Waffles and I.

(The current lack of consistent storytelling is due to this week prior to Finals Week and Finals Week itself, so in substitution here is my Oral Interpretation Final, in clear Travipedia style.)



Three readers. Seated in chairs.

ONE
This Is Not About Me, by Travis Curran.

THREE
Act One, Scene One.

TWO
Hello. My name is Travis Harold Curran.

THREE
My name is Travis Harold Curran.

ONE
And my name is Travis Harold Curran.

TWO
And I really think I’m starting to dig waffles.

THREE
And I’m doing this weird thing writing with three characters as voices.

ONE
Yeah, I know it’s weird. But I like writing and doing weird things with writing and this is one of them. I can make these people say whatever the hell I want to.

TWO
I also did not want to hear another fairy tale. For reals. But anyways, this isn’t about me. It’s about waffles.

THREE
I write about myself too much. It’s really poor form.

ONE
Seriously, I am so getting into waffles. I mean, hold on, step back, waffles have always been one of the top contending most delicious breakfast components. They’re awesome. But I’ve never really... just been a consistent Waffle Guy, you know?

THREE
When I eat a legitimate breakfast in the morning, it is Pancakes. Never a question, always been a Pancake Man.

TWO
But I’m pretty sure I’m in a very transitional phase right now... trying to graduate college, finding a new job, getting a new phone, getting a grip, figuring my shit out...

ONE
I’m a straight up Waffle Guy now. I won’t forget Pancakes, I still harbor mad love for the pancakes. But ever since my roommate came home one day after a trip to Hannaford Land, and he busted out some waffles... I was just in awe.

TWO
Waffles. So good. So tasty. Right there.

THREE
At this point, I was actually having a really tough time purchasing a suitable breakfast food for the apartment, doing my best to balance both time-to-make slash tasty-ness slash lowest-possible-price-available.

ONE
And Waffles were the perfect answer.

TWO
They are just so legit. It’s this simple pure form of joy one can only have in the morning. With waffles.

THREE
It’s what gets me out of bed now.

TWO
It’s not like the food during the rest of my day, when I’m busy thinking real hard or doing my best not to think real hard about these problems and complications and issues that need my attention and get my attention and like, really drag me down sometimes.

ONE
But not in the morning. I’m in my apartment, far, far away from the evil ludicrous things that lurk inside that dark castle called Russell. I’m sitting on my futon. I’m in my prizefighter bathrobe. I’m in my Comfort Zone, and I reward myself with some waffles. Two disks of pure unpolluted happiness. And why do I reward myself? What have I done to deserve these waffles?

THREE
Close to nothing.

ONE
I have woken up, welcomed the day, gotten out of my futon..

TWO
Which is reeeeeeeeealllly hard to do.

ONE
Prepared some time in my morning, fit a quick breakfast into my extremely frantic and scattered schedule, gotten dressed, puffed out my chest, put my hands on my hips and declared myself ready for a brand new day. A day full of surprises and challenges, trials and tribulations, hard work and effort... and with any luck, some beer by the end of it.

TWO
And that’s all I really need to get into a good mood and have a good day.

ONE
Seriously, when am I ever in a bad mood? Have any of you ever seen me truly pissed off? It really does not happen most o the time.

THREE
I’m in a bad mood a lot of the time. I’m a pretty huge fuck-up.

TWO
Waffles ensure the good mood though. Even if my day goes real sour, like I forget something really super important, or if I accidentally pass gas when a really pretty girl is sitting nearby me on the bus.

ONE
What’s with all the pretty girls just littered all over Portland campus? Why are they all commuters? Are they too pretty for USM Residential Life? How can we get our school to deal with this housing issue?

TWO
I have to walk under that Skywalk thing when I’m walking home from campus, and it’s just like this crescent arch of totally slammin’ chicks parading in a rainbow over me.
In all honesty, I’ve never looked as cool as I do when I walk that 100 feet of sidewalk. You’ll never see me walk cooler on any stretch of sidewalk.

ONE
It’s the Coolest 100 feet of sidewalk I’ve ever had to deal with. Just waiting perchance one of these transient angels glances down and sees me trucking it to catch the bus.

THREE
I don’t look that cool at all. And none of them look down and see me.

ONE
And if I’ve got a tummy full of hot waffles, and it’s a warm spring day, the sun’s out, and all the finest of babes come out of their deep winter hibernation to commute to class and park in the Abromson Center

TWO
And I walk to school underneath the Skywalk

ONE
That’s basically the most solid foundation for a good day I can hope to achieve.

THREE
The End.

ALL
Thank you.

THREE
We all bow, walk over and hand you the scripts awkwardly, then we return to our seats and ponder the best way to word our reactions and constructively criticize what I’ve just done here when Dr. Stump calls on you, without hurting my feelings. But don’t worry, you won’t.

All stand up, bow, walk over to me and hand me the scripts, return to your seats.

Thanks for putting up with that.

Fin.