Editor's Note: One of my goals for the next few months is to try and produce one humorous short scene per week. I will be submitting all of these to the "Shouts and Murmurs" blog on The New Yorker Website and all the entries that don't make it (whether funny or not) will land here from time to time.
A man enters a bar and a beam of sunlight stretches across the worn wood floor and up along the still clean, slightly shining round edge of the bar. Warm air fills the room for a moment.
The door closes and the bar returns to dimness and dank cool. A man sitting at the short side of the bar raises his arm, a beading Miller High Life in front of him.
The man entering sits down next to his friend and orders a gin and tonic. It arrives and immediately leaves a pool of water on the bar top as the drinker pushes the lime down with his red straw.
“So,” the man with the High Life says. “Bargnani.”
The man with the gin nods.
“We gave up a first rounder for him,” the man with the High Life says.
The man with the gin and tonic stirs, watching the lime pulp float.
“We always give up first round picks.”
The man with the gin continues to nod.
“Hell, we even sent Camby. And he damn sure didn’t want to go.”
The man with the gin takes a sip.
“No more Novokaine either.”
The man with the gin sets down his drink and shakes his head.
“It’s going to be some season. Between Amar’e and this Bargnani, we’re going to have no defense. Oakley, Ewing and Starks would be ashamed.”
The man with the gin shakes his head more fervently.
“I bet Bargnani doesn’t even play in fifty games.”
The man with the gin nods again.
“Another Knicks blunder. Feels like Isiah all over again.” The man with the High Life turns to his friend. “What do you think?”
The man with the gin takes a drink and then sighs.
“At least we didn’t have to deal with Dwight.”
“That’s true,” says the man with the High Life. “You’ve got to stay positive.”
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