Bathroom Monologue: Working Grandpa

“We damn sure can't show Grandpa any of our work. What would we show? He thinks TV is the Devil. My brother is a stand-up comedian who can't go three sentences without being offensive. What the fuck can we share?”

“Well, there's your sister.”

“She's unemployed. She's the last one who wants to talk about anything. All she does is search ads and call people who say 'No.' Grandpa does not need to hear about the economy shoving her soul in a trash compactor.”

“Okay. Conundrum.”

“And I'm thinking, what job could I get that he'd like?”

“You're going to get a second job to impress him? He's only going to be here for, like, a week.”

“I’m going damn sure make one up. If I can write a teleplay, I fucking sure can make up talk about a fictional job.”

“This is how ulcers happen.”

“What’s a good job? What could work? Flipping burgers? Work on cars? He’d look down on it.”

“Should have become an astronaut. You wanted to be an astronaut when you were a kid.”

“He thinks the moonlanding was fake anyway.”

“A fireman? You wanted to be a fireman when you were six.”

“He’ll want to go to the firehouse to meet my buddies.”

“Say you’re busy. Too women on fire. It’s an excuse to never come home.”

“Dude.”

“You could get a cat out of a tree in front of him.”

“At which point he’d complain that I was wasting my time.”

“Police officer?”

“He’d get nervous that I was going to be shot. Same with the military.”

“Not all military jobs get you shot at.”

“I know it. He hated my dad just going into the army as a mechanic.”

“But—”

“That’s the degree of difficuly we have here.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck.”

“Wait.”

“For?”

“No, no. You’re a spy. Don’t say another word. You’re totally safe so long as not another word is spoken.”

“But—”

“Unless he wants to get you killed, he’ll just watch TV.”

“Huh.”

“It’s flawless.”

“Except, what’s my cover?”

“I never thought I’d actually be happy that my grandparents were dead.”