FAÇADE, 6
“See, Mike, that’s where you’re wrong.” He leans back on the bench and stares at the shapeless clouds. “These people are happy. They aren’t playing face. They are listening to each other. There’s love. There’s friendship.”
“There’s a lot of bullshit,” I counter. “Nothing about these people reveals anything true and worth knowing.”
Ray turns his head towards me and replies, “People aren’t going to project their flaws, you know. Of course they’re gonna flaunt whatever makes them happy. What makes them feel significant.”
The redheaded jogger nears the bench, her body glistening under a layer of sweat. She wipes away the grease from her face and adjusts her headphones at the bench next to us.
“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Ray asks.
“And say what?” I ask him back. I can’t imagine having anything in common with such a stunning woman. “What, talk about the weather? What’s my plan? Besides, you’re the one who thinks I’m a womanizer.”
“I dunno,” Ray says. “Just talk about exercise or something. Tell her you always see her jogging around here and wanted to say hello to a somewhat familiar face.”
“Step one, according to you, is lie. Step two is – what – approach her like a creep?”
“No, it’s called breaking the ice.”
“And then what?” I ask. “How do I introduce myself? How can I maintain conversation with her?”
“Just . . .”
“There’s a lot of bullshit,” I counter. “Nothing about these people reveals anything true and worth knowing.”
Ray turns his head towards me and replies, “People aren’t going to project their flaws, you know. Of course they’re gonna flaunt whatever makes them happy. What makes them feel significant.”
The redheaded jogger nears the bench, her body glistening under a layer of sweat. She wipes away the grease from her face and adjusts her headphones at the bench next to us.
“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Ray asks.
“And say what?” I ask him back. I can’t imagine having anything in common with such a stunning woman. “What, talk about the weather? What’s my plan? Besides, you’re the one who thinks I’m a womanizer.”
“I dunno,” Ray says. “Just talk about exercise or something. Tell her you always see her jogging around here and wanted to say hello to a somewhat familiar face.”
“Step one, according to you, is lie. Step two is – what – approach her like a creep?”
“No, it’s called breaking the ice.”
“And then what?” I ask. “How do I introduce myself? How can I maintain conversation with her?”
“Just . . .”
