Transcript Starts
Hmmmmm... hello...
This is a cool little recorder I got myself for Christmas, figuring that I could record story ideas while driving on the road. I wonder if it works?
(pause)
Oh, cool, it does work. OK, now I'm on 275; I just dropped off my wife and kids at the airport, they're flying up to New Jersey to visit family up there. I've got to drive down to Sarasota to visit my wife's one uncle living down here.
I just realized that I'm babbling into this recorder.
I wonder... it listens to me better than anyone else. It was pretty cool to hear my own voice, even if it doesn't sound as deep in a recording as I wish it would. Oh, well. I should be used to that by now. Of course I'd sound better if I was a little bit congested.
It's a nice clear day, the sun is out, not a cloud in the sky, but it's too cold, in the 50s, to be comfortable enough to go sailing, and, besides, I have to look in on my wife's uncle Henry.
Not too much traffic today. I'm amazed that there wasn't much traffic on the Howard Frankenstein bridge today, I hope the rest of the run down will be as easy on my nerves.
(sigh, road noise in background)
Well, at least I can set the cruise control. It's still a nice day. I wonder how my wife is doing? She's been pretty annoying of late and she got all bent out of shape last night when she caught me whacking off, as if that was any surprise.
(sighs again)
I really don't know. She's so damnably intolerant of me. If she's expecting me to abstain from sex with her for a couple of months, I really think she needs to cut me some slack.
Whoa!
(tires screech, apparently the brakes were hit hard)
Damn, there are some idiots out here. Just what I need, some geezer deciding to cut me off.
Anyway, back to my monologue. I'll delete this whole thing soon enough, so I nothing I say here will matter anyway. I can record anything I want and nobody but me will ever know.
(chuckles)
It's funny how she's been so irritated with me; it's not like I expect her to put out for me, so what the fuck does she have to be pissed over, huh?
Where the hell does she get the energy to be so irritable, anyway? By the time I get home she's all worn out from dealing with the kids and her friends, so she doesn't have any energy to deal with me. So why the fuck does she think it's a good idea to criticize me?
(sighs, sound of turn signals and engine sounds of a lane change)
Friggin' idiot. I swear that they don't have the sense to get out of the way of people who have somewhere they want to be.
(sighs again, can hear person breathe and the noises from shifting position on the seat)
Anyway, I've been getting tired of having her all pooped out when I get home. She's always upset when I show up in the last half hour of a movie on TV, too, and I've felt bad for such timing. Of course, making some kind of dinner to bring her in the bedroom sometimes gets her to say thank-you to me but it's been tough for me to eat, given my heartburn.
Oh, shit. I wish I'd brought my bottle of antacids with me.
(coughs a couple of times)
That's a little bit better, now. Anyway, I'm annoyed since she's so unenthusiastic. Sure, she's on antidepressants, but, really, she's OK for everybody but me. She complains that I take her for granted, I've been thinking that it works the other way, too. She manages to have the time and energy for that church group, but, if it's something I want that she needs to move around for?
Uh... gotta get into the right lane, I don't want to head into downtown Saint Pete. Good, another 20 miles and I'll be on 75, that will be somewhere between 20 and 30 minutes, good.
(sounds of turn signal)
Good.
I wonder... when was the last time? Yeah, that was just before Halloween, wasn't it? It wasn't much fun. I remember, I didn't get anywhere, any more than she usually does. It's like such a chore for her yet she's not doing any of the real work, and I got pissed off because she wasn't interested. I think I actually got off with her one time, I think around Labor day, but I can't remember too clearly. It's been a while.
It's a pity she can't talk about it. I wonder what she thought when I pulled out and rolled over and told her I was giving up. She didn't say a damned thing. Well, I bet she doesn't discuss sex with her therapist. It's not like she'd bring the subject up herself, or let the psychologist direct inquiries into that area. Every time I've tried to talk to her about it she changes the subject.
(sighs)
Oh, good, just passed the exit for the BayWay. Now on to the Skyway bridge.
I remember when we went to that one therapist that she said was a male pig because he told her that oral sex was normal. I was pretty pissed off when she told me about how demeaning it was to her. I guess she didn't mind me demeaning myself when I used to go down on her. Stupid me, I guess. I sure as hell did more for her than her ex ever did, from what she's told me. Irritated the hell out of me when I mentioned oral sex and the fact that she'd gone down on him and she told me that I wasn't entitled...
What did she tell me?
She said I wasn't entitled to...
Oh, shit.
(sigh)
Yeah, gotta pay the toll. A whole dollar.
(window buzzes down, distant voices)
Okay, have a nice day.
(window buzzes up, signals clicking, car engine runs hard, accelerating)
Damn. I never noticed. She thought he was worth more than I am. She put up with more from him than she'd ever put up with from me. And I thought that was reasonable, for her. But what about me?
She tells people how much better a husband I am than he was.
I've been faithful where he never was.
I've held a job which is more than he could ever claim. My medical benefits have been pretty damn useful.
I wonder if maybe she looks down on me because I've demeaned myself by providing her oral sex. And I wanted her to know I thought she was special enough to be worth me doing it for her. I guess that showed me.
She can't see her way clear to even thinking that my sex drive is worth talking about, much less satisfying.
And nothing is for me. Nothing. Damn. Her kids have always come first.
What the fuck does she need me for?
(tires squeal, signal clicking, can hear car brake to a stop, and the door opens, the chimes clearly recorded as passing traffic is heard to pass by, some horns blare. It is obvious that the recorder was left in the car.)
Transcript Ends
If you would like me to respond to your comments, you need to provide a return e-mail address.
Why provide feedback? Feedback is the lifeblood of authors here on asstr-mirror.org; we don't get paid in any currency beyond hits on the pages and feedback from our readership. Encouragement, questions, critiques, typos... as a reader you may be surprised how much your words mean to us.
It is a good feeling to know my words have been read ... and enjoyed.
If the above does not work for you, try: ASSTR Msg Form
Author: Jack C Lipton Title: This is a Recording... Part: Universe: Departures Summary: Not all stories... Keywords: angst, nosex Revision: $Revision: 1.5 $ Archive: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/CupaSoup/www/ Mailing List: FAQ: RCS: $Id: recording.x,v 1.5 2004/04/01 03:04:47 jcl Exp $