#594: ALL SMARM, NO CHARM
Cab Driver: Is it cold enough for ya?
Schmutzie: Definitely. I can't believe how cold it is.
Cab Driver: Cold? What are you talking about? If you think this is cold, you don't know cold. I've walked two miles in -45°C weather. This isn't cold. [snorts, chuckles, breathes emphatically]
Schmutzie: Yeah, I guess I've been through worse weather. [rolls eyes]
Cab Driver: Hey, is that a new grocery store there?
Schmutzie: Yep. It's all organic. [cringes inside, waits for smarm]
Cab Driver: And it all looks like crap, too, I bet. Who cares if it's organic if it's not fresh? A restaurant would never serve food that looked like what they've got in there. What would you rather eat, a rotten vegetable or a fresh vegetable? I know what I would eat. [snorts, chuckles, breathes emphatically]
Schmutzie: Fresh, of course. We mostly go there for the farm-fresh eggs, because they taste better. Their yolks are a crazy shade of yellow. [cringes, self-loathes for speaking, regrets]
Cab Driver: Show me an egg that doesn't come from a farm. [chuckle, snort] I get mine from the grocery store near my house. Every egg they sell comes from a farm. Their yolks are even yellow. [snorts, breathes emphatically, grins self-satisfyingly, chuckles, shakes head]
Schmutzie: [grits teeth, holds tongue] Thanks. You can let us out here. [indicates an apartment building, feels waves of relief]
Cab Driver: You live here? These places are old. Does the plumbing even work anymore? Now, the place I live in is built really well. Places like this, though, I don't know how they keep standing after...
Palinode: [interrupts, averts violence, displays brilliance] So, how much'll that be?
Schmutzie: [swiftly exits cab, grinds knuckles into trunk of the car, does not maim or kill, growls under breath] I could fucking kill that guy and his sarcasm. Fucking. Kill.
The taxi pulls away from the curb.
Palinode: How are you doing? Are you okay?
Schmutzie: I'll live. Do you think that guy has any friends?
Palinode: Yeah, but they're all severe alcoholics.
Schmutzie: You know what? I fucking love you.
The above conversation was written as a therapeutic exercise to rid myself of its residue. The exchange with that cab driver has been stuck in my head for over a week now, knocking around in my brain with its pointy corners. It has been replaying itself over and over in my mind like that Wham! cassette tape I obsessed over in 1984, only it's the cabbie's snorting and self-satisfied chuckling that pipes through my thoughts.
This obsession I've had with this cab driver makes me think: if this is the worst my brain has to throw at me right now, especially at this time of year when I am most prone to angsty depression, I am confident that the 5-HTP I've been taking must be doing me some good.
Between December 7th and December 15th (approximately), if you would like to support this website and urge the voting public in my direction, feel free to post the following link in your blog entries or sidebar, and then e-mail me to let me know of your awesomeness:
<*a href="http://2006.weblogawards.org/2006/12/best_canadian_blog.php">Vote for Schmutzie's <*i>Milkmoney Or Not, Here I Come<*/i> as the 2006 Weblog Awards Best Canadian Blog<*/a>
Of course, remove the asterisks (*) so that the code will work, and if you're feeling thoroughly inspired, you can pair that link with one of these eye-catching badges.
The Syndicate of Schmutzie Stalwarts, despite being somewhat bitter about the terrible name chosen for their awesome collective endeavor, support the Schmutzie vote, and their sites are, in alphabetical order: