The Phone Call

She:  Did you buy those green garbage bags like I suggested?

He:  I bought the green garbage bags.  I just can’t find them.
Four big extra long tall rolls, and I have no idea.
Oh yeah, I think I have a lung infection.

She:  That’s awful, but did you buy those endorsed
by the Man from Glad?  Glad, get it?

He:  Yes they were glad.  It’s the only brand in town.  I was
supposed to put them on my windows but the heat came in
and I couldn’t touch anything.  I couldn’t touch the mouse
on my laptop.  The fan wasn’t working.  My lungs weren’t working.
I could still suck in some cigarette smoke though, even with
chronic bronchitis.

A car purred by, slightly obtrusively and a trickle of sweat dribbled down R’s glasses, obscuring the vision of his left eye, and at that point in meltdown heat, he realized, simplicity — putting up a green garbage bag.

She:  Russel!  Russel!  Are you there?

He:  Yup.

She:  What was that big crash, sounding like shattered glass?
Surely not the satellite dish?

He:  Don’t throw the cutlery at me, bitch.

She:  Is someone there?  Talk to me.  Think with your right eye.

A car hissed by, slightly obtrusively and a trickle of sweat dribbled down R’s glasses, obsuring the vision of his right eye.

He:  I’ve got to go now.  The chicken curry needs stirring.

Note:  I found these words in my notebook — the result of me and Russel Ayres (who resides in Australia) kidding around on the phone, one night.  There aren’t too many words of mine here, but it was fun.