Friday, August 11, 2006

venusian princess vs. martian warrior

Disclaimer: The following conversation is pure fiction. It is about a friend of mine. I found it on the internet. It is a fantasy which I just made up at night while I couldn’t sleep. It does not involve me. Besides, I was out of town when it happened.

*****

she: Those little ants are back in the kitchen. I cleaned and sprayed around the cat’s dish…blah, blah, blah, blah… blah, blah, blah, blah, …I cleaned behind the stove. I sprayed. I don’t understand… blah, blah, blah, blah… blah, blah, blah, blah….

he: Uh huh. [I will not say a thing. I will not say a thing. I will not say a thing. I will not say a thing. I will not say a thing. I will not say a thing. I will not say a thing. I will not say a thing.…]

she: blah, blah, blah, blah. I can’t see where they are coming from…blah, blah, blah, blah…This is frustrating. blah, blah, blah, blahblah, blah, blah, blah….

he: Uh huh. [I can do this. I am doing this: I will not say a thing. I will not say a thing. I will not say a thing….]

she: blah, blah, blah, blahblah, blah, blah, blah…I can’t stand those little ants. Where are they coming from?

he: Just put out some Tero (ant poison). [Geez, I know she doesn’t want a solution. She even was starting to wind down. And I couldn’t hold out for a couple more minutes?]

she: I did not ask for a solution.

he: …As matter of fact, you did. [Wonderful. All I had to say was, “Sorry, dear. You are right. Would you please forgive me?” But no, I wouldn't back down; I wouldn't roll over. Now, I’m toast. The kitchen is an igloo. There is not much more to lose. No need for compromise, only victory or nothing.]

she: I did not ask for a solution. You cannot say I asked for a solution. All I did was ask where the ants were coming from.

he: Why did you want to know where the ants were coming from? [I am going to see this through. I am committed. I am not only going to succeed, but I have also gained valuable insight into the mindset of a suicide bomber.]

she: So I can get at them and kill them.

he: That is why you put out the Tero. [Keep it up. I have not raised my voice. I show no emotion. I’m speaking in a matter-of-fact tone. I’m calm. I’m collected. Man, I’d make a good suicide bomber.]

she: How can I put the poison out if I don’t know where they are coming from?

he: It doesn’t matter where they are coming from. You put it where you can see them. [She misplayed that. My you-asked-for-a-solution gambit was shaky but she ceded that to me and now she is attacking the solution. In terms of a civil war battlefield, I now have the good ground.]

she: You mean I’m supposed to drop the poison on the ants as they walk by?

he: You put it out where they travel. They carry the poison back to where they are from. [Her sarcastic reply was a last, desperate counterattack. If I stay cool, stay calm, I think I win.…]

she: . . . .

he: . . . . [Yep. That is it. The suicide bomber wins.]

she: . . . .

he: . . . . [Maybe I should go to the office? After six to eight hours at the office, there is a good chance that she’ll cool down and the house will have defrosted some.]

she: . . . .

he: . . . . [Coffee. They have coffee at the office. Coffee is warm. Coffee is comforting. Coffee is good....]

she: . . . .




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