Conversations in A Minor

"What you going to do with a B.A. in theater, Harry?"

"I have no idea."

Wipe your ass with it? Snicker, snicker.

"Are you going to get a job or continue in school, Harry?"

"I have no idea."

Wake up and smell the coffee, dream boy.

"So what are you going to do with your life, Harry?"

"I have a few ideas."

Like, ahhhh...maybe something bohemian, live abroad, get an earring. 

"Get into business, Harry. Make some money. Do that and everything else will fall into place," cousin Joey Prager said.

"I'd like to write."

"You want to write? Write orders. Write enough orders, you can write anything you like."

"Yeah. Maybe?"

"Maybe what, Harry? Maybe what?"

I wish I knew. I wish I knew.

"Harry. You're twenty-one already, time to jump on the train of life or get left behind. Just remember this, no money, no honey. What are you drinking, Harry? It's on me."


****


A few days later hanging out in the basement with Finkie, Harry's best friend.

"Why would you listen to your cousin, Joey Prager? He's such a prick!"

"Who says I'm listening, Finkie? I'm just telling you what he said."

"And coincidentally the next day you applied for an MBA."

"I still have to write my GMAT and get recommendations..."

"For business school, Harry, for business school. When have you ever expressed an interest in business?"

"What about our comic stand, Finkie? At age six, I was already buying and selling."

"And what a head for business. We bought the comics for twenty-five cents and sold them for a dime."

"But we read them first. We got our money's worth."

"Put that in your MBA application, Harry. I can even give you a recommendation, because you made all the  money. You never paid me my share of the profits."

"What profits? We sold at a loss."

"You know what, Harry? Maybe you will do well in business. You've always had a streak of larceny."

"I like to think so."


****


Outside the record store:

"Stiff?..Stiff Rosenfeld!..Man, it's been a while."

"Indeed, Harry Starr, indeed."

"So like, what're you up to these days, besides using the word indeed ?"

"Well, first of all, I'm no longer Stiff Rosenfeld."

"You look like him." Harry sniffed Stiff. "You smell like him." Harry touched Stiff's shoulder, then licked his finger. "You sho' 'nuff taste like Stiff...Holy mama -- it's Stiff!"

"Glad to see you've still got a routine going, Harry. You haven't lost a beat since those camp days."

"So who are you now, person formerly known as Stiff Rosenfeld?"

Stiff dipped his hand into his breast pocket, plucked out a business card and handed it to Harry.

"Don Roosevelt, Chartered Insurance Broker. Don Roosevelt? You?"

"Yeah, that's me. Just a modification of my birth name, Sheldon Rosenfeld, I'm trying to get into corporate insurance and thought I'd do better to have a more corporate sounding name...like Don Roosevelt. A name that spells trust."

"I agree with you, Stiff. I can still call you Stiff, can't I? Camp Wyowon's human erection."

"Proud to report that I have that under control. Things are getting pretty serious between me and my girlfriend, Tammy."

"Does she call you Don?"

"Actually no, but we've been going out for three and a half years now. We have our own baby-talk names. I'm Shmoopie, she's Shwoopie...right....But I have officially changed my, name to Don Roosevelt. Look in my mailbox and you'll see."

"I agree with you. We should all be able to name ourselves. Why accept some ridiculous name your parents gave you?...Say, are you still friends with Stevie Dash?"

"Actually, we haven't spoken in over a year. He couldn't respect the fact that I changed my name. Stevie thought I was being a fake. Then his sister is getting married and he sends me the initiation addressed to me as Shlomo Rosenfeld. Fucking guy! My bar mitzvah teacher was the only one who ever called me Shlomo. Stevie, ever the asshole, was mocking me."

"Maybe he was just trying to be funny and you took it badly?"

"Maybe he's just a jerk."

"Maybe you're right..."

"Yeah."

"He never called back," Harry muttered.