Sam Pink: The Self-Esteem Holocaust Comes Home

OLD MAN IN VELCRO SHOES: [still looking through windshield] When I got on the bus, I watched my footprints in the snow, behind me, connecting the doorway of my apartment with the steps of this bus. They got smaller and smaller — and now I can’t see them. That means they are gone. My apartment building is behind me. I can’t see my footprints in the snow. They’re gone [taps foot in runoff in aisle] I can’t tell if I miss them. Not yet.

BUS DRIVER: [biting thumbnail] Good story [pulls to a slow stop at a streetlight] Check it out.

The bus driver holds the front of his sweatshirt out flat. There is a cartoon cat on the front. Its arms are folded and beneath it are the words, “Not Impressed.”

BUS DRIVER: Man, this cat is pissed, am I right? [smiles and looks back and forth between the old man’s mouth and eyes] What do you think? Pissed or no?

OLD MAN IN VELCRO SHOES: [watching the fire through the windshield] Yeah, I think it is, I think you’re right.

BUS DRIVER: [looks at sweatshirt, chin down] You bet it is. I mean look how it has its arms folded [points] Plus it has its tongue out, see that? Totally pissed.

OLD MAN IN VELCRO SHOES: I see that [pointing] The light’s green.

The bus pulls off. A middle-aged man gets on at a stop and sits up front. At another stoplight, the bus driver attempts to show the middle-aged man the pissed-off cat but the middle-aged man cuts him off and points to the green light. And the bus driver pulls the bus over, idles. He touches his face with his hands. He cries and everyone on the bus looks at the fire that is black, red, and white static. They are closer now, idling. When someone in the back yells about “getting going,” the bus driver slowly lifts his head, turns and stares blankly at the rest of the bus, face raw with tears. Then he pulls out onto the street again. The bus continues on towards the giant fire that is black, red, and white static.

[Later on.]

BUS DRIVER: [to no one in particular] I just realized, like yesterday, that all I do is drive around the edge of the town. That’s it. I never leave. Never. Sometimes I think about coming up with something, some kind of reason to leave. Like I’ll say, maybe I need to go to that miniature golf place, the one across the bridge [clears throat] but I don’t. I never actually have to go miniature golfing [clears throat again] I just want to sleep in my closet but I have to come do this every day. I never leave [pauses] Today, we are going to leave.

There is no talking for a while. The bus creaks.

SOMEONE IN THE BACK: [for everyone to hear] All the disciples are inferior retard life.

At the next stop someone gets up and descends the stairs.

BUS DRIVER: [to the person] Hey wait.

Person turns.

BUS DRIVER: Name something you did that you think was great.

PERSON: Uh [thinks for a moment] I actually flushed my toilet this morning after shitting in it. And I saw all the disciples.

BUS DRIVER: The disciples are all inferior retard life.

PERSON: Yeah I made them gone.

BUS DRIVER: So you thought that was great?

PERSON: Yes and everything else about me too [nodding] Pretty much everything.

BUS DRIVER: [pulls his sweatshirt flat, then loudly] Not impressed.

PERSON: Ok. Bye. I will never see you again.

BUS DRIVER: No. You won’t [turns to windshield again] Not impressed. Bye.

The person leaves. Other people sit in the back and on the sides of the bus. One of them is taking out a cellular phone.

PERSON WITH PHONE: [to the woman next to him] No I’m telling you. I know other people [holds phone out] Here, listen [plays message]

THE MESSAGE: [female voice] Heyyyeee [pause] Just calling to see what’s up [pause] ouch — hit my toe [breathing] How’s everything? I have work until eight. Oh man, yeah, there’s this guy at the pet store here — he looks like, hmmm [static-cracking of phone adjustment] he looks like Abe Lincoln or some shit [pause] Uh so, call me when you get a chance. I wanted to see what you’re doing tonight. Maybe you want to hang out [pause] Huh, looks like Abe Lincoln Guy wants a goldfish. He should buy at least two if he’s going to do it so they’re not lonely. Sometimes people tell me the fish just stop eating when they’re alone. Just, ploop, dead [pause] ploop. It takes a goldfish a long time to die for some reason. Ploop. There were some here that just floated sideways for days and days. Ploop. Come on Abe Lincoln Guy, you know you want two — no, don’t put your hand in the tank, ewww his hands are really hairy — God, the hairs are like, floating. I’m fucking bored, oh shit, who’m I talking to? [pause] Oh yeah, hey, call me whenever you get a chance [long exhalation] on my lunchbreak today I tried disappearing beneath a big piece of broken blacktop in the parking lot but I only managed to get part of my head underneath and the rest of the time I spent digging up little pieces of the grass out front of the store and burying my phone or blaming the ripped-up grass on birds, as customers walked in. Ploop. I looked up at the sky like I know I lost something there but I couldn’t remember what to look for. I was jealous that I lost it and it didn’t lose me. The sky looks like a wonderful place and I am high on being away from you. Don’t call me. Ploop. My apartment will be quiet when I get home. Ploop. Today I’ll get tired. Every human has getting tired in common. There. I feel so compassionate. I’ll go to my room and lay on my bed. And I won’t be upset. Don’t call me. I could understand a god that created me and now doesn’t like me, and maybe hates me. And creates other things that hate me too. And for me to hate. I can see making a mistake too. Ploop—

The message cuts her off while she is still talking. The bus moves towards the giant fire that is black, red, and white static. The bus becomes warm.

[Later.]

A small child and his mother sit together in the back. Near them sits a 20-year-old man. The small child is playing a video game. He looks up for a second then back at the game.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: [to the child] Hey.

The child doesn’t respond. And the mother isn’t paying attention either. She’s staring at the fire, her face calm.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: What are you playing?

CHILD: [eyes down] Mario.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: Nice.

CHILD: [looks up quickly] Yeah, I’m trying to get past the third world.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: [puts arms over back of seat, crosses legs] Oh yeah?

CHILD: Yeah. It’s hard — [licks some snot from top lip] I need more points.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: [looks at fire then back at the child] Why do you need points?

The child shrugs his shoulders.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: What do you mean? [mimics shrugging]

CHILD: I need points to get another life.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: Why do you want another life?

CHILD: [shrugs again] To beat the world.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: For what?

CHILD: For more points.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: Why?

Pause.

CHILD: For another life.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: So if you died right now? [folds hands on lap] You wouldn’t have that extra life, would you? [looks at fire]

CHILD: Nope [accidentally kicks man’s shin] Sorry.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: That’s fine. So, you wouldn’t get the life and you wouldn’t beat the world?

CHILD: [tongue on upper-lip again] Nope.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: And then no points.

CHILD: Yup.

20 YEAR-OLD MAN: That sounds pointless [quickly] But good luck.

The 20-year-old man turns and stares through his window. The phrase “now what” repeats in his mind. On someone’s front lawn he sees a snowman — half-melted with a crow on its head. The snowman looks unhappy. It is going to die soon. Another set of roads opens up. Over and over. They are getting closer to the fire.