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SWAGGER, NOT STYLE

The worldwide headquarters and hindquarters of freelance writer Chris Klimek

Reality Theater: The Enemy is Everywhere

Chris Klimek

MEMORY of a FREE FESTIVAL

Being a drama in one act.

SETTING: The press tent of a large outdoor pop music festival in the suburbs. Not far from here. Not long from now.

CAST IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE:

RICHARDS, a music critic for a newspaper, about thirty

A WOMAN, perhaps thirty-five

A BALD MAN, maybe forty

MALITZ, Richards's malnourished colleague, also about thirty

KLIMEK, a writer for a website, slightly older than thirty

LIGHTS UP on a tent on a dusty field wherein a makeshift office has been erected. A dozen laptop computers, many of them covered in logo stickers, sit unattended on folding tables, power cords dangling precariously. The tables are also littered with piles of small zip-up nylon portfolios and maps and pamphlets. There is no more free water ANYwhere in this tent, if you can believe that shit. A man seated at one of the tables rubs sunscreen on his head. Music wafts in from a beyond a hill, loud but indistinct.

MALITZ uses a PROTRACTOR to adjust the bill of his SILVER JEWS BASEBALL CAP to precisely the right skewed angle while RICHARDS stands animated in conversation with a woman, gesturing frequently towards his white FEIYUE SNEAKERS.

RICHARDS. ...so I bought like nine pairs! I'll totally get you some next time I'm in New York.

Enter KLIMEK.

KLIMEK. Heya, Fellas! I just thought I would drop by to charge my phone up for a minute and also, while that is happening, perhaps to engage in some collegial banter with the both of youse.

RICHARDS (To MALITZ). Don't talk to him, Dude -- he's the enemy! The enemy!

MALITZ. The enemy is everywhere!

KLIMEK. What is that, a Blue Öyster Cult song or something?

MALITZ. Titus Andronicus. Heard of 'em?

KLIMEK. I KNOW IT'S A FUCKING TITUS ANDRONICUS SONG, YOU GOOF!

END OF PLAY.

This post has been lovingly appropriated by the Washington City Paper Arts Desk.