You are not a waste of skin

Hey Slugger, how're you doing?

Slugger? Give me a fuckin' break.

I thought it might be a step up from "farmboy." Man, somebody's in a bad mood.

Fuck you!

Hey. hey man...

Fuck it, you can't do nothin', you know. I can't do nothin' right, anyway. I'm a waste of skin. Excuse me. (gets up, goes into the bathroom, a lighter is heard. Comes back after a few minutes.)

Marijuana?

The one and only.

What happened, farmboy?

(quietly) This is gonna sound stupid. You remember when I told you about the song and the contest? Well, I fuckin' worked and worked, man. I took the day off like you said, and I went through every bit of technology mistakes, man, they were like fuckin' red lights on the main drag, y'know? I was even crying at one point. And so I finally do it, then I go to enter it electronically, and I get a message that the deadline has passed.

I thought February 1st was the deadline.

Yeah, so did I.

Fuck.

Y'know. I know it's no big deal, but it was important to me.

I am such a loser.

You know you're not. You've got a right to feel bad. Man, you really care about your music.

I do. It's not just an ego thing. It's, like, my life.

I'm sorry about this.

Why? It's not your fault.

It's getting late for a weeknight, and you have to go to work tomorrow. I feel like I'm always telling you to get to bed, to get rest, to take care of yourself. So I won't tell you that.

Gee, thanks.

You okay?

(sighs) I still haven't accepted it. I'm kinda afraid of what will happen, 'cause I don't react well to things, and I don't want to be angry, 'cause I'm no good at anger, and...what if I start cryin'? I can't do that. I'm so afraid I'm going to lose control.

Over a songwriting contest? You know, you have a new song and you figured out how to record it...

I know, it's stupid. I'm so fuckin' sensitive.

You feel things really deeply. That can be hard on you.

No shit.

You do what you want, but I've got to get some sleep. Good night, farmboy.

Hey, I'm sorry about being such an asshole earlier.

Look...you're not a waste of skin.

I'm gonna start cryin', man, don't make me...

You're not a waste of fuckin' skin.

Prove it.

Stop that.

Stop what?

(Ignores comment) Be kind to yourself. Good night, pardner. (leaves)

See you tomorrow?