Painless Endings: An Autumn Stroll

Step 1, to be executed alone, slightly underdressed, outdoors on a Tuesday night in October in a place where you can hear a bit of rustling:

"My name is Vivacious, and let the earth crunch beneath me as I spin, spin, spin, spin, spin! Let the old, old, man and his absent wife look down indulgently, amused at my belief that they should feel fear ripple through their vaporous bodies. Let me cause a tornado in Tivoli, a deluge in Disneyworld! Let thousands of kittens pounce on their siblings and ten times as many old dogs have exciting dreams as I spin, spin, spin, spin, spin!"

Step 2, to take place in Café Amadeus in Ann Arbor, over two cups of French Roast served on china saucers, while two book-club members at the next table discuss their drum-making classes and their portfolios, as the opening door allows a brisk breeze to infiltrate, and Book One of the Well-Tempered Clavier plays on a harpsichord:

The gentleman is wearing a black suit, two-piece, yellow shirt, black tie with yellow stripes and a gold tie-tack. His cufflinks are round opals, a little too large to be tasteful. The lady wears a vintage red dress, real pearl necklace from her sixteenth birthday. The table is barely big enough for both of them. Neither perceives the other, for they exist in two different times and places. The gentleman is in Boston in 1989; the lady is in Calais in 1938.

"My friends are dull and pedestrian."
      "My fiancée doesn't understand me."
"I hate my mother."
      "I hate my father."
"I never thought I would wind up this way."
      "I've become everything I've hated."
"I am being suffocated."
      "I'm trapped."
"I act gay to gain admiration from people whose opinions I loathe."
      "I act gay because that is my role."
"Nobody understands me."
      "How did I wind up here?"
"I'm so lonely."
      "My god, I'm so lonely."

Step 3, to be performed with a backing chorus composed of celebrities who were at their most popular before you were born, but were still well-known when you were growing up, whose faces you recognize but whose names you can't remember. You are right at the front of the stage; two steps forward and you fall off. Everything is dark except for a spotlight, you are wearing rhinestones and makeup, the audience has turned off their cell-phones, pagers, and watch-alarms. This one's all about you, kiddo:

Spoken:
I took an old notebook, and a fountain pen black. I wrote in a list what society lacked. I fancied a future: respect wealth and fame. In a roomful of poseurs who were doing. the. same.

Sung (with a bit of an echo effect):
But let me be pompous, for just one more time
Let me speak in clichés, and make contrived rhymes
Let me write "misery" meaning middle-class sad
Let me mock those who work and cash checks from my Dad

The chorus tries to go "ahhhhhhhh" in the background but gives up halfway through:
The dance, that we saw, was symbolic and deep.
My friends, were enthused, and not one fell asleep.
We stay, out 'till one, which is when the bars close.
My V, CR's set, to tape all of my shows.

But let me be pompous, let me think I'm unique
That the people on TV will want me to speak
Let me think I'll be special to those who have taste
Let me pretend it has not been a waste.

If you want to, ignite your clothes at this point and burn to death in front of everyone, so they can all feel sad at your funeral, and then discover your notebooks and realize how talented you were, and make a play about your life and your mom gathers all of your creative output together and gives it to your special person who lovingly edits it all together and there is a wonderful review in the New York Times magazine, if only you were alive to see it, say all your friends. If only.

Step 4, to occur in the same location, only there isn't an audience or backup singers, and the regular lights are on. There are four cots, each one supporting a different person lying on his or her back. They are arranged like a plus sign, so all four heads are close together. One of the people is a 19 year old woman with very dyed cherry-pie hair, braids, and Hello-Kitty socks. One of the people is invisible: brand new jeans and a new T-shirt with the latest popular commercial tag-line on it look like they are floating in space. Nobody cares who the other two people are:

"So while we were walking around the lot, looking for our car, I told my wife that she would fuck anyone with a British Accent, and she told me bullshit, and I swear to god just then we turn the corner and there's this homeless guy right out of Dickens saying, 'spare me a trifle for a cuppa tea, there gov'nor' taking off his hat for us to throw a coin in."

"How serendipitous"

"Tell me about it. So she opens her purse and gets a dollar bill, leans forward, and before you know it she's going down on the guy, and he's completely shocked, then she lifts her skirt and is squatting pumping up and down like a sweaty machine part. He's going 'Oh Blimey! Oh Blimey!' and I'm surprised and repulsed and all, but also feeling a little bit pleased that I've been so dramatically proven right."

"Did you say, 'I told you so' afterwards?"

"Darn right I did. Darn right."

Step 5, to watch without participation, on the Big Screen:

LEAD GORGEOUS ACTOR: Stay here; I'm going in.
LEAD CHARACTER ACTOR: Don't be stupid, man, you'll never make it.
LEAD GORGEOUS ACTOR: We'll see about that.
LEAD CHARACTER ACTOR: Then I'm coming with you.
LEAD GORGEOUS ACTOR: Right. Let's do it.
[Cut to LEAD GORGEOUS ACTRESS in peril. She is scared. She sees the impending danger. Her eyes flick to the LEAD GORGEOUS ACTOR and the LEAD CHARACTER ACTOR, and then wisely return to the imminent doom. The LEAD GORGEOUS ACTOR and the LEAD CHARACTER ACTOR sneak behind a packing crate and crouch. The villainous SUPPORTING CHARACTER ACTOR demonstrates how imminent the doom is by touching her throat with the point of his carving knife. Suddenly she sees you. The villainous SUPPORTING CHARACTER ACTOR follows her gaze and sees you, too. In the background, the LEAD GORGEOUS ACTOR and the LEAD CHARACTER ACTOR, notice you as well]
ALL FOUR IN UNISON: Fuck you.
[The credits roll. You don't have to stay for them]

Step 6, which you don't have to stay for:

Conceived, written, and directed by:	A more creative fellow than many of his friends, but one would still rather have dinner with Robert De Niro or David Mamet.
Based on a phrase and three words by:	One of the more interesting women I met on the internet, but I would still wind up choosing Arianna Huffington or Heather Graham (if my friends could witness it).
Location:	The newish coffee house, where the old one used to be
Music:	Some alternative rock, and then some classical guitar
Coffee:	Large, house blend, $1.25 + 0.75 tip
Avoiding:	Writing introductory material for the AP book
Mood:	Depressed with occasional self satisfaction, some absorption at the end, and guilt during the credits
Pretentiousness Level:	Look at what you are reading!
Cast:
Vivacious:	Mental picture of an internet friend, mixed in with Catherine La Rouche from a never-to-be-published novel, and an amalgam of images and stereotypes based on too many UTNE reader experiences
Gentleman:	The author if things had Worked Out
Lady:	Flapper stereotype based on a Twilight Zone episode, a Grant Morrison comic, clips from a few newsreels, and a sexual fantasy that never got to the masturbation level.
Chorus:	Paul Lynde, Charles Nelson Riley, Jimmy Durante, Milton Berle, Orson Welles, and Jack Benny didn't make it, because I can remember all of their names. But many members of the chorus have undoubtedly appeared on the Tonight Show with them.
You:	You
Your Mom:	Your mother or the female who was closest to filling that role when you were growing up.
Special Person:	Probably your ex boyfriend or girlfriend, maybe your best friend, maybe an older sibling
Nineteen Year Old:	Same hair-dye that Laurel used that one year when my hair was purple, same Hello Kitty that my friend Sarah likes, but otherwise unidentified.
Invisible man:	CGI effect. In real life, people can't be invisible because all matter absorbs some light.
Lead Gorgeous Actor:	Widely known as an incredibly nice guy, not at all phony or pretentious. Often on the cover of People magazine, and his movies all do very well.
Lead Character Actor:	You smile and say, "Look, it's HIM!" when you are watching a trailer and see him handing the Hero an important package.
Lead Gorgeous Actress:	She just got divorced but is facing this life-challenge with her characteristic style and pluck.
Supporting Character Actor:	Has better sex than you ever will, has more fun than you ever will, and would find you boring. If you met him at a party, and had a fifteen minute conversation, your friends would be envious and ask you what he is really like. He would not mention you to his friends.

No people or animals were harmed during this production, and the author both wishes he didn't have the power to harm them, and is sad that he doesn't have the power to harm millions of them at once, although he never would use that power. Throw away your popcorn on the way out; nobody wants to pick up after you.

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