Thursday, October 26, 2017

Season 3, Episode 3, ‘eps3.2_1egacy.so’ 

A Wink Gone Wrong



I was watching Mr. Robot live last night, so I couldn’t pause it to find out whether Irving’s novel was any good. But I figure I can’t be the only one who wanted to know. So, as a public service, I rewatched that scene this morning and am sharing it with you. I could have guessed that a novel called “Beach Towel” wouldn’t really be award winning, but you can be the judge. You are welcome. 

Chapter 4: A Wink Gone Wrong
Jonathan lay there, prone, cheek pressed against the asphalt, his mouth filling with the metallic taste of pennies. As his mind re-booted, recovering from the sudden stun, he now began connecting dots, running through all the possible reasons as to why someone should want to assail him in the parking lot of a Publix — — but there were just too many recent developments to draw a reasonable conclusion.

Then Jonathan saw a woman with wildly overdone Smokey Eyes eyeshadow standing behind his assailant. “Oh, her,” he thought. “This is all a misunderstanding.”

And sure enough, it was. The events leading up to present, Jonathan sucker-punched in a grocery store parking lot — — his reusable shopping bag on its side, the chocolate cake he had been instructed to pickup from the Bakery skittered across the pavement in its plastic shell, the SpongeBob depicted in colorful frosting now warped and grotesquely skewed — — could be traced back to a simple, harmless, miscommunicated facial gesture.

A fact that Jonathan tried to articulate as he pushed himself off the ground. “This is all a misund— —” But this factual basis for a resolution went unheard or unheeded as Jonathan took another blow, slumping back down to the parking lot pavement.

“You been sweatin’ my lady,” he heard the man say as he saw work boots approach. Shit. Steel-toed.

“Can you...just...wait a second?” Jonathan said, pushing himself up again.

Jonathan looked up at the man. Took in his burly, sunburned arms. His eyes unreadable, but intent unmistakeable, behind mirrored Oakley sunglasses. Then again at the tattered steel-toed boots. The story his appearance told was that of a guy who worked outside, a guy who worked with his hands. Meaty damn hands.