Reruns
Reruns
by David Michael
“I thought you broke up with Jessica,” Phil said. “Months ago.”
“I did,” Jim said, working his thumb on the “Channel Up” button of the remote.
They sat on opposite ends of the big couch in the living room of their shared apartment, both with their feet propped on the coffee table, both staring at the TV, Jim flipping through channels with the remote.
“So…,” Phil said, looking at Jim.
Jim didn’t pause in his rotation through the movie channels. “So what?”
“Are you getting back together with her?”
“No.” Jim snorted. He stopped on a channel to watch Bruce Willis bullshit a bullshitting Alan Rickman for the thousandth time. <click!> Oops! <click!> What? Do you think I’m stupid, Hans? ”Some movies never get old,” Jim said.
Phil followed Jim’s gaze to the TV. “Yeah. I love this movie.”
They watched in silence for a few minutes, until the action died down along with a few more would-be terrorists/robbers, then Jim resumed cycling through the channels.
“When you have to go?” Phil asked.
Jim flicked a look at the clock on the cable box. “I’ve got time yet.”
Phil nodded. Another couple minutes of silence. “So why you going out with Jessica?” he asked.
Jim shrugged. “Beats hanging out with you and Bill tonight.”
“We were going to see what’s at the buck movie,” Phil said. “Then maybe shoot some pool over at Magoo’s.”
“My point exactly,” Jim said.
“You’d rather relive old incompatibilities with ex-girlfriends?”
“The incompatibilities usually don’t show up in a single date,” Jim said. The TV screen continued its jumping rotation. “We catch a movie, get dinner, sometimes in reverse order, sometimes neither. Maybe we end up at her apartment, maybe we just make out in the car. However it goes, I’m happy.”
Phil turned from the TV to look at Jim again. “You went out with Jennifer last weekend, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. So?”
“And with Cindy, what, two weeks before that?”
Jim considered. “I think so, yeah.”
“And I seem to recall you going out with Shannon sometime in the last couple months.”
“Boy, was that a blast from the past. Still hard to believe I just ran into her like that.” After a few seconds, he asked, “Why? What’s your point?”
He paused the TV on a shot of Michael Dorn entering a room through a whooshing door to find he’s married to Marina Sirtis. “I remember this one,” he said before Phil could respond. “It’s one of my favorite episodes of the seventh season. Maybe the best episode that season.” I know Klingons like to be alone on their birthdays. You probably want to meditate or hit yourself with a pain stick or something. When the scene ended, Jim resumed cycling through the channels.
“How many ex-girlfriends do you have?” Phil asked.
Jim shrugged. Then said, “Eight. Why?”
“Nothing. Maybe you’re a genius. Maybe you’re just pathetic.”
Jim laughed. “Maybe both.” The images on the screen flickered, resolved, flickered, resolved, as he looked for something he recognized.
Copyright © 2006 by David Michael. All rights reserved.
Brandon said,
August 17, 2006 @ 11:45 am
I almost felt dumb when I got to the end and realized the connection. It was well woven into the story. Great job.
DavidRM said,
August 17, 2006 @ 12:04 pm
Hey, Brandon. Thanks!
Coincidentally, I just read your story on Flashing in the Gutters. Loved the stream-of-consciousness darkness in that one.
-David