Michael Holden's Deleted Scenes - Cheese Dealer

For reasons I still can’t fathom, I went to a ‘social media debate’ last week. Coming down from my lair, I imagined, like some mountain man to warn the townsfolk about the true cost of the new railroad. Instead, I was quickly baffled and upstaged by a coterie of young moderns, the brightest bright in surprising ways – the dumbest proportionally so. So I sat and listened and wondered if I was blotting out more than I was learning when I realised my true purpose here was to record what the people in the row behind me were saying amongst themselves in stage whispers while the main debate rolled on. Man #1: [monotonic, like this was no big deal] “There was a guy there in a kimono on New Year's Eve, he was moving so fast you couldn’t see his face.” Woman #1: [in a separate conversation she was having about her own entrepreneurial vision] “You’re guaranteed to meet at least 25 people. You got to go to five dinners and then host one of your own. I’ve sold my car. I quit my job to do this.” Man #2: [talking to Man #1] “I used to read Metro, but the way they describe a situation is just so… bad.” Man #1: [surprised at himself] “My tongue’s raw from coughing.” Woman #1: “And I went from there to a really intense meeting in Monaco.” Man #2: “My last two girlfriends were vegetarians.” Man #1: “Well at least you know you have a type.” Dizzy with modernity, I went outside for a smoke. A man came up to me and asked me for a cigarette. I gave him one and he began offering drugs. Man #3: “Want some coke?” Me: “No.” Man #3: “MDMA?” Me: “No.” Man #3: “Cheese?” Me: “No.” I’m pretty sure he said cheese. In retrospect he might have said “E's”, but if that night had taught me anything it was that I was a lot further out of the loop than I'd imagined. No affected level of affinity with contemporary narcotic slang was going to change that.

Previously: Michael Holden's Deleted Scenes - Pram War

@thewrongwriter