stumble fumble toil jumble

a man enters a room. he is drunk.

man : i think i live here. lived here. hello? hello? is anyone here? no? good. i lived here.

he leans hard on the wall.

man : oh. god. it smells like cat urine. i might.

he puts his hand over his mouth. he breathes deeply. takes it away.

man : ok. ok. ok. here. i was age twenty five to twenty two. no. twenty three to twenty six. it's been a long, long time. i tell people that my early and mid twenties were the happiest days of my life. i think i'm telling the truth because when i'm drunk and at home i think of this place. that i habit- cohabitated when i was younger. the empty space can't tell you, but i can tell you. lots of memories. lots of them. when i was twenty two i took this girl i met at work here and .. well i'm sure you can guess. it was bad. she wasn't very good or just not into it. maybe i was too big.

pause.

man : i've lost weight since then.

pause.

man : oh god.

he puts his hand over his mouth again.

man : why do all my stories happen to be about being drunk.. if i didn't know any better, i might think the walls here are curved, or arced.

pause.

man : ok. ok. i'm ok. this is where i put together my first piece of exercise equipment. it was one that has leg lift parts and butterfly parts and shoulder press parts. it took a whole day. me and ryan. my friend ryan. randy. rick. jim. it was jim. one of the best times in my life.

pause. he reflects.

man : i used to come home late almost every night. after nights of drinking and drinking and wings! i used to get through the hallways without even touching the wall. i was that good.

pause.

man : we had a dog too. i think he ran away. or something.

pause.

man : watch! watch! i can do this with out seeing.

he closes his eyes. the lights go down. he runs into walls in the dark shouting words like bathroom or living room.