APHC: Saturday, May 10, 1997

Lunchtime
Saturday, May 10, 1997
Listen

GK:
This is my lunchtime, my hour of lunchtime
It makes me happy every day
I eat alone in the cafeteria
With a paper in front of my face.

A grilled cheese sandwich, a bowl of chili,
Saltine crackers, an iced tea.
I check the front page, I work the crossword,
And I hope no one --

(FOOTSTEPS)

TR: Hi.

GK: Hi.

TR: This seat taken?

GK: Which seat?

TR: Where your coat is.

GK: No.

TR: Good.

GK: I'm not depressed, and I don't need company,
I get along just fine on my own
If you came over from a sense of pity,
I prefer to be left alone.

TR: Quite a meeting this morning.

GK: Yes.

TR: Did you understand what he was talking about? By horizontal decision-making?

GK: Well -- sort of --

TR: I don't get that stuff, do you? Contextualizing team goals? Restructuring the infradata? Where does he get that?

GK: I don't know.

TR: But what do you make of it? You think they're going to eliminate the whole fricative section?

GK: I doubt it.

TR: I don't know. I get this funny feeling. Just the mood around here. People seem so distant. They don't look you in the eye. Like they know something.

GK:

I spend the morning in endless meetings
With people full of things to say,
I love this hour of peace and quiet
Please don't take my lunchtime away.

TR: Interesting story in the paper today. About American lunch habits.

GK: Yes, I was just about to read it.

TR: Says that lunch is a disappearing institution. Says more and more people just eat at their desks.

GK: Interesting.

TR: Yeah. People used to go to restaurants, now they go get a sandwich -- bring it back to the desk -- sit and work. I don't know. Doesn't seem right to me.

GK: No?

TR: No.

GK: Really?

TR: I say: You gotta reach out -- connect with people -- try to make a difference. That's what I say.

GK: Have a story? Please don't share it. Please don't say you don't feel well And when it comes to the state of your marriage, I didn't ask so please don't tell.

TR: My wife and I are thinking of separating.

GK: Oh really?

TR: Yeah, she told me last night she thought we needed some time apart. Said she felt dominated by me. Dominated! I could not believe it. What is that supposed to mean?

GK: Well, maybe it's a good idea.

TR: Separation?

GK: Yeah.

TR: No. It's avoidance, is what it is. It's turning your back on problems. Separate! What if everytime someone got a little tired of you they got up and walked away? Huh? Separate! No way. The way you work out interpersonal difficulties is dialogue. You confront, you communicate, you conciliate, you commune. Confront, communicate, conciliate, commune. That's the key.

GK:Maybe what you should do is poison her. (PAUSE)

TR: What did you say?

GK: Poison her. They have drugs now, you can't trace them in the body. Put it in her yoghurt. Your wife eat yoghurt?

TR: Yes, but --

GK: Yoghurt coveres up the taste of poison.

TR: You're kidding, right?

GK: Or put it in her bran flakes. Bran covers the taste of poison too.

TR: What are you saying?

GK: Bran tastes exactly like most poisons. You eat bran, you're wide open for poison.

TR: You can't be serious.

GK: Only problem is disposing of the body. Have you ever used a woodchipper?

TR: You're serious.

GK: I'm getting phone calls, and tons of e-mail.
And endless memos from 8 to 12.
And now it's lunchtime, I have one hour,
I'd like to spend it all by myself.

GK: You can rent a woodchipper at any big hardware store.

TR: You're sick.

GK: But first you've got to get your wife to write a note saying she's going away for awhile --

TR: You're really sick.

GK: If you can get her code for going online, you can send it as e-mail.

TR: I'm getting out of here.

GK: Have it say that she feels the need to be alone for a few weeks. And she feels despondent.

TR: You need help. Goodbye.

GK: This is my lunchtime, my hour of lunchtime, It makes me happy when skies are gray. I eat my sandwich, I read my paper Please don't take my lunchtime away.