Conversation · Smoker on the Balcony

"No." He exhales a grey trail of smoke. "I don't think I will. This is between the two of you, you see."

"Then I guess I should apologise for that little misunderstanding in the apartments."

Never. You're no sorry cop. He should apologise to you.

"And if I may ask, gendarme, what is this committee about?" He takes a measured drag of his cigarette.

He's all bemused skepticism. He doesn't actually care what you want with his friend.

"It's about assigning la responsabilité."

"God, of course it is. My friend is always trying to convince me I need a little more responsibility..."

"As though I don't have enough going on already."

"I'm really not at liberty to say."

"Oh, a big secret committee. I understand perfectly..." His mouth forms a half smile.

"I'm not really sure, I'm just trying to reach a higher authority."

"Sounds like a bore, frankly." He takes a drag of his cigarette. "All the fun stuff's down here..."

[Leave.]

"Bye-bye, gendarme."

What is it about the way he carries himself?

Could he be... a member of the homo-sexual underground?

Yes, this man is definitely one of the homos, I've seen them homos with my own eyes.

This sexual thing seems interesting... Ask around, become involved.

Just pointing it out, we're not talking about some kind of a cult with members here, you made it up.

I'm not bringing it up -- let it go.

"Hmm?" he hums honeyed.

"Are you... are you part of the homo-sexual underground?"

"The homo-sexual underground?" The smoker sits up immediately, his eyes wide with amused surprise; a honeyed smile lingers on his lips.

He's assuming a role to mock you -- or to entertain himself with your ignorance. Don't fall for it!

"Why yes I am, officer. Why, do you want to investigate?"

"Yes, I want to hear more about this homo-sexual underground you're part of."

"Oh, it's a pleasure group... a sub-rosa pleasure group congregating in cellars under the cover of night... Saturday night, sometimes even Friday night!"

"But why do you convene, what do you do?"

"Oh we're ambitious, we want to destroy the last vestiges of meaning, the last things people in Revachol have to hold on to, the true symbols of security -- the meaning of man and woman, mother and father, their marriage."

"Everything will be constantly shifting and moving under our rule, the future will belong to a circus of identities, just spinning around, surreal and unreal... You won't even know who you are anymore."

"Other questions, I had other questions, really!" (Try to back off.)

The smoker starts laughing and leans back against the counter: "Sure thing, officer, what do you want to know next?"

"But I like knowing who I am."

"But do you also like the razzle-dazzle of gold? Do you like parties and discos and having fun under the vibrant lights of Saturday night?"

"Because instead of the traditional family unit we're going to have all this razzamatazz," he wiggles his hands, "and mysteries, of course, too -- mysteries of sexual nature, very esoteric. And disco music and drugs."

"No, this is not me."

"I do like disco, maybe I should get into it?"

"You can't just get into it, you have to be born into it -- one is either already in the homo-sexual movement or forever excluded from it."

"What if I can't remember whether I'm in or not? What if I can't remember anything about my life -- aside from the fact that I like disco?"

"Beautiful!" The smoker crawls up to you like an animal preparing to jump. "Beautiful, that's exactly what we're looking for! Who knows, maybe you were homo-sexual in the past, maybe all of that has been repressed..." He circles his hands around you.

"I have to say that you do look like someone who might be part of the underground. You have that very distinctive 'I-can't-understand-what's-going-on-here' look."

"This is gonna be, like, a twenty hour mind-project for me. Twenty hours at least."

"Absolutely wonderful."

A man like you can figure out his sexuality in a working day. It won't be twenty hours unless you want to enter the heightened realms of the fantasme érotique afterwards. Then it may be twenty hours or more! But that would be on your own time.

"Okay..." (Blink.) "Okay, I have to think about it."

"Do think about it, officer." He starts laughing and leans back against the counter.

"Okay, then I'm definitely not in."

"That much fun should be illegal."

"Ah... But for the better part of history it has been illegal."

"But it isn't anymore?"

"No." He studies you from across the table.

"Does it have anything to do with disco?"

"Yes, we listen to a lot of disco. Some say we engineered disco to spread our vision of a vertiginous, ever-changing society, where all there is a razzle-dazzle of gold!"

"We are going to change the family unit with all this razzamatazz and finger-dancing," he wiggles his hands, "and with mysteries, of course, the mysteries are also of sexual nature, very esoteric."

"What about Thursday night?"

"Or Thursday night! Sometimes the congregating doesn't even end, it carries on into our daily life..." He lowers his voice conspiratorially and looks around.

"Let's just not talk about this anymore."

"Why not? Don't you want to hear about how we want to destroy the last vestiges of meaning, the last things people in Revachol have to hold on to, the meaning of man and woman?"

"Or the true symbols of security, mother and father and their everlasting marriage... Everything will be constantly shifting and moving under our rule, the future will belong to a circus of identities, just spinning around, surreal and unreal..."

"You won't even know who you are anymore."