Editor’s Note
The following is a transcription from a micro-cassette recorder recovered from the trunk of an abandoned car found on the desert outskirts of Palm Springs, California. Recording: Circa 2007.
— Tape begins —
[Several clicks. Recording starts. Stops. Starts again.]
[Car door shuts.]
[Footsteps in gravel.]
[Footsteps now on concrete.]
[Traffic passing. Water from splashing puddles.]
[Water hits the recorder.]
BOXCAR (muffled)
Fuck.
[Fabric rubbing against plastic. Water being wiped off.]
— Tape cuts —
— Recording resumes —
[Distant doors opening and closing. With each door opening, sounds from the outside street are heard.]
[Sounds of nightclub activity echo off concrete walls.]
[Muffled music playing.]
[Voices. Glassware. Plates. Footsteps.]
WAITPERSON
Hey, Boxcar.
BOXCAR
Hey.
WAITPERSON
No Mrs. Car tonight?
BOXCAR
Just me.
[Chair scrapes. Zipper. A notebook lands on table.]
[Elastic snap. Pages turning.]
[Tables fill nearby with comics. Laughter. Crosstalk.]
COMIC 1
Carl says only one guest spot tonight. Gomez doesn’t even have an hour.
COMIC 2
Maybe a solid 40, if that. A pissy crowd anyway. I hate Thursdays.
[Footsteps approach.]
CARL (off mic at nearby tables)
[Inaudible]
COMIC 2
What the fuck? Whatever, Carl. I’m heading to Giggles. Coming?
COMIC 1
Nah. Gonna stick around.
[Footsteps closer.]
CARL
Ten minutes, Box. Right after the open. Look for the light.
BOXCAR
Thanks, Carl.
CARL
The light. Remember.
BOXCAR
I always see the light, Carl.
[Footsteps retreat.]
CARL (voice trailing)
Yeah. I know you see it…
[Recorder shifts.]
— Tape cuts —
— Recording resumes —
[Sudden amplification. Mic feedback.]
[Full-throated laughter.]
BOXCAR (louder, talking over crowd)
Easy, now. I am recording this, and it’s hard for me to study my set when there is all this laughter.
[More laughter.]
BOXCAR
Ssshhh…
[Laughter fades. Room falls silent.]
— Tape cuts —
— Recording resumes —
BOXCAR
You know him. One of those guys fobbing off meanness as candor.
BOXCAR (Mimicking a cartoonish scholarly affectation)
I am just being honest…
[Pause.]
BOXCAR (exaggerating affectation)
I’m being real here…everyone knows…
[Laughter of recognition.]
BOXCAR
You ain’t fooling anyone. If you are about to start a sentence with “I am just being real…”
BOXCAR (spoken deliberately)
Leave me out of it.
[Silence.]
BOXCAR
I’m just being honest.
[A few laughs and claps heard.]
— Tape cuts —
— Recording resumes —
[Laughter loud then fading.]
BOXCAR
When did you all get here?
[A few laughs.]
BOXCAR
You people have been here the whole time? Really!? Fuck me. I had no idea I was being watched. (pause) I never do.
[Pause.]
BOXCAR
This isn’t a performance.
[Murmurs.]
— Tape cuts —
— Recording resumes —
BOXCAR (to audience member)
You never even considered that, did you?
[Pause.]
BOXCAR (back to audience)
That guy did. He knows the score. Now I know who to go to after the show if I want to get away from all you people.
[Scattering of laughter.]
[Crowd cross-talk and unease.]
BOXCAR
I have to make something clear. You folks don’t really know why you came out here tonight.
[Crowd chatter comes to an end.]
BOXCAR
You think you do, but you don’t.
[Voice from the crowd.]
VOICE (loudly)
I came to see some comedy!
[Few laughs and applause from the audience in support of heckler.]
BOXCAR
Oh, I know. I get it. The comedy portion of the evening begins shortly.
[Cross-talk and murmurs]
BOXCAR
I have an advantage over the other comics you’ll see tonight.
[Pause as Boxcar remains quiet.]
[The voices in the crowd have all stopped.]
BOXCAR (slowly)
I don’t need you.
[Silence.]
[A few scattered laughs.]
— End of Tape —
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