This is a really bizarre little scene I wrote up in the middle of the night, out of boredom. Nothing really happens, but I think the dialogue is pretty good, and it should entretain a bit, before it finally drags out.
So. Read it, and gimmie some C&C, please. Enjoy.
[R For Language]
“Yeah? So, what did he do?”
“He fucked her.” Atticus laughed, before taking a sip of his whiskey. John nodded, trying to look serious. “This is no laughing matter, Atty. The girl’s seventeen years old, he could go to jail…”
“Oh, come on, now,” Atticus mumbled. They had arrived at a quarter past, and they had been waiting for over an hour. Being regulars, the drinks had been on the house. The Anansi family was a well-known one in the higher circles of New York, and when some petty restaurant that would probably be out of business in two months, when the new craze comes along, has to make them wait— they make sure that they are giving them something to make it up for. Most of the times, it was drinks. Some times it was better tables, or some dessert. Atticus, the eldest of the seven children of Gabriel Anansi, enjoyed these gifts, not only because, as they say, the best things in life are free, but also because he fully intended on leaving before they were actually given a table.
“I’m serious, man.” Jonathan Myers fixed his glasses, and took a sip of his Martini. “I mean, what the fuck is Howard thinking? First of all, he has no business hiring an underage assistant. I mean, this girl has, what? No qualifications, at all. And then he fucks her? What in the hell is Howard doing?”
“Johnny, he’s just having a little fun.”
“Well, let him have his fun someplace else. I’m next to their office, alright, and he’s banging her against the wall. And it’s like, bang, bang, bang!” Jonathan banged his fist against the table, softly, making the glasses shake. “I’m, like, what the fuck is that noise? And then she’s screaming. So, I walk up to the office right, and the blinds are shut. So, I’m thinking, like, he’s not doing what I think he’s doing, is he? And all the other guys in the office, are like laughing, and giggling like fucking… I don’t know what.”
“Schoolgirls?” Atticus contributed.
“I don’t fucking know, but they’re doing no goddamn fucking work. You should come by the office some time, Atty. I mean, it’s a pandemonium. I got Howard fucking his underage secretary next to me, and everybody taking turns to go Peeping John on their asses.”
“Tom. It’s Peeping Tom.”
Jonathan sighed, rubbing his eyes. “What?”
“You said Peeping John, and it’s—”
“Right, right. Tom. Whatever.” Jonathan savored the last taste of his Martini, before putting the glass down, and fixing his tie. He felt tired. Everything around him felt so stale, worn out. “I don’t know, Atty… I just don’t… I need a vacation, or something. Abuse of my expense account... or... You know, something.” Atticus nodded, picking his fingernails. “Actually, that’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What? A vacation?”
“No, Howard and his freaking expense account. I mean, God, have you seen his new car? The… The Mercedes— Jesus-fucking-Christ, it must’ve cost an arm, and a leg.” Howard Anansi was the youngest of all the Anansi family, and had always been the smarter, no matter what other people said. He had realized, before Atticus even, what the name, and the lineage implied. The world was theirs. He could fuck his seventeen year old assistant, because he was Howard Anansi. He could sodomize his expense account, and even charge the company, to buy a Mercedes he would probably use for a couple of weeks before growing bored of it, because hundreds of employees would still walk into a building which had the name of his family in it every morning. Saving money? Limits? Ethics? The Anansi family was above all that. Howard had been the first to take notice of that, but the others were catching on. Atticus looked at his watch- two hundred, and fifty dollars-, and realized they needed to get going.
“Hmph,” Atticus groaned, ignoring Jonathan. “So. Did you see them?”
“Who?”
“You know.”
“I don’t. Who?” Myers asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Howey, and… and his assistant. You saw them doing it?”
“Well… Yeah. I barged inside.” Jonathan cleared his throat, embarrassed. “I couldn’t be certain of what the fuck they were doing until I saw them, I mean…”
Atty leaned forward, closer to him. “And how were they going at it? Back, or front?”
“Doggie style. In the leather couch,” Jonathan answered, chuckling. Atticus clicked his tongue, grinning.
“See? I always knew Howard was a back-door guy.” He stood up, fixing his tie- forty dollars-, and looking down on Jonathan. “He can’t look at the girl’s eyes. He’s a sleazy guy. He knows he’ll probably be fucking someone else in two days. See? Do I know my brother, or what?”
Jonathan stood up, and accompanied Atticus, as they walked towards the exit. A waiter walked towards them, trying to make them stay, but was quieted by a twenty dollar bill, which Atticus quickly took out of the pockets of his suit- seven hundred and ninety-six dollars. “Yeah, so what are you doing tonight? You going to the fund-raiser?”
“No. I’m staying in, this Asian girl I’m seeing is cooking some shit up… I don’t know, she does this… this thing, like, with the fish… It’s pretty disgusting.” He concluded, as they walked out the door, towards the parking lot. “But we’ll probably end up having sex, so that’s good. I’m looking forward for that.” Atticus looked around, trying to find his car. “Can you believe this shit?”
“What?”
“They have no fucking valet parking. I mean, if I want to spend thirty hours looking for my car, then I can… Ah.” He pointed towards his car, a 2006 Porsche Cayman- fifty-eight thousand dollars. “There she is. Anyways, what’s up? Are you going to the fund-raiser?”
“No, no. I gotta… go over some contracts, and… Then I just wanna sleep.”
“It’s not that important, is it?”
“Oh, no, no—”
“Because I can go, you know? I mean, if you want me to be, like, the face of the… you know?” Atticus clicked the remote in his hand, and opened the door of his car, plunging himself inside. The smell of the leather was intoxicating. “I mean, I’d have to get rid of what’s-her-face, ‘cause my mom doesn’t really like Asians, but I can make it. Why doesn’t she like Asians--? I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure she doesn’t.”
“Didn’t she yell at you for buying that Honda, the other day?”
“Ah, right.” Atty smiled, shaking his head. “That was funny. So, do you want me at this thing? What’s it about, again?”
“No, you don’t have to go. Jack, and Fredrick will be there, with your mom.” Jonathan sat back, biting his lip. “It’s about… um… I don’t know. I don’t really know, something about the orphans?”
“No, that was last week.”
“Then, I have no fucking idea.”
Atticus started up the car, and drove out of the parking lot, whistling to the soft jazz coming out of the speakers. “I’m hungry, man. Let’s get some cheeseburgers, or something.”
