DIARY OF A PROCRASTINATING SCREENWRITER V

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Flashback – 1997

Senior year at college.  Night.  I’m typing an email (as usual), trying to coordinate (again) my friends to work on a little short film, in between everyone’s conflicting pot smoking sessions and general malaise. 

Having run out of weed myself, I had nothing else better to do.

During those days, everything I wrote, everything I made, had to do with one girl – Caroline.  She was an actress, and in this little capsule of a school, a famous member of the student body, popular with the jocks, lesbians, vegetarians, you name it.  She could do no wrong – I’m sure she could kill and skin a small animal in the college center and no one would blink.

And somehow she and I ended up being a couple.  Don’t ask me how.  We had a weird sixth sense about each other –

“Hello, it’s Caroline”

Like I said, like how people with air pressure sensitivity can sense when a storm is coming –

“Hello?  Ricky?”

I just know when she’s calling.

“Hey.  Caroline.  Sorry, my mind was just –“

And I’m back in present time again.

“Have you heard from Jasper?  I’m worried, it’s not like for him to...”

She starts to tell me she hasn’t heard from Jasper in weeks.  I am kind of surprised at this point.  And kind of relieved.  Whatever is happening has cut off communication between them too.  She keeps yapping, as I try to throw as many “mm hmm” sounds in there as I can.  I remind myself to take notes after the call because someday, their complicated web relationship drama may indeed be my screenplay opus - the greatest love affair of all time.

I pour myself a scotch and sit down, listening to her spout.  I’m tempted to tell her about the time Jasper went to Carnivale in Rio and never mentioned it to her.  “Don’t sweat it Caro, I’m sure he’s enjoying himself with one… maybe three hospitable ladies…” disappears in my throat. 

“Sorry Ricky… how are you?”

Oh, that’s my cue.

“Well I –“

“Shit, that’s my call waiting – it might be Jasper I’ll call –“

She clicks away so fast she even cuts herself off.  I just stand still, as though any movement will send the stacks of papers around my apartment to the floor.

So that’s the introduction for Caroline.

Flashback – 1997

I’m writing an email.  I get an email from two people, almost at the same time.  Barely remember who they are.

One says: “Sorry, man.”

The other:  “Call me if you want.”

Caroline walks in.  She has this determined look on her face.  Her hands are clasped together – one of her few bad acting habits.  And she probably rehearsed, in fact I’m absolutely sure she did.  But when she opens her mouth, I know she’s forgotten what she was going to say, and tells me the absolute truth.

“I slept with Jasper.”

And my response?  I slowly turn my monitor toward her and point at the emails I just received.

“How did these jokers find out before me?”

What made our relationship so unexplainable allowed her breaking up with me to make so much sense. 

Somehow I became that little animal.  Skinned alive.  And no one cared.