The Relation of Sweet-Talking to @ss-Kicking
Before I forget, Happy Birthday to Nicholas Alan, my Theater of Cruelty co-star and all-around good sport. Our motto: Games Without Frontiers, War Without Tears. (Google it, Nick–it’s the title of a song that came out BEFORE YOU WERE BORN.) He once thought he was just teasing a shy co-worker, not knowing that I have long claws and a great many teeth.
Also thanks to Christine Cecelia, who left carrot cupcakes at work, of which I had, well, more than one. I still fondly remember her cream cheese brownies. And I’m married to a baker, so I’m, well, an expert consumer of baked goods.
Events of last night:
Location of burglar alarm: “Motion detector on the dance floor.” Well, I should hope so. Why a church would have a dance floor is another matter. Actually, the building used to be a nightclub. Those people can dance if they want to, as the old saying goes, but how about “Do you love me, now that I can dance?” Isn’t that rather shallow?
–Complaint that an ex-girlfriend had written on the caller’s door with lipstick. I don’t wear bright lipstick, but it would be worth it, to be able to make such dramatic statements. I’d be writing in lipstick all the time.
And now on to our actual subject matter:
Watch the instructional video in the above link, which I hope works properly. (Yes, I read the instructions, but I didn’t understand them and just improvised. Yes, one has to keep up with the new technology to succeed in today’s world. Yes, I am doomed to failure.)
Note the dynamic in the final scene, and how Stephen’s voice gets so tender once he’s cornered his quarry. (The eyes, though, tell another story.) This is, of course, a take-off on countless scenes in suspense movies. And it’s not just something movies make up for dramatic effect. As you’ll recall (and, again, I should insert a link to that old post here, shouldn’t I?), I was once cornered by someone who’d decided to hate me for some reason, and she pretended she wanted to be my friend until the moment she assaulted me. So Rom and I were wondering, is this something specific to our culture? Or can you go anywhere in the world and have someone act all concerned for your welfare right before they kill you?
This got me to thinking about all the B.S. that goes on on the street (you know, the Mean Streets, the Boulevard of Broken Dreams, etc.). You got your rhetorical questions:
—What are you lookin’ at? I was admiring your fashion sense, and wondering why you’re standing around outside a pool hall instead of, you know, playing pool.
—Wanna f*ck? Yeah! There’s nothing that turns me on like some guy yelling out of a car!
–You wanna get your @ss kicked? Yeah, that’s actually why I left the house this morning. I hope you can oblige me. (Actually, I never leave the house before noon, except to go to church, which doesn’t usually involve @ss-kicking, either.)
And your declarative statements:
–My buddy likes you. Do tell.
Another request for information:
—Are you walkin’ to the mall? Said by a teenager downtown, mocking my winter coat. In December. I don’t know, you’re shivering in your denim jacket, so who’s the fool now? And speaking of outerwear, how about…
—Nice leather jacket. Stated by a scoundrelly-looking woman in a bad part of town I was walking through. This seemed like sweet-talking before a robbery. Luckily, I walk fast, so I have that leather jacket to this day.
And if my video link didn’t work, I’ll do what I can. (That phrase always reminds me of the Violent Femmes song “Never Tell,” in which the phrase “I’ll do what I can” is spoken by a serial killer. A link to that song would be nice here too, wouldn’t it?)