Girls’ School
Girls’ School
By John Curran
Hi, I’m Joe, the landscape gardener for this wealthy fat cat Washington, DC so-called power player and we are here on his beautiful estate out here in the Hamptons where he is fixing to have an evening get together for some other fat cats so called power players and their wives or servants in tow. And even though I do do house functions as well as tending to the grounds, Mr. C. has decreed that I make myself scarce for this particular gathering.
You see I am not one of those. I am just a regular ‘ol middle aged black guy from originally the deep south, Podunk, Alabama; and I know how to make myself scarce up here in the Hamptons, going invisible in million dollar shrubbery as the sun is going down over the million dollar horizon and the limousines are pulling up. I slip through the cracks, just a black man, they know what that’s all about, I guess. So, just Joe the gardener, making himself scarce. ‘An it just so happens my favorite hideaway is this cool little grotto type arrangement right outside of and underneath the dining room where the big cat gathering was gonna happen.
I tucked in there, I could hear everything, and I must say these white people just never come with a dull moment, its always entertaining. I sat right back down back up against the wall, last beams of sunlight streaming in on me, all warm and comfy, and took it all in ‘an most interesting it was, the proceedings. Early on I’d kinda’ thought this was gonna be like some big important kind of thing where the actual fate of the entire planet was gonna sorta depend on the state of these very important people’s digestion.
But no, seems otherwise, seems it was more like gonna be a party, with this comedian even, this guy, I’d heard his name, Mr. C. talking ’bout this guy, like serious. But no again, now it’s like this guy is actually the comedian, Hegseth his name I think, Pedro, ‘cept he prefers Pete, says no Pedro for Pete. One of his jokes I guess.
Anyway, there I am in position as where I can hear them arriving. And there’s the usual low murmuring thing rising now a bit in volume as more and more of ‘m pile. And then one more louder voice among the rest, damn they ain’t all even got seated in there yet, and this one guy, already starting in with a veritable non stop one liners and zingers demolition. And so I figured this must be the comedian ‘n he can’t even wait to get started and he’s getting into this theme of demolition like the way a good comic can milk a depressing subject for laughs sometimes for laughs and it becomes like a kind of therapy, facing up like to the bogeyman.
And this guy at least was coming on with it good, he actually sounded a little drunk but damn sure wasn’t stopping him until someone yells out, like a heckler would do, saying, “So Pete, tell us about the girls’ school.” And then, right then, the Pete guy, the sorta comedian, well I could hear as his whole voice tone speaking thing had bouncy along so like suddenly became more like the hissing of some reptiles I have encountered as he says back to the heckler, “okay pal, I guess you were there huh, ’cause ya sound pretty girlish to me. Well, I’m sorry I missed ya, ha ha. And man, it got quiet in that room, and afterwards nobody was laughing much at all. White people, Lawd, I’m saying, I ain’t never gonna figure them out.
