The beginning of God knows what.
I want to do an experiment. I wrote a story a long time ago I just recently unearthed. I read it again and decided I liked it, but it needed a lot of work and polish before I could present it in any way I'd be proud of. I had almost forgotten about it again until Amber reminded me that we had joked about me typing it up. I've since decided that I'm going to be proud of what I wrote even if it is really shitty. After all, that's what LiveJournal is for, right? So what I'm going to do is post the story in the original form and then in every revised form after that. If you don't like something about it or this, eat a dick.
I have no idea when I wrote this, only that it was sometime after tenth grade (2002). I used to have bouts of insomnia when I would feel compelled to write what I had on my mind. Usually this ended up being fancified versions of my life, possibly leading to a memoir some day. I wrote this one night at around 2 in the morning, and I can't remember what was going through my head. This is the original version, typed almost exactly how I wrote it all those years ago. I know there are pacing and structural problems, and almost a complete lack of character development, but this is just a rough draft. Also, I was in to making impersonal characters back then and putting them in very personal situations. I have no idea why.
Setting: A bar. Not an unusual one.
A very attractive, very attractively dressed woman is sitting at the bar, nursing/looking at some exotic pink drink with an umbrella in it. Two empty barstools are on either side of her
An average looking man wearing khakis and a blue, buttoned-down shit sits to her right. "Hi," he says with a slight, friendly smile.
She glances over to him and looks back at her drink slightly grunting in disgust. "Hi," she says, almost as though she was forced by some untold emotion.
The man slightly chuckles to himself, "I knew it, I just knew it." He says to no one in particular.
"Hmm?" she replies, feigning interest.
"I saw you as soon as I came in. I saw you and I thought, 'Wow, she is really attractive!' But I thought you were so horribly out of my league you'd just brush me off like any other sub-super-model that sat down next to you. But I saw how depressed you looked and thought that maybe all the other guys thought that too and never approached you. So in a roundabout way I thought I might have a chance to date someone I didn't feel even slightly ashamed to be seen with in public."
She is now very interested and is staring at him.
"Well, I suppose now I will go home and masturbate. Not thinking of you of course- I have pornstars to watch instead. And then I'll sit, wallowing in my own shame until I cry myself to sleep. But I want to thank you," he turns and looks her in the eye, "for completely ruining any chances I ever had in approaching any attractive woman from now on. Thank you for letting the negative side of my brain take complete control. Thank you for destroying the little happiness I had in my life." He gets up and walks out of the bar. The woman follows him out.
"Wait!" She calls out, but he ignores her and gets in his car and drives off. She breaks down crying right out in the gravel parking lot. "You're right," she sobs, "you're totally right." She pulls herself together and walks back into the bar and into the one person woman's bathroom. She locks the door and looks at herself in the mirror. She is still crying. She smashes the mirror with her fist and picks up a piece of it. She slits her throat and bleeds to death on the sticky linoleum bathroom floor.
Meanwhile, the man from the bar is driving home. It's late and he's the only one on the road. He stops his car and writes a note on a napkin from the bar. He folds it and puts it in a plastic bag on his dashboard. He then proceeds to drive his car. But he takes a right, and drives only halfway over a bridge before he sharply turns right again and plummets to his wet death below him.
~end.
I have no idea when I wrote this, only that it was sometime after tenth grade (2002). I used to have bouts of insomnia when I would feel compelled to write what I had on my mind. Usually this ended up being fancified versions of my life, possibly leading to a memoir some day. I wrote this one night at around 2 in the morning, and I can't remember what was going through my head. This is the original version, typed almost exactly how I wrote it all those years ago. I know there are pacing and structural problems, and almost a complete lack of character development, but this is just a rough draft. Also, I was in to making impersonal characters back then and putting them in very personal situations. I have no idea why.
Setting: A bar. Not an unusual one.
A very attractive, very attractively dressed woman is sitting at the bar, nursing/looking at some exotic pink drink with an umbrella in it. Two empty barstools are on either side of her
An average looking man wearing khakis and a blue, buttoned-down shit sits to her right. "Hi," he says with a slight, friendly smile.
She glances over to him and looks back at her drink slightly grunting in disgust. "Hi," she says, almost as though she was forced by some untold emotion.
The man slightly chuckles to himself, "I knew it, I just knew it." He says to no one in particular.
"Hmm?" she replies, feigning interest.
"I saw you as soon as I came in. I saw you and I thought, 'Wow, she is really attractive!' But I thought you were so horribly out of my league you'd just brush me off like any other sub-super-model that sat down next to you. But I saw how depressed you looked and thought that maybe all the other guys thought that too and never approached you. So in a roundabout way I thought I might have a chance to date someone I didn't feel even slightly ashamed to be seen with in public."
She is now very interested and is staring at him.
"Well, I suppose now I will go home and masturbate. Not thinking of you of course- I have pornstars to watch instead. And then I'll sit, wallowing in my own shame until I cry myself to sleep. But I want to thank you," he turns and looks her in the eye, "for completely ruining any chances I ever had in approaching any attractive woman from now on. Thank you for letting the negative side of my brain take complete control. Thank you for destroying the little happiness I had in my life." He gets up and walks out of the bar. The woman follows him out.
"Wait!" She calls out, but he ignores her and gets in his car and drives off. She breaks down crying right out in the gravel parking lot. "You're right," she sobs, "you're totally right." She pulls herself together and walks back into the bar and into the one person woman's bathroom. She locks the door and looks at herself in the mirror. She is still crying. She smashes the mirror with her fist and picks up a piece of it. She slits her throat and bleeds to death on the sticky linoleum bathroom floor.
Meanwhile, the man from the bar is driving home. It's late and he's the only one on the road. He stops his car and writes a note on a napkin from the bar. He folds it and puts it in a plastic bag on his dashboard. He then proceeds to drive his car. But he takes a right, and drives only halfway over a bridge before he sharply turns right again and plummets to his wet death below him.
~end.