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A drink with Vicky

Ricky: “Well I’ll be damned, it’s Vicky G. Vicky. How are you?”

Vicky: “Hmm….”

Ricky: “Vicky? It’s been what, at least a year, maybe two?”

Vicky: “Hmmmm….”

Ricky: “The Tango Club, right? Heck of a night. Hey, can I get you the next one?”

Vicky: “Huh?”

Ricky: “Next one, next drink.”

Vicky: “Hmmm….”

Ricky: “It’s kinda neat seeing you again.”

Vicky: “Not really.”

Ricky: “What?”

Vicky: “I said ‘No, not really’.”

Ricky: “You said what? Not really what?”

Vicky: “Not really neat seeing you again, Ricky.”

Ricky: “I’m confused. Why not?”

Vicky: “’Cause I’m not talking to you.”

Ricky: “Hello?”

Vicky: “I don’t talk to you.”

Ricky: “Well, obviously that’s not true.”

Vicky: “Hmmm….”

Ricky: “You don’t talk to me?”

Vicky: “Nope, not since then I don’t.”

Ricky: “Not since when? What when? And why?”

Vicky: “That night, Tango Club.”

Ricky: “Yeah, okay, Tango.”

Vicky: “Right. Tango.”

Ricky: “But why?”

Vicky: “You don’t remember?”

Ricky: “I do not. I am confused.”

Vicky: “I’m not.”

Ricky: “What happened?”

Vicky: “You don’t remember, do you?”

Ricky: “No, I don’t.”

Vicky: “Hmm…. Well, I don’t talk to you anymore. Not since then.”

Ricky: “Vicky?”

Vicky: “Yes?”

Ricky: “I’m thinkin’ I, like maybe blew it that evening? Like I maybe pissed you off?”

Vicky: “You did.”

Ricky: “If you tell me what I did it might help.”

Vicky: “You don’t remember?”

Ricky: “No, I don’t. We have established that.”

Vicky: “I can’t believe it.”

Ricky: “But I don’t. I just don’t.”

Vicky: “Forget it then.”

Ricky: “Forget? How can I forget what I don’t remember?”

Vicky: “Hmmm….”

Ricky: “Listen, if I hurt you …..”

Vicky: “Hmmmm.…”

Ricky: “Oh, fuck this. Do you want an apology?”

Vicky: “No.”

Ricky: “Why not?”

Vicky: “Because it won’t be one.”

Ricky: “Why not?”

Vicky: “Because you don’t know what you’d be apologizing for. It won’t count.”

Ricky: “Well then, what do you want me to do?”

Vicky: “Forget it.”

Ricky: “Okay, forgotten, not remembered. Same shit. You want a drink?”

Vicky: “No. Not from you. I don’t talk to you.”

Ricky: “Vicky.”

Vicky: “What?”

Ricky: “You don’t remember either, do you.”

Vicky: “Hmmmm….”

Ricky: “Do you?”

Vicky: “No.”

Ricky: “Why …”

Vicky: “Why I’m not talking to you?”

Ricky: “Yeah, and what I did.”

Vicky: “Right. What …”

Ricky: “And why you’re not talking to me.”

Vicky: “Yeah. I don’t know. I just remember I’m really, really pissed at you.”

Ricky: “For like, what, two years?”

Vicky: “Yes.”

Ricky: “But you don’t know why.”

Vicky: “Nope. But it still hurts.”

Ricky: “Kind of off-pissing, isn’t it?”

Vicky: “What? You?”

Ricky: “No, not me. Not remembering.”

Vicky: “Yeah.”

Ricky: “Are you talking to me?”

Vicky: “Obviously.”

Ricky: “Dinner?”

Vicky: “Sure, let’s go. But don’t let it happen again.”



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