit religion to me. I know math. I know science. REAL things, not somebody's magical wishful thinking. That's called being a person of reason. You have suspended critical thinking just like everyone else. Do you know the frictional coefficient of gravity on an orb of this size? You don't, do you? You're just a fucking idiot wasting my time -"
Yes, I am an idiot. Regardless, I was pretty sure I wasn't wasting her time in this scenario. It really is true there are none so blind as those who think they see the whole picture but see only a fraction. "If you would just look up from your phone for just one second - "
"Oh, you'd love that wouldn't you? Invading my personal space because you got no life of your own. Fuck off and die, loser. How about that for an answer? Stupid men are always coming on to me. I see right through you, you're not fooling anyone! Men are pigs! Sex is all you can think about. Why should I listen to some horny toad pervert? I'm a knockout and I know it. But you just can't get passed that to see my inner beauty. Men are, like, soooo shallow. And it's obvious you're not even successful. How much money do you make wearing crappy clothes like that? What makes you think I could want someone like you? Problem with men is they need to grow the fuck up and listen to what people are telling them - "
By this time the rope had snapped, starting the piano's descent. That's when I realized I'd have to employ the wisdom of Themistocles and deceive her for her own good. "Hey, look, up there! A 50 percent off Gucci handbag sale!" As if yanked by a string, her head shot upwards to face her fate - a fate that could still be avoided if she moved instantly without speaking.
"Oh, my God! There's a piano falling on me! You little fucking twerp, why didn't you tell me? You made this happen, didn't you? If you hadn't been standing over there distracting me with your patheticness that piano would not be falling! There's just no living with you people! You're so damn busy projecting your own phobias and insecurities on to everyone else you don't realize it's not me who has the problem but you! You ever think of trying a little self-examination in your life? Might do you some good. Not going to kill you, you know! Sorry for the sarcasm but you people just get under my skin. I have a life. Put some objective thought into your head! Stop trying to fix others and fix yourself. Then you will be more like I am!"
"But you're dead." Her crushed and mangled body never heard those words. Come to think of it, she didn't hear any of the rest of them either.
Alas, this isn't the first time I've seen a piano fall on someone's head. What to do?
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