Good afternoon my goodest sir, how did the holiday weekend treat you? Get out much? Have a barbecue? Wonderful. Good. Good. And what a nice watch you’ve got there. Very chic, I love it. No, I’m sorry but I don’t know much about watches. I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to tour your fine establishment. I have outgrown my old apartment—too many knicks, you see, too many knacks—and desperately need to upgrade. Is there anybody available right now to show me a tour of the complex? Oh wonderful, that’s so good.
Before we begin, is there a bathroom in your lobby?
Now, why would you need an ID for me to visit the restroom in the very apartment complex in which I will doubtlessly soon be living. I don’t even need to use it. I just want to inspect it. As my dearest mother used to say: “You can tell a lot about an apartment by their lobby’s bathroom.”
Oh. Maybe in August. Maybe September. Are you expecting a vacancy any time between now and December? Of course I am serious. I just find your insistence on holding my ID hostage deeply unserious.
I see you eyeballing my large iced Dunkin Donut coffee with suspicion. Rest assured that I have no need to pee nor to commit the unspeakable alternative and this alleged clue you see rattling in my hand is nothing but a red herring. How embarrassing for you. Now if you could show me the restroom, we could continue talking.
Yes, yes—I was thinking a studio. Or maybe a one or two bedroom. Something in that range, sure. Now the bath—Oh, I don’t know. Maybe 500 to 2000 square feet, I suppose. Oh, yes we love a good balcony, don’t we? Grow your basil, yummy basil. Now the–
No, I’m not much of a swimmer—Wait is the pool near the bathroom? Can we go see it?
I’m fine. Healthy as a horse. Healthy, healthy, healthy, that’s me for you. I bounce leg-to-leg like this as part of a new exercise. It’s very popular in Los Angeles. Does this apartment have a gym? Does the gym have a shower?
No, no pets. No girlfriend. No friends. I don’t play musical instruments or smoke and barely exist. Please, please, I’m begging you to show me the bathroom. I’ve changed my mind. Take my ID. Take my wallet.
Oh God. Oh sweet Lord on high.
My wallet. I’ve left it in the car. I didn’t mean to, I just, I, it must have been when I went to the drive-thru at Dunkin, sometimes you know I just put it in the door, you know because it’s hard to put it back in your pocket. I’m not going to make it to the car in time. I couldn’t find parking. I’m three blocks away. I will leave my fucking shoes with you, please just show me where the bathroom is.
Is it through the gym? I bet it’s through the gym, isn’t it? The business center? Maybe you have a rec room or something. Come on man, have a heart.
You got me, okay? You got me. I’m not a customer, I’m a liar. Is that what you want to hear? I’m a liar! Liar liar liar liar liar. I’m a stinky little baby. A little baby boy. Piss baby. Wah wah, look at me I’m a widdle piss baby wolling awound in piss and cawffee. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted, you sick fuck? Please, please have mercy on my soul. I’m begging you. Please–
Mother, I don’t want to die like this.
I’m so sorry.
I could have been more than this.
I should have never given up on piano lessons.
I could have been a doctor.
I could have been happy.
It’s all over now, mom. It’s breaching the urethra. I’m not going to make it. I’m sorry you were ever saddled with a son like this. You must have held so many dreams for me. It’s over now. It’s all over, mama.
Mama.