A Hybrid Dialouge

A Hybrid Dialouge

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance



Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance



An allegory of today's national reform
Share :


An allegory of today's national reform


Submitted: January 29, 2017

A A A | A A A


Submitted: January 29, 2017




It is today. An autumn day and a beautiful day. The weather was the same as anyone could expect. However, there was the sense of distinguishable splendor that seemed to encapsulate those who were breathing the fresh moist air to feel refreshed & out of their stagnant bodies. The air was indeed moist due to the last night’s rain thus allowing for one to enjoy the day indoors with the windows open, to expose the beautiful sounds and scents of the outdoors. Although there was a moderate sense of heavenly distinguishability coming through the windows their presentation was not that of their end result. It would seem that these windows were dirty from lack of attention. One knows that in the midst of conversation one does no turn to the widows to see if they are dirty or clean. One does however notice that windows need a cleaning upon opening them. So one will see that same dirty windows day after day and not clean them because of the hopes that no one will notice the grime.

 This seems to be the method of madness of the gentleman who owns the house. It was the type of fresh air that washed the fragrance of room’s fragrance. Althought it came from the dirty windows one could see that the windows were by no means a reflection of the purpose of opening them. For their purpose is to keep out unwanted noises and inclement weather. On the other hand thought, when they are open, it is a sort of bath of natural and refreshing scents & heavenly depictions of light and dust bouncing around the room. I would suppose that this is the working of the world. It is the dirty windows that need to be open to allow in the refreshing scents. One would not think that there would ever be any hope for pleasing fragrances if one were to see the film of tobacco and every day ware that had developed over the years. It would seem as if they acted as a filter as the grime collected & absorbed by the pains before the outside air could come in or the inside air could go out.

Although they are dirty even when opened- they allow for the summer stench to be blessed by morning dew allowing for a sort of air that creates a wonderful natural aroma, where there was once a dirty pane but were now open. So it did not matter dirty or clean. For in a perfect world one would see that if the purpose was to let in the refreshing outside air then why should the windows be clean? Upon there being a pleasing presentation with the widows open the cleanliness of the windows should only be considered when they are closed as there is an array of pleasure that comes about after having them open to allow the inhabitant to experience the refreshing outside air.

 It was a perfect day to sit with in the walls and wonder about things that are going on outside, in the furies of nature... That is Scott wanted to think of things that were on the other side of a dirty pane or open window. He wanted to think of things like why is the landscaper still mowing the grass if it is going to snow before he gets all of the edging done? Although it was late in the summer and beginning to become fall the weather was still enough to be crisp and cool. He knew that it would not yet snow but he jumped to the extreme in a hysterical sort of matter. It was this condition of temporary hysteria that he had to rely on many people in his life. He relied on friends to help him through the day with his mental awareness the same as he relied on the landscapers to mow the lawn or rake and bag the leaves. Necessary as they may be these workers at times become a back drop in this American experiment. That is we see these guys out there day in and day out in the background of our lives and never pay them any mind. It is not that we are trying to deny them the American dream as much as we see that times have changed. Times have changed in such a manner that these individuals working manual labor seem to be working in the spirit of the original American. Those being the carpenters and laborers of the past. Those who came right off of the boat from Europe in search of a better life. It would seem now that there is the same spirit doing the same work. Whether these guys came from South America or directly from Spain they have kept the dream alive. As it would appear that we all seek to be gratified by thinking that we are further along or more evolved. Therefore, we see that we still need these men in our everyday lives. We still need the spirit to be lived out by those just starting out in this country. It was this sort of open aired interpretation that Scott decided to start his day.

He thinks at this time that they are just out there doing their work in silence. Whether it has to be done or not is in consequential. For having it done we see that there is the idea of earning and collecting money for their services, even if their services are unneeded at the immediate time. I think that the condo community is being taken advantage of. I will know for sure if the landscapers still show in December with three inches of snow on the ground to mow the lawn. Then I am sure of it. I will discuss this matter with the community’s resident board. For I do not want the dues paid every year to go to waste. Scott knew that these gentlemen would be here in the winter to shovel the snow, not mow the lawn. He makes jokes because he feels a sense of jealousy towards the individuals living it up out there, in the open air. He felt jealous because it would appear that these gentlemen would never feel the anxiety and depression that come about by living in America and not living the original American dream. The dream allows for newness. It allows for doors to open that were at one time closed. It was how this nation came to be. However, the idea of living in America seems stale. Stale like the tobacco stains on the windows or the smoke settled in the house. Simply put he was bored. He felt a sort of anguish to invite. He thought who am I? Who am I to invite these men to my study? They have a job to do. They have their own problems. Who am I anyway? The more that Scott asked this question the more he figured that he needed something to do with these men. He figured these guys to be men. That is they are hardworking but keep a sort of boyish attitude towards the things that they do in life. They are the men. Me though, Scott thought, I am just a boy. And, a boy without pleasure is a boy with a mannish attitude. One of not having any fun. Always just serious. This spell of seriousness needed to pass. I need to get to know these gentlemen so I could allow for my mind to rest. I seem to be dumb struck by these gentlemen. That is it I am going to invite one of them up and write of it in my journal.

Although the air is nice with window open there was some commotion heard from the study. This commotion was an internal sort of drive that has some way formed itself in to external expression. This commotion was it. This commotion was what one hopes to obtain when living life. This was a social miracle that allows all to be on the same level. However this was a sound of salvation. This sound of equality could only be heard between the sound of leaf blowers and lawn mowers echo across the yard. This echo was a deep echo. An echo that one may find in a cave or a cavern. One that would release bats from any sort cavern that a spelunker may find when looking to harvest stalagmites. It was a beautiful sort of echo as if it were the heavens that made a sound and that sound spread all along the Earth. But this was too dark. There was no more beautiful light. Nor was there beautiful light ever. At least never where he could remember. If it were not for his journal (or Blog ???) Scott wonders if any one would ever know that he was alive. It made him wonder if there would be any proof that he was here after he was gone. He thought and thought and saw that although it was seasonal they have left their mark as landscapers. Also, Scott thinks that there is a wall to be built and these are the guys who were going to build it. If his facts were straight, he knew that these guys would indeed be here when the snow falls. For a project as big as a retaining wall would need to be done during the off season. Scott could not wait to watch this project from his dirty windows. He could not wait to watch these gentleman chase after the American dream one stone at a time. Although he had his writings to exist after he was gone they were only his interpretation of days and today he could not even get around to accomplish the task of interpreting. The thing about it is that there would be nothing solid like a wall to prove he ever existed. However, he dove into an existential conundrum when considering the wall. For one would not know whether this wall existed either as an object by the men who created it, or the company that pays the wages of those who created it. This though was not up to Scott. One must assume that a silent argument would exist in the minds of men for as long as the wall stands.

Oh how there was a nice trade off. The trade being that one is able to smell the fresh cut grass. Scott loved the smell of fresh cut grass. So I suppose that it would be two to one. Two positive things: The temperature & the smell of grass, along with a single negative, which is the noise.

Scott went on to think I figured that I will take my chances with the noise and attempt to write a passage or two in my journal (or Blog.) Oh how I wish I had the courage to aske one of those gentleman for an interview. For now I will forget about that. Then again, how did it go today? The day is already half over and I have done nothing. So I sit. Today I write. I should have washed the windows. They are beginning to be a sound reflection of my mountain of days. However, I have to feel some sort of inspiration. Maybe my inspiration is one of those South American immigrants who chose to come to this country for the all mighty dollar. They have to work manual labor. Thus they are truly suffering for their pay as if it were an art. And their song. It is as if they were tuned by angles. It was as if they were the road to psychic freedom but I guess that is all it is. It would seem that we go through our day in an attempt to break whatever chains that have held us down. Whether one was an intellectual or a laborer they carried chains. Some of them though a bit more difficult to break. One must suppose it depends not so much as the man who carries them as much as it is the work the man chooses.

 For in this instance Scott saw his chains as difficult to break. For to break the so called chains some have to exert themselves physically. Although they are easier to break physically Scott did not excerpt himself except for two or three times a week at the sports club. These laborers thought… They were working with every part of their body for some eight to ten hours a day. Thus their chains were easier to break. These guys suffer for their pay and one could suppose that making money is an art.

 Who the hell am I kidding? Scott went on to think. These guys make gobs of money and then send it home to their families in the southern hemisphere. They probably make ten times the amount here in America than they would in their native country. They are a bunch of scoundrels. That is what they are.

Ring, ring

Oh thank God. Scott thought. Someone who feels the way that I do. It is Anne.


“Hey, Scott what are you up too?”
“Not much. Just hating the landscapers while trying to get a passage or two written.”

“Oh, I see. You know those guys are all a bunch of scoundrels? Also, it is difficult to write while in a state of discontent. Writing while upset will never earn any awards. For you should allow yesterday’s fires to rule today’s writing”

“I know. I was just thinking the same thing. They send all of their money back to their home land. Who do they think that they are?”
“I don’t know but something has to be done.”

“Yeah right. Take action against them. That would be a crime. They are simply trying to earn a living.”
“I guess.”
“Any way. Would either one of us want to do the work that they are out there doing?”

“Probably not. My father is a construction worker. He does pretty well for himself.”
“That is just it. Construction is a justifiable trade with unions and teamsters. This though, this is may lay. It is just a bunch of guys waiting around from five to nine hoping to get picked up for a day’s work.”
“What happens if they are not picked up by nine?”

“Well, they then go to the bodega and drink a tall boy. If they are not picked up by ten they have another beer.”
“This tall boy. What is this?”

“A tall boy is like two or three beers in one.”
“So, it is kind of like a forty ounce beer?”
“Yes, but a little more practical. It does not come in a bottle it comes in a can and one cannot usually find premium brands. The ones who drink this stuff have to drink beer that is so potent that it tastes like moonshine.”
“I guess it is strong then, right?”
“Oh, most definitely.”

“What if they are not picked up by noon?”
“By noon? Well, what an optimist. They do not make it until noon. For they are taking a nap by eleven. They don’t wake up until three. Then there is no chance of finding a day’s work. So they go home and hit the hard stuff with little to do until the next day.”
“Are you saying that they get drunk?”
“I am.”
“And what is it that they drink to get drunk?”
“What is it that they get drunk over? What I mean is what the cause of their drunkenness is?”
“That is not what I mean. I mean why on Earth would someone decide to get drunk at such and early hour?”

“Oh, now I see. One must suppose that they are getting drunk because they got drunk the night before.”

“Is the reason they did not get picked up for work stem from drinking the night before?”

“This would seem to be so.”
“Then if they drink again they will not get picked up the next day? Is this correct?”

“Very much so.’
“Then why do they not stop at the tall boy? Why don’t they skip the tequila?”
“That is a difficult one to explain.”

“What will it take to form an understanding?”

“We must first look into where these people are coming from. Sure enough that it is South America but who were they before their migration. There are many sacred tribes in South America. They are tribes like the American Indians. They are very spiritual.

“Thus we see that this is why the drink so many spirits? But what of their language? Are they also not also decedents from Spain?”

“Some are decedents of Spain and the rest Indians.”

“If some are from Spain then some are from the Romantic Language of Spanish. Is this correct?”

‘Correct indeed.”

“One must also suppose that if the Spanish landed in South America at one point and time and it was earlier occupied with Indians that the Spanish and the Indians would eventually procreate?

“This would be so.”
“Then it is these landscapers who have the Spirited Indian side as well as the fun loving Romantic Spanish side.

“One must assume so.”

“The one must suppose that between who they are spiritually as much as who they are linguistically that they don’t fear when the drink too much because it would not seem to be a problem due to their specific nature.”
‘Indeed the hybrid is going to be a fun loving spiritually guided individual.”
“Then, maybe they are right for drinking the tequila at night. For a spirit must have guided them. Also, they must not consider not being hired seriously because they are of the fun-loving Romantic Spanish side. Is this correct?”
“Indeed, thus we should not admire when they work or discourage when they do not. For, they would appear to be adapting to the customs of The United States.”

The phone conversation ended and Scott returned to attempting to draw up a linguistic dialogue. He could not find exactly what there was to write about but he knew that there was something. As he thought he heard the hum of the lawnmowers and the echo of the leaf blowers and he thought. Maybe I should write about one of these guys. Maybe I should get to know one of them. You know have one over for a beer. No, no that is terrible idea. I would appear to be sucking up to him as if he were a king. I would make a faulty attempt at speaking Spanish just to show this poor sucker that I was on his side, scoundrel or not. I don’t exactly know what side he is on but I now know that I am on it. Heavens, have I too been drinking tequila? I feel as if I were slurring. Once again the phone rings.

Ring, Ring.


“Hi, Scott. Is that you?”

“Yeah it is, but you are going to have to speak up. I can’t hear you over the damn landscapers.”
“Why don’t you close the windows?”
“Oh, good idea. I will do that now.”

Scott stood up and made an attempt to close his windows. In an attempt to remain stoic he did not have a cordless phone. So, in his attempt at closing the window he knocked a stack of papers off of his desk with the telephone wire.

“Mother fucker!” he sounded off. He went on to say, “Are you happy know. I went to close the window and knocked over a whole stack of papers. It took me all day yesterday to organize them.”

“Oh, well then I am sorry. I was just talking to Anne and she told me that you have been trying to write a passage but have not yet done a single thing.”

“Yes, I am trying to get on with it.”

“Then look at this. You can take the day to re-organize the papers. Then tomorrow you can return to writing a passage, in your journal,” (or Blog????).

“I guess. But I will take tomorrow to re-organize. For today is when I write my passage. Any way what is it that you want?”
“Did you close the window yet?”

“Very funny. Why don’t you piss off?”
“Just having fun with you. You should get a cordless phone. It would make things easier.”
“Oh hell no! I am not going to let the communist or the Gestapo to record my conversations. I say some pretty far out things.”
“You got that right. I called to see if you are free tomorrow?”

“Free like how? I have no intention of being subdued and taken to the prison. Nor, am I intending to check in at the psych hospital.

“That is not what I meant. What I meant was will you be able to take me to the doctor and then the chemist?”
“Well I would have had time to do that but I now must organize these papers that have become disheveled.”

“Once again you need to get a cordless phone. Any way you can organize them the next day.’
“A cordless phone huh. I see what you are saying.”
“What am I saying?”
“You are saying that if I had had a cordless phone then the papers would not be disheveled.’
“Ya caught me. That was my whole plan. I was to intentionally ask you to close the window so your papers would be knocked over just so I could recommend that you should buy a cordless phone.”
“Well congratulations on a job well done.”

“Any time. But we must now consider whether or not you are able to take me to the doctor and the chemist.

“I don’t know.”

“How about this. For your trouble we will go to the department store and I will buy you a cordless phone. You know. No joke. I will be a man of my word.”
“Hmmm. So you are not joking?”
“No, I said I would recommend that you should have one then who be it from me that I should not be the one to buy it for you.”
“I don’t know what you mean. That was a semantically involved sentence.”
“Here, let me put this in laments terms. I am going to put my money where my mouth is.”
“Ok. That I get.”

“I knew you eventually would.”
“Look, I know that you seem to be more advanced than myself. I accept it. But maybe you speak on such a far out cloud because you have no one to guide you back down to Earth.”
“What are you saying?”

“I guess I am saying that if you recommend a phone to me then I suggest that you should find a woman to share your insights with.”
“Not a bad idea but who has the time?”
“I don’t know. I have been trying to write a passage for the past hour and everyone still thinks that I have the time. That is between appointment and fallen papers. It would appear that I have nothing but time.”

“Never mind those papers. I will see you tomorrow and the new phone will make up for all of your lost time.”
“Ok, I will reach out to you tomorrow.’

“Until then.”
“Take care”
“Got it.”





Scott readied himself to organize the papers but in his attempt he faltered as he was distracted by the workers outside. He wanted to invite one of them up to his study so he could write a passage based on the hard working individual. Although these people are usually from a foreign country their purpose was purely American. It was odd to see such a patriotic bunch surround a man who has lost his bend on Capitalism as he may have been seen to hold more socialistic views. To Scott this was the irony. For it would appear that although he was born in the country he was nowhere near as patriotic as the group of individuals he had working outside of his house. It would seem that the better off one was the further away from America they move. Thus Scott wanted to hear the views of such a capital driven individuals as they were truly the patriots.

Scott stepped out of his study and walked down the stairs. Upon opening the door he was welcome to the outside world of grass clippings and gasoline motors burning. These were pleasurable smells to Scott. He loved the smell of gasoline at gas stations as he would roll the windows down in his car when he would fill up, even in the winter. So the smell of the gasoline was very familiar. He loved the smell. He would love the smell until the day he dies and whether he was a capitalist or a Liberal he enjoyed the smell, nevertheless. So much so that he would not mind if it were the last aroma he smelled before his death. Happiness for him could be dying at a gas station where this scent would be in its purest form but he had no time to die now. He had to work things out with the patriotic foreigner. He was beginning to be feel excited. He felt like he used to at the Saloons where he would approach woman. These feeling were ever-present and made him nervous as he did not know what he was going to say. Instead it seems that there would be an immediate mental reaction. One that goes unknown until the situation is lived out.

The gentleman looked out at the workers in an attempt to see which one he would approach. He noticed that there were three workers working and one worker was laid out in the grass enveloped in the shade. He would have normally been disappointed at the laziness but he knew that this person was in the perfect state of mind to live up to Scott’s expectations in his attempts to interview him. So he approached the worker and said, “Excuse me. Excuse me sir.” Scott realized that this person could not hear him for one of two or of both reasons. These reasons were he either did not speak English or the mowers and blowers were too loud to hear over. Scott raised his voice and spoke in broken Spanish. ‘Hola hombre. Hola.” The worker looked up and saw Scott waving his hands. The worker felt caught. It seemed to the worker that he had his restful state interrupted by the American. The worker felt that his relaxation had been chased away by the one who would appear to be an aggressor. It was as if the worker did not want Scott to be mixed among the workers. It seemed that he did not belong.

The worker hopped to his feat feeling invaded. He then said, “Hola senior. My Non trabajo ah.. a..non herbas alta!”

Scott immediately saw that the young man felt threatened and figure that he was trying to say, “I am not working because this grass was not full grown.” So the man tried to pacify the worker by saying, “Non trabajo. Tu Y me enter cassa en locaro.’ What he was trying to say that he and the worker should go in the house and talk. This idea began to run a little wild. For he could not find a way to explain to the worker the situation. There was the thought of how would he be able to interview him properly with such a language gap.

It was then that he had a thought. He figured that the fore man would be able to speak both Spanish and English. Scott then approached the worker and said, “Donde est tu um.. How do you say...? Boss?”

The worker looked as Scott in a state of panic and fear and said, “No, no yo tarbajo.” The worker suspected that he gentleman would tell the boss that that he had been slacking off. This worker felt in the presence of Scott that he had to dig his own grave before Scott executed him. It was apparent to anyone walking by to see the worker taking five but the working crew would not like word to get back to the business owner. It was this gentleman’s boss who was liaison between the workers and the owners. So it was ignored but all the worker knew that slacking off would not be tolerated by the individual who signs the checks. Or, at least pays the cash as the patriots may not have a bank account. For this reason the workers become frightened. This was not the case though. Scott simply wanted to ask the foreman could translate. He understood the reaction though. Then he began to say in the best Spanish as possible, “Tu dormit es no problem. Yo locaro tu boss quis locaro English.” The worker was surprised and grateful. He understood that the gentlemen figured that he just wanted to speak to someone who spoke English. Relived the worker showed the gentlemen to the foreman. It was a relief to the two individuals involved in the earlier conversation but Scott still did not have the understanding of how this process of an interview would go. Nevertheless, he walked up to the foreman and said, “Do you speak English?”
“Yes, yes I do. What is the matter? Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yes everything is fine. I have a question though.”
“What is the question? Could I help in anyway?”

“Why yes. I was hoping you would be able to translate for me. I would like to hold a civil interview with this gentleman, right here,” Scott stated pointing to the worker.

“Are you saying that you want to take this man from his job and ask him questions?”
“Yes. I will take full responsibility. Do you think this could be done?”

“But if I translate that would be two workers not working. We would never get the job done.”
Scott pondered for a moment, as he did not want to call the forman a scoundrel to his face. He had many degrees and awards for his intellect but still it took him a moment to see. He hoped that the foreman had an exotic foreign background. Thus, there was the wonder of only one worker being freed from the day’s work to sit and talk with Scott. Evaluating this situation closely he asked the foreman what his name was?

“My name? My name is Pedro.”

“Ok Pedro. Are you from South America too?”
“Yes. Yes I am. I am from Peru.”
“Well that sounds terrific. Have you been chasing the American dream since when?”
“I have been in the states now for twelve years.”

“Hmm… Yes that is all so interesting. Then how about this. Instead of me wasting two workers time I take you inside and we discuss our point of views and take our time. You know get to know one another?”

“Well I suppose that I could have the worker do the job of mowing. Fine then we should go inside.”

“Ok,” said Scott, “Now let me lead the way.”

“Of course,” said the foreman.



Scott escorted the landscaping foreman from South America into this study. This room was where Scott got most of his thinking done. It would appear as if his thoughts were in the air offering a sense of comfort to an otherwise dismal life. Although Scott never saw living life as important as interpreting it he always made due by allowing for himself to be gratified by his work. However, not everyone saw like Scott. That is Scott has some interesting views. At times he felt he knew a little about a lot of areas of study. He considered himself the typical academic. It was with his college degree that he exercised his right towards freedom of consciousness. This was especially so in his writing. He understood much of the world and felt as if it were his job to document. So, he thought quite freely and it usually lead to a decent piece of writing. He felt the most free in his study. It would seem as if the room were alive with thoughts and interpretations to the point where he would be considered as running a thinkatorium. It was a sense of freedom that he never sensed in a class room or a reading. His works had been presented and awarded many times. He was indeed and accomplished writer. But this study was the center of the Earth to Scott and he was in this nucleus pushing buttons and pulling levers to allow for life to go one. He knew that this life would go on with or without him. So he spend most of his time documenting his ideas and interpretations at length throughout the course of the day.

But now he had an individual whom he does not know before him and he was about to open up this man’s world and form his own opinions about this man’s life. Although this man was a manual laborer Scott believed him to be smart enough as he referred to him earlier as a scoundrel. Now that this man sat in front of him his mind was not transmitting the same feelings. Instead Scott saw a gentleman who was working hard to provide a better life for his family. This was the power of Scott’s study. The human understanding does not take place until it is questioned. Just as a skeptic allows for a thinker to formulate more thoughts the study allows for this to occur quite naturally as Scott realized that his earlier skepticism was false and these men were not scoundrels but good people who may be misunderstood, at times.

In his study Scott kept a few single malt scotches. He loved to drink scotch. It was his favorite pass time. That is other than documenting life and interpreting other’s ideas of knowledge. It seemed to take the edge off and allow for him to say what he means and not just say what other’s would like to hear. It was as if he felt independent by drinking scotch. This was not just a simple idea of freedom. Instead he felt as if he would never conform. He wanted to remain independent just like the founding fathers. It was when he was drinking scotch that he felt like a true libertarian. He was completely and honestly free from anything that may burden. He really enjoyed his scotch and being the kind of man he was he invited Pedro into this world and knew that there would be no way for them to communicate without some sort of catalyst.

So before sitting Scott faced Pedro and said, “Would you like a scotch?”

“Que?” responded Pedro.

It was here that Scott felt truly human. For he could not say what he meant in Pedro’s language but instead made a motion towards the liquor and said, “Es neccisario.”

Pedro looked at Scott for a moment with a blank stare. Then suddenly the thought registered and the glaze that was held over his eyes disappeared and he said, “If necessary then yes, please.”

Scott leaned over and poured Pedro a drink and said, “You will enjoy this. It is very expensive.” It was here that Scott could not help but wonder how these two were in the situation that they were in now. For Scott figured that Pedro gets paid one or maybe two hundred dollars a day and the scotch he was about to drink costs two hundred and fifty dollars a bottle. Thus Scott saw that this individual would have to work for more than a day in order to normally enjoy this drink. It was here that Scott felt a bit guilt and anguish. But, he then realized that he is catering this man’s needs by having him in his study for an interview. He felt as if Pedro should feel grateful that he was able to on this very day have a taste of the good life. However, the more Scott pondered the clearer the situation was. For Scott understood that the gentle man before him could have probably bought this type of drink in his south American home for a lesser price than one would pay for in the states. He figured that this gentle man was making about quadruple what one would make in his home country. Scott began to do the math. He figure two hundred dollars a day time six because he figured that Pedro and his crew would work on Saturdays comes out to twelve hundred dollars a week. If we multiply this by fifty two because there are fifty two weeks in a year then we get over fifty thousand dollars. If we quadruple this then this man would make what is comparable to six figures in the United States.

It was here that Scott realized that he was getting away from himself. He felt as if he was make too many assumptions. Why would he have this man over for a drink if he were simply going to assume every little thing about him? He knew that is was time to ask questions. He did not want to interrogate Pedro. But, nevertheless he knew that he offered Pedro a damn fine scotch and he decided that he could one day afford his own when he returns home. This set Scotts conscious at ease. In knowing that this Pedro man will be a wealthy individual upon returning to South America he did not feel guilty for introducing to him such a scotch.

Since Scott figured that since Pedro could probably afford this drink on his own he decide to talk about it. He looked at Pedro with hopes that he would take a sip. He was pressuring the poor Pedro into tasting the drink because at this moment it was Scott’s only out. “Go ahead Pedro. Take a sip,” Scott stated.

Pedro looked at Scott in a manner that could only be seen as wanting to see through him. It was as if this spiritual individual wanted to see exactly who Scott was before taking a sip. What Pedro saw was a friendly gracious man who seemed to treat people nicely. It was here that he knew to trust Scott because what one sees on the outside is exactly what was going on inside. So Pedro took a sip and immediately made a face. This is the face of a whiskey drinker. Although it looks as if the individual does not like this they must taste past initial sting and see that there is a sort of oaky flavor that the drinker experiences. Scott knew that he could not verbally tell this man how to drink so he asked, “Well, how is it?”

Pedro was a man who liked his tequila so the initial sting did not bother him. He said, “Smooth!”

`Scott knew that Pedro was not joking and he wasn’t. He understood that Pedro trusted him. So in return Scott trusted Pedro.

“So, you really taste the flavor?” asked Scott.

“Oh, yes. Once you make it past the initial sting you really get a nice flavor.”

“What you are tasting there is the barrel that it is brewed in.”

“Oh,” said Pedro, “I drink much tequila but I don’t think that tequila is made in a barrel.”

“Nor do I. That is the interesting thing about culture. For we as humans can all interpret different things and live different lives but whether it is scotch or tequila we have to make it past the initial sting. Do you know what I am saying?”

“In fact,” said Pedro, “I do. It would seem that we are all humans and are after the same thing as we all have to go through the same sort if experiences even when dealing with particulars. It would seem that although we experience different things we all have the same experience.”

This interpretation surprised Scott. For he wondered how such a thought came out of this man in particular. As it would seem Scott’s surprise is exactly what Pedro was talking about. It was here the Scott realized that he was going to accomplish what it is he set out to accomplish in this meeting. So Scott went ahead and expounded on Pedro’s thoughts.

“Yes, indeed,” Said Scott, “We all must experience the sting even though we are different men sharing a different experience. Is this what you are saying?”

Pedro nodded his head as if to say go on and Scott did & said, “The sting is the same for every man.”

“We take different drinks out of different situations. As you drink tequila when you muscles are sore in order to relax I drink scotch when my mind is blank. So we see two different reasons but still the same sting. Is this correct?”

“Pedro nodded again but this time shared his interpretation by saying, “You and I may be in different situations. Me being the laborer and you being the one we labor for. This is so. However, we see that as we recognize our differences that we see how the same we really are.”

“I suppose so,” said Scott, “The thing about it is that you are the leader of a crew and I am nothing more than a servant to whatever situation my life dictates. Take tomorrow for example. I am going out to help a friend and in return he is buying me a cordless phone. It would appear that my friend would be the employer and I the employee as I will receive compensation for my time spent on taking him to the doctor.”

“Ok, if this is true then you see that I too must provide services in order to receive compensation. For although I am the boss of those five men out there are four other crews each with their own foremen who have to answer to the owner. He is the big boss and the one who signs my checks.”

Scott took a moment to ponder exactly what was going on. He did not want to call this gentleman a slave. Nor did he want to call him a free man. What he wanted to say is that he is a sort of liaison between the true laborers and the owner. It would seem as if he would be considered the middle man. The more he thought the more he figured that although they were both receiving compensation for their work Scott’s world seemed to be more direct. So Scott asked Pedro, “Would you hope to one day be the owner and work directly with your foreman in order to be alleviated from being the go between? What I mean is do you hope to one day deal with work more directly?”

“Well, I never really thought about it but if this sort of situation does arise I would love to be the boss. I do not see this happening though. I would probably move home before I ever became the boss. I have family back in South America.”

It was here that Scott began to experience what he hoped to find out. That is he knew that they were both different from one another but still the same and the more they were considered different the more the same they became. This we so because although they were different the sting was still the same. The sting was human. It was the flavor of every individual that made each man what he was. It was as if the flavor of every man was hidden behind this sting and the more one knew of this the less sting there truly was. Scott felt as if he had made some headway and figured that he would be better able to write of this man after dismissing his presence so he extended his hand and said to Pedro, “Thank you for taking your time with me. I know that you still have a boss to answer to so I will let you go ahead back to work.”

“Could I finish my drink?” Asked the landscaper.

“Of course. And if you would like we could talk to each other next week.”

“That is find,” said Pedro, “But the cold weather will be here soon. I am unsure that we will be working until the spring.”

“That is fine. I hope you have a wonderful winter.”

“Thank you.”

It was here that Scott took some time to reflect and realize that these workers were not scoundrels at all but were instead hard working men. Upon this reflection Scott wrote a passage in his journal depicting his experience with Pedro.


The next day Scott rose from his slumber and was up with the sun. He wanted to get an early start on the day as he was a bit excited over taking a leap, or a technological leap to buy a cordless phone. Before he rose he sat at the foot of his bend and recapped yesterday’s occurrences. He understood that this Pedro gentleman was now in his life and he did not mind him being a part of it. So he took some time to consider exactly what took place. Before talking with Pedro Scott would have simply left the worker out of his life as felt there would be no similarities in their lives. He figured him a scoundrel. However the more Scott thought the more Scott felt as if he were the real scoundrel. He thought like this because he realized that he had no one to answer to as he lived his life by himself and did what he pleased with his day. There was this lasting feeling of shame that made him rise and stand. He had to forget about yesterday and face the day instead of curling back beneath the sheets into bed.

Upon rising he noticed that the stack of paper that he thought to organize yesterday were still thrown about the room. He knew that he had some time before Fred was to pick him up to go to the store. He read the clock on his night stand and saw that it read Six Thirty A.M. So he knew that he had about two to three hours before Fred picked him up. The stores opened at Nine A.M. He was excited to be up. For although he had to forget yesterday for now he was still excited about writing his interpretations of yesterday’s interview. This excitement lasted all the way from his upstairs bed room the whole while until he walked down stairs to the kitchen. Although he thought himself to be the scoundrel today he did not yesterday. Instead yesterday was the day that he saw through the grand design and hoped for a sort of equality among men. He poured himself a cup of coffee and decided reflect on today’s day already. This was an early hour and he had only been awake for less than an hour but he thought about what he thought as he rose from his slumber. Earlier he thought himself to be a scoundrel but he realized that this was not true after a couple sips of coffee. He knew that although he had no one to answered too it was not as if he lived life willy nilly. Instead it was obvious that Scott did do a lot of things for others. Taking today for example there was the idea that his friend’s health will be better after he sees the doctor and Fred would have no way of getting to the doctor without Scott. Thus, Scott saw himself as the one who would be making Fred better. Without his services Fred would not be able to have his future health assured. So Scott saw himself at the head of Fred’s health.

This day was going smoothly because of the coffee. Although Scott had a headache from staying up late writing today was still good. Although he drank a bit too much scotch he considered the day to be all right. He could not yet get over how wrong he was about the man he spoke with yesterday. He was happy that the man was not a scoundrel and the more he realized that the man was not one the more he realized that he was not one either. He loved the idea of helping his friend. He could not wait to see the look on Fred’s face when he arrives at nine o’clock.

As he waited he stop to think about what his newly found friend Pedro was doing at this very moments. Something told Scott that Pedro was up last night late. He figured that Pedro was up late telling his stories to his family and friends the way that people did in Spain. That is he probably had a late night because the one’s he loved wanted to hear of his day. Also, there was the ancient South American side that we see that Pedro was still able to wake up for work. This is so because as a member of an ancient society (whether he was or not) he learned to face discomfort as a sort of tribal trial or ritual. So even if his fun loving Spanish side was awake until a later hour his tried and true Indian side would allow for him to make it through another days work. As Scott reflected he looked at the difference at the two lives. For Scott felt pampered as he awoke. This must have been the shame that he felt. He felt shame because his friend has to now do backbreaking work with a hangover from too much fun last night. That is from too much smoke and too much liquor and still has to face a hard day of manual labor. As Pedro had to endure such a day Scott awoke probably an hour or two after Pedro and did not have to push around any bulky lawn mowers for eight to ten hours, today. Scott’s day was pretty much in order and it would end whenever he thought fit for it to end. Pedro thought had to work within someone else’s time scheme. It frightened Scott that Pedro had to work for someone making all of the pay and at this individuals pace, as Pedro was considered expendable by the owner. He felt sorry for a moment. He then took some time to reflect on how he could improve the nature of Pedro’s employment existence.

Scott knew people in the work world. He would want to get Pedro a job after their encounter. He did not have to work so hard and for so long. However, the only people that would need any assistance would probably require a college degree. Ahaha… Scot figure out what there was to do. He will get Pedro a brochure at the community college. It is right down the street from the department store. He will pick up a brochure for the English department. Pedro spoke both English and Spanish. So he could be a Spanish Teacher. That is it Scott thought. Pedro will be a college professor. He will take courses at the county college and eventually end up teaching a second language there. Scott really put a lot of thought in to this. There was still a problem. How is he going to work and still be able to obtain a degree? This thought was tossed about as Scott paced around the room muttering to himself what he considered wise utterances. This idea of educating Pedro seemed to consume him. So as he paced there were thoughts moving back and forth through his mind. He knew that after this hard night of drinking that Pedro presumably had and the hours he presumably had to work that Pedro would fall for the idea of being educated the same way Scott was falling in love with the same idea. After a few hours of contemplation Fred arrived to take Scott to the store as he had to go to the doctor and the chemist.


Scott was relieved to see Fred. He was suffering a bout against insanity with no one to talk to. He knew that these utterances and pacing are the likes of mad men. He looked forward to talking with Fred about this morning’s thoughts and ideas. He relied on Fred because Fred was indeed a smart man. He knew what there was to make out of life and lived it. Fred’s world was more external than Scott’s world. That is Fred took more time to talk of the particulars instead of assuming one understands. He could walk through every hour of the day and have something to say at every passing moment. This is what Scott enjoyed about Fred. He may have even been a little bit jealous as Scott want the same sort of social abilities that Fred possessed.

“Hey Fred! How are things?”

Fred looked at Scott and just as Scott expected had made light of the situation. He said, “You look like hell. Have you been drinking at such and early hour?”
“No, I was up late last night trying to write a passage.”
“What was the passage about? You must be passionate about whatever you were writing about.”

“Well,” Scott said, “I interviewed a gentle man yesterday and have become obsessed with the idea of bettering his life.”
Fred looked at Scott with a surprised look and asked, “Is this the gentlemen from the working crew. The individual who we spoke to be a sort of hybrid of ancient, romantic, and modern times?”

“Well,” said Scott, “We did not speak of any one in particular but instead spoke of an entire group of people. So, yes he is one of the men from the working crew but after talking to him I realized that we should not group all of these workers together, or maybe we should?”

“Which one is it man? Should we group them all together or should we prescribe individuality?”

“That is to say, or, difficult to determine.”

“What is it that is so difficult?” Asked Fred.

“The idea that these guys are a bunch of laboring idiots with no prospect or ideas I see that these are some pretty interesting guys. Although I only interviewed one of the gentlemen I was held in such a state of surprise based on his views and interpretations that as I look at his crew I wonder if there are any other jewels that could offer me such human and precise interpretations. For, I am aware that you now that I would rather analyze life instead of live it. These guys were doing both. They were living for a day’s work and going home where they make human connections constant and continuous with friends and family.”
Fred was not astounded but was certainly intrigued. He was not astonished because Scott was a brilliant man. So, Fred knew that he would see the best in men. However, he was intrigued because he truly believed that Scott and this Pedro gentleman ha a connection on a human level. The Fred went on to say, “How are you going to figure out what the rest of these individuals are like. Will you allow for this Pedro fellow to speak on behalf of all of the workers? Or, are you going to interview other workers just to make sure that everyone is on the same level?”
“That is an interesting idea. It would be great if I could interview all of the workers to prove that they as well as their foreman and ourselves are all on a human level but it will be difficult because even if these laborers are the same as you or I there is still a language barrier. Also there is the idea that the workers are not dispensable. That is the crew cannot afford to have both the foreman and the worker to be interviewed. For work still needs to be done.”
“I see.”

“Unless,” Scott said, “Maybe I could have the foreman tell me of his workers. Instead of simply creating journals and articles I could sit down and make this my work. I could make and attempt at creating a book. I will call it a Hybrid Dialogue.”

“Why would you call it this?”
“I will call it this because of the individual’s background.”
“Of course assuming that they are all the same.”

“I should hope so.”

The two men then set out to go to the Doctor and the Chemist and eventually to buy a cordless phone, as promised by Fred.


After leaving the Doctor and pharmacist Fred wanted to hold true on his promise and asked Scott where he wanted to buy the cordless phone as promised Scott. Fred asked Scott if he would rather buy the phone at the local electronics store or if he wanted to go corporate and buy one at one of those franchise store?

Although Fred was not in the mind of Scott. That is he did not know that Scott was thinking of the original American. He was understanding the true libertarian. For he was earlier analyzing workers and found that he would stick to grass roots. However, Fred knew his friend well enough to know that he would not choose the corporate store but asked anyway. So Scott responded, “Come now friend. You know me better than most. Which store do you think I would like to shop?”

Well-being that I have turned onto Main Street I assumed that you would keep things on the social level and shop human to human, as we are on our way to the local store.

“Oh,’ said Scott, “IF we are on Main Street then it would not be so hard as to swing by Oak Street where the County College is?”

“For what?” asked Fred?

“I was hoping that we could stop by and get some literature on the linguistic program.”

“You’re not still thinking about getting that worker into college are you? You should leave well enough alone,” Fred scolded.

“Well enough alone?! This man could have a whole new life and earn a lot of money. Instead of sending his money back home he could obtain a job as a professor after his schooling and make enough money to move his family to the states.”

Fred said, “That is exactly it. When is he going to find time to work all day as a laborer and still take courses at the county college?”

“That one is easy enough,” Scott said, “He could always take night courses. That is how I began my collegiate career.”

“Sure,” said Fred, “you worked and went to night school but you worker at the super market as a floor boy. You were not excepting the same sort of energy as a laborer does. Plus I am sure you were slacking off. Or, rather being a scoundrel yourself,”

“I see what you are saying.”

“Well,’ Said Fred, “Am I right?”

“Somewhat. But I do not think it is time to reflect as much as it is time to look ahead and hope for a promising future for all.’

“This gentleman. This hybrid gentleman. Did he ever ask for your assistance or have you gone mad the way man sometimes does as he thinks that he can do the bidding of a king. I just want to tell you that this man is not your fool. You are not his creator. I do not say this because I doubt you allegiance to humanity as much as he may be living life well enough without any sort of academic intrigue. It is the intrigue that you and I fell for. This intrigue that you and I understand. I am not trying to make the life of an academic appear to be a “know it all” existence as much as I am asking that you work with those who hold the same ideas and interests.”

“This gentleman could be the best friend of a linguistics professor. I mean he is pretty much fluent. So, I ask why we should not accept him as an academic as much as we accept him as a human. Or, as much as we recognize that he was at one time an animal?”

“I do not intend to speak of social evolution as much as I ask another question. Do you understand that in order to be a linguistic professor that the gentleman will have to learn not the basics of speaking as much as the dynamics and rules of a language? Also, this is two languages that you are asking this gentleman to decipher.”

“That should be easy enough. For he will see that there are some similarities and some differences from language to language. I am sure that his will will only make him better at his studies.”

“Ok. I am sure that people do learn from comparing similarities and differences. However, think back to before you understood. Think back to the time when you knew nothing other than dynamics. The dynamics of learning is what you were always hung up about.”

“Hung up, sure,’ Scott said, “But the transition was made.”

“Scott, I am not doubting whether or not you have understood that the academic life worked out well for you. I has worked out well because that is what you wanted. This is what you always wanted. You always wanted to be an academic. You told you family and friends and if you did not yet tell them you kept yourself with your dreams. But these were your dreams and not someone else’s. So please be on the human level with me and answer why you feel as if you should take this man under you guise and transform him?”

“I am not one to force a transformation as much as I am able to spot the ones who may be able to transform. I feel as if this gentleman in particular has potential.”

“So you say he has potential and if he is as gifted as you hope then you come across as some sort of savior. However if he does not prosper in the field of language you will not pay him any mind ever again, as he remains the sort of gifted gentleman you hope he is there will be nothing but accolades for you when he prospers. You are in a win win situation. I see this and I hope that you do as well. For I do not wish to chalk this man’s life up to a loss. I know how you get sometimes Scott. Your will is well but the event of your will is not ever really necessary. I know that you want to clean you windows in your office but you pay them no mind. Instead you take the time you could have very well spent cleaning the windows to hold an interview with someone whose life was going fine before you chimed in on how to make life better. Is the way or is the way not to give attention to those who request it. It is not to deny someone assistance when asked but wait until they ask. There no need to jump to the conclusion that all are looking to live in the same manner as yourself.”

“Yes,” said Scott, “I know that I at times stick my two cents in when it is not requested. However I feel that there was a sort of psychic bond this Pedro gentleman and myself held, if even for a moment. The ideas and feeling that I felt after figuring that this man should be at the forefront of linguistics were that of the heavens. I swear it was as if the gates of the hereafter were there outside of my window. This Pedro literally the Peter at heaven’s gate as he guarded it true and well passing judgment where judgment was needed but allowing for natural human mistakes.”

“What the hell are you talking about Scott? It would seem that you have allowed for this Pedro to take the roll of judge as he presents the heavens to those who are welcome.’
“That is just it. His job was to keep an eye on the rest of the workers. As for the hear after what is it other than a miss interpretation of being. I believe some of the earlier philosophers call it the Trans migration of the soul.

“What type of world did you create after saying what you have just said?”

“The world I am referring to is that of the ancients. It was upon seeing a dog mistreated that the philosopher said please leave the dog alone as it possesses the soul of a friend. This was an interpretation of the earlier philosophers.”

“What are you saying Scott. Did you recognize this man as a friend?”

“After getting over the initial meeting as we spoke I began to see a friend. I began to know this individual as if I have always know him. He turned out to be a friend. He did not seem to be the type of friend who knew what to do or how to do it.”

“Scott, what does that even mean? I am your friend because I know you. I take to the same interests as you. We have much in common and are still different enough to be interesting.”

“I see. I suppose that you allow for the idea of the idea of a friend to be held between us.”

“Yes, we are friends. If this man resembled me for a moment or forever I want you to know that I am your friend. I am not saying that this man is not but we cannot live a life of illusion. We have to remain grounded.”

“Ok, then we should go to the electronics store and buy that phone. Maybe I will clean those windows today.”

 “Sounds good.”
“It would be nice if I had a friend to help clean those dirty Tabaco stained windows. Do I still have a friend in you?”

“Yes Scott, I will help you clean the windows.”

“But only after you help me hook up this cordless phone.”

“There is not much to it. All we have to do is plug it in.”

“That simple, huh?”

“Yes, it is that simple.”




© Copyright 2017 Brian Sowakinas. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Booksie Spring 2017 Flash Fiction Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Brian Sowakinas

A Hybrid Dialouge

Short Story / Romance

Popular Tags