Linda says, “You’re totally right. They do, they’re all fucked.”
I sit in silence. I’m surprised Linda would agree. It astounds me into silence.
Chris says, “They don’t think like men. They aren’t logical.”
Linda says, “No, we aren’t. You’re totally right.”
I can’t stand these conversations.
Chris says, “They deceive you. Women fucking deceive you into thinking things that aren’t true. Then they give you the stab to the heart.”
Linda says, “That’s true. Women are liars.”
I finally have to interject and say, “Men deceive too.”
Chris says, “No, it’s different. Men still think with logic.”
I say, “Deceiving is our world. Our world is full of deception. We learn it when we are little, we learn it at work, we learn it at school.”
They ignore me and keep talking.
I was interrupting their lies.
I walk back to the dish-tank and wash dishes.
I realize it now.
Fuck, this is horrible.
This deception.
This is all deception.
I’m standing here
pretending
I’m a dishwasher.
I’m deceiving the manager into believing I’m a dishwasher.
And I’m deceiving myself make-believing I’m a dishwasher.
The cooks are over there playing at being cooks.
They aren’t cooks. They are only playing at being cooks.
None of us care about this steakhouse.
I have no interest in the dishes I wash and they have no interest in the food they make.
And this is how it is all over the modern world.
People build bridges they have no interest in.
People work at plants making little plastic parts they have no interest in.
People work in offices reading spreadsheets they have no interest in.
It is all pretend.
We show up to work and try to deceive the managers we want to be there.
And they reward us for being good deceivers with raises.
The owners deceive us by giving us money and convincing us we should
care
about the product they want produced.
And we deceive the owners by
pretending
we care about their product.
And the owners deceive the stockholders make-believing that they actually care about owning a chain of steakhouses.
Everyone deceiving everyone else for money to buy food and shelter.
And there’s advertising, which deceives us into thinking that we need a certain brand of soap, a certain brand of cellphone, a certain brand of shoe, a certain brand of car, etc.
A massive game of deception!
And it is all transparent, right out there in the open.
These lies are so simple to detect we can’t even see them.
They aren’t lies like, lying about where you were last night, or how much you make, or that you weren’t at a certain location when a murder took place.
These lies are right there, out in the open.
But we can’t see them.
Because our parents were made of these lies.
And being our parents, they ingrained these lies in us.
And these lies make us.
We are these lies.
These lies engulf us to such an extent that our very identities are made, structured of these lies.
And then it hits me.
This mass deception we carry out every day has leaked into our romantic relationships.
And we learn when we are little that only through deception can we get the things we want.
It isn’t work. It’s deception.
Games must be played.
No wonder we can’t see it.
We are it.
Fuck!
Shit!
This is terrifying.
That means that the modern world is like a dream.
That everyone floats around living in a dreamland full of lies and deception.
No, it’s not a dream.
It’s a fucking nightmare.
And I just woke up.
Tony, a cook who is always stoned, says to me, “They fired Larry.”
“For what,” I say.
“He stole shrimp.”
“How much did he steal?”
“I guess the fucker took a whole box.”
“That poor bastard.”
“Dude, he was useless.”
“No, he wasn’t that bad.”
“Dude, come on. He always fucked up your dish-tank and left a goddamn mess for us to clean up. Remember that night he got black shit all over the floor and left without cleaning it? And you had to stay to clean it after everyone left.”
“Yeah, but he wasn’t that bad.”
“He got back on the pipe,” Tony says.
“I figured that. He told me his mom kicked him out because he didn’t have any money.”
“That motherfucker wasn’t kicked out. He went to some dude’s house and they live there smoking crack together.”
Then it pops into my head. This is my last day. “Well, that’s the life of a crackhead,” I say.
“They always get back on the pipe.”
“They sure do.”
It isn’t very busy.
There are no dishes to wash.
I stand here looking around the kitchen.
The cooks are making food.
A hostess is standing by the soda fountain drinking from a paper cup.
The manager is standing by the window checking the food.
I’m doing nothing.
Time is passing.
The objects come into focus.
There is a lot of metal in the kitchen.
I wonder where all this metal comes from.
The kitchen smells like garbage and cooked beef.
No one is saying anything.
There isn’t silence though.
The dishwasher makes noise.
The hoods above the grill make noise.
The fryers make noise.
I want to go home and lie down.
Life would be better right now if I was lying down.
Instead, I’m standing in the kitchen at work.
A kitchen.
What the fuck?
At the end of the night, Gina is standing on the back-line.
There is no one else back there.
She is filling her salt and pepper shakers.
I need to confess my love for her.
This is really dramatic.
I get some salad plates and carry them to the cooler on the back-line.
Gina is standing four feet from me.
I bring the salad plates into the cooler and drop them off.
Walk back out.
Gina is standing there.
I lean against a metal table and say, “Gina.”
Gina doesn’t look up and says, “Vasily?”
“Hmm, I want to tell you something.”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“I’m going out west tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah, that sounds nice.”
“Yeah, and I’m quitting. And I wanted to tell you something.”
She looks nervous.
“I wanted to tell you I have a crush on you, that I’ve had a crush on you since the first time I met you.”
Gina stands there for a minute and says, “I know.”
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“How did you know?”
“You always do things for me and compliment me all the time.”
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah. I gotta go finish my work though.”
I look down at my shoes and Gina walks away.
BOOK 2