The Gum Thief - Douglas Coupland [81]
Bethany is so lucky to have met you.
Thank you.
DD
Bethany
Roger,
Okay, trust me, I couldn’t be more embarrassed. BUT on the other hand, you’ll never guess who came to visit me a few hours ago. Yes, that’s correct, Greg. Weeooo!!! Talk about weird. Someone from das Shtoop tipped him off. He walked in the door when I was at a low point (hospital food; yes, I’m eating again), and he was holding a bouquet of daisies with that blue dye in them, and the first thing he said to me was, “Okay, I know, I know, it’s those cheesy daisies with the blue dye in them, but I looked at the orange gladiolas they had downstairs—the other option— and they were like something you’d see at your grandmother’s funeral. That is, if your grandmother died in 1948 and the funeral was filmed in CancerVision. Who chooses the flowers in this place—the Mummy? And I could have gotten you an It’s a Boy! or an It’s a Girl! bouquet, but they were grim. If I popped out of the womb and saw one of those things, I’d say to myself, Man, this planet’s one uninspired place, and head right off to heaven.” Then he looked at me, and I looked at him—and his Ask Me About My Zoloft lapel pin. “So. Bethany. I hear you tried to kill yourself. Interesting. As I mentioned, the world is an uninspired place, but it can have its perks. The first thing we’re going to do, young lady, is get you back into some black lipstick, pronto. There’s a biker down the hall who got knifed, and her girlfriend is definitely the Black Dahlia sort. I’ll be right back.”
Once he came back to the room with his loot, I applied it and he said, “Now that’s much better.” Then he went on a rant about people who use the word “passionate.” Someone in the elevator had used a phrase to the effect of: Do only what you feel passionate about in life. I paraphrase Greg here: “I think this is an alarming trend, Bethany, this whole ‘passionate’ thing. I’m guessing it started about four years ago, and it’s driving me nuts. Let’s be practical: Earth was not built for six billion people all running around and being passionate about things. The world was built for about twenty million people foraging for roots and grubs.” (By this time, he was sitting down and eating chocolates that belonged to the woman in the coma in the bed beside mine.) “My hunch is that there was some self-help bestseller a few years back that told people to follow their passion. What a sucky expression. I can usually tell when people have recently read that book because they’re a bit distracted, and maybe they’ve done their hair a new way, and they’re always trying to discuss the Big Picture of life and failing miserably. And then, when you bump into them again six months later, they appear haggard and bitter, the joy drained from them—and this means that the universe is back to normal and that they’ve given up searching for a passion they’re doomed to never find. Want a chocolate?”
I said, “Greg, I feel like we’re on a date or something,” and he said, “Yes, Bethany—a date with death.”
Oh, Roger, I think I’m in love.
B.
Glove Pond:Kyle
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to fire you, Glo,” said Leonard Van Cleef.
“You what?” asked Gloria.
“Precisely what I said. You’re too old for the part, you’re too rotund for your costumes, you can’t remember your lines and, as of late, your looks are, well, there’s no other way to put it, falling apart.”
Kyle had never seen Gloria and Steve truly at a loss for words, but there’s always a first time.
“Well,” added Leonard, “if you two boozehounds have nothing further to say, I’ll gulp the rest of my Scotch and leave you.” He finished his drink, put down his tumbler and looked at Kyle. “These two basket cases have to be good for at least one novel, kiddo. Strip-mine the hell out of them.” He walked to the door. “‘Night all.”
Kyle looked at Steve and Gloria, and suddenly he felt sadder than he’d felt in years. He didn’t want to be in the room but couldn’t think of a quick exit strategy. He didn’t want to look at Gloria’s face but felt compelled to do so—not to look would be ruder. Her eyes