Chatting with Butler and Bagman

I had a meeting.  I was running late.  I rushed into the workroom, still dressed in my workclothes although I had divested my tie in the car on the way home.  I hit the start button on the computer and nothing happened. 

I looked up and saw that Bagman and Butler were just staring at me with that expression I know so well.  At least Bagman had that expression -- half laughing, half angry, half curious to see my reaction.  (Yes, I know that adds up to 150%).  Butler hardly ever has any expression.  But I could tell it had something to do with my computer.  "Very funny, very funny.  You want to log me back onto the nework now?"

BAGMAN (grinning toothily):  "Sorry, Jack, you've been shut off."
BUTLER (nodding gravely): "We voted." 

There was a long silence followed by a longer silence although to be honest there was nothing in between the two silences so it might have actually been one very long silence.  Long enough, anyway so that I knew I would have to break it.  So I did.  "Care to tell me why?"

BAGMAN:  "Because we've been watching you!  Running here, running there...working, trying to be everywhere at once. We know you!!"

BUTLER: "It was my idea to shut you off.  We both knew you were overdue..."

"For what?"  I said.  "Overdue for what?"

BAGMAN:  "For one of your big whineys!"

BUTLER:  "I don't know about the people who follow you, but Bagman and I are really tired of listening to you complain about not being able to blog or read other people's blogs."

"That's not fair!  I don't whine that much," I whined.  "Besides, I've been reading blogs."

BUTLER: "You read a grand total of five this morning and three of them you just skimmed."

"But I was busy!  I only had an hour before work and I had photos to download and I had to write a letter and..."   I stopped and thought a minute.  Bagman and Butler were just staring at me.  "I'm whining aren't I?"  

They both nodded their heads. 

"So are you going to let me post a blog today or not?"

BAGMAN:  "Not a chance, Jack!"

I shrugged and went back upstairs to work on my taxes.  Just before I closed the door, I heard Butler asking Bagman a question.

BUTLER: "Why are you calling him Jack?"

The Blogspot Nudist Colony

Bagman slouches in the chair across from Butler’s desk, the left side of his long overcoat slipping off of one hairy thigh, the right side draped just enough to cover himself. Butler rolls his eyes.

After a brief interlude during which they watch the Superbowl Game together, pleased that their beloved Steelers manage to pull off a victory in the last few seconds.

Then Butler clears his throat and says, “You know you can’t just run around streaking like some inebriated fraternity boy. We’re 62 years old, for Pete’s sake!”

Bagman scoffs, “What kind of person uses the word ‘inebriated,’ for Pete’s sake…or should I be more proper and say ‘for Peter’s sake’? Peter. Get it? Peter.” Bagman cracks himself up.

“Don’t change the subject. I can’t let you ruin our reputation and the reputation of our benefactor by taking your clothes off whenever you want to!”

Bagman stares straight into Butler’s eyes and spits on his carpet. “Reputation, my ass! We’re not even real so don’t bring our benefactor into this! All he was doing was sitting at his computer capturing my heroics for his precious blog!”

Butler scurries around his desk, cleans up the spittle from the carpet with a paper towel and some germicidal cleaning fluid. Returning to his desk, he shoots back over his shoulder, “Well, nobody who is reading his blog wants to see anybody naked either!”

Bagman considers spitting again but realizes that this will just set off a meaningless cycle which, although it would be a fine metaphor for his relationship to Butler, would waste too much time. “You are wrong there, brother. Every blogger in Cyberspace wants to get naked, just like me.”

“Fiddlesticks!” screams Butler with the closest he ever came to cursing. “The blogs you are following are written by fine, upstanding ladies and gentlemen who are interested in higher ideals.”

“And they all want to get naked!”

“Fiddlesticks! Fiddlesticks! Fiddlesticks!”

“Bagman sighs, lets out a deep breath which is really the same thing as sighing, and says, “Maybe not always the way your little anal retentive mind interprets it. Just because I’m coarse doesn’t mean I’m shallow. Clothing is only one layer you can shed. And one of the least interesting, except maybe for the co-eds that were on the street a few minutes ago. This whole blogging thing that our benefactor has dragged us into is focused around exposure. People wanting to show themselves to each other. Thoughts, feelings, beliefs, desires. And other people wanting to look!”

Butler blinks. He is thinking.

“Can’t you see it?” Bagman moves in to hammer in the point. “Blogspot is a nudist colony!” He shoots his fist in the air as a victory sign and the other side of his coat falls open.

Butler looks away, disgusted, and thinks hard. He can’t bear to think of the consequences if he loses control of Bagman now. It was bad enough when they were teenagers and society gave them some slack. “But we’re 62 years old, for Peter’s sake! I mean, for Pete’s sake!” He shuts his eyes tightly with frustration and hopes a line of rebuttal will come to him.

On the other side of his closed eyelids, he hears the sound of spittle landing on his carpet.