Thursday, February 02, 2006
My Girlfriend Left Me For A Dishwasher
Interior. Manhattan Transfer sits in his bedroom surrounded by gigantic dustballs. There is no bed. The phone rings. He hesistates to answer. Then picks up.
MT: Hey, baby. How's it going in your new place?
GF: Oh. It's great. You'll be so jealous I have a dishwashing machine.
MT: And our bed. This place looks huge without it.
GF: I'm sure. Hey, do you mind coming by and sitting around my new place and waiting for the cable guy to come on Tuesday. I've got to work, and it's not like you're doing anything.
MT: You want me to come by the place you left me for so that you can have cable more quickly?
GF: Mmm-hmmm. Is that okay?
MT: I guess so. I can nap in a bed for a bit. And maybe I'll bring my dishes over to give the machine a test.
MT: Hey, baby. How's it going in your new place?
GF: Oh. It's great. You'll be so jealous I have a dishwashing machine.
MT: And our bed. This place looks huge without it.
GF: I'm sure. Hey, do you mind coming by and sitting around my new place and waiting for the cable guy to come on Tuesday. I've got to work, and it's not like you're doing anything.
MT: You want me to come by the place you left me for so that you can have cable more quickly?
GF: Mmm-hmmm. Is that okay?
MT: I guess so. I can nap in a bed for a bit. And maybe I'll bring my dishes over to give the machine a test.
