Douglas Collura is a writer, poet and monologist. He's been reciting his work around Manhattan, the boroughs and New Jersey for the last twenty-seven years.

Buckets and Buckets

"Little Sidney, tell Daddy what you want to be when you grow up."

"Well, I-"

"How about a nice plastic surgeon? Make buckets and buckets of money. Give women new faces like all Mommy's friends."

"No, Dad. Mommy's friends look scary. Their faces are so tight, they look like they've been wrapped around their heads a couple of times."

"That's the style, Little Sidney. It's like putting a baby's ass on a ninety-year-old body. It's very in. But alright, you're not a fashionista. How about becoming a lawyer like Daddy? Degrade people in court. It's very empowering. Buckets and buckets of money, Little Sidney. Buckets and buckets."

"I don't want to be a lawyer, Dad. Lawyers always work and don't ever get to do fun stuff."

"Don't put that guilt crap on me, Little Sidney, don't even try! I bust my ass to buy the things that make me feel important. Who do you think I do that for? Me? Guess again."

"Uh, thank you, Dad."

"You want to be an accountant like Uncle Vinny? He's going to be very wealthy when he comes out of prison."

"No, Dad. I don't want to go to prison. The men have to shower together."

"What's wrong with that? A couple of years behind bars might make a man of you. How about the President? Want to be President?"

"I don't think so, Dad. You said he was an asshole."

"He is an asshole. How do you think he rose to the top? Helium? Remember, Little Sidney, the ladder of success is carved out of human bone. Some of the rungs are slippery because they're covered with blood. That doesn't mean you don't hold your nose and keep climbing. So what do you want to be?"

"I want to be a fireman and save people."

"A fireman? You know what those guys make? They're lucky if they have a warm beer and a couple quarters at the end of the day. Sliding down poles. Strippers slide down poles."

"I don't care, Dad."

"Don't spit in my face with that working-class crap, or I'll take off my belt."

"Please don't take off your belt, Dad. Last time you did your pants fell down. I still make Mom come in and check under the bed every night for a giant mole I don't ever want to see again."

"Let me tell you something, Little Sidney. There are two types of men in this world. Those at the top and those who stare up at their ass. You want to spend your life staring up at someone's ass?"

"A girl, Dad?"

"How about becoming a dentist. You'll yank some teeth out of someone's head, he'll scream, the blood'll flow, and you'll feel like a man. Get the old testosterone revved up."

"Yes, Dad, whatever that is."

"Good. That's settled. Now, dental school starts in ten years. Until then, we'll buy some big teeth to hang over your bed."

"I don't know, Dad. Staring up at big teeth doesn't sound as good as staring up at ass."

"Yeah, but it leads to buckets and buckets, Little Sidney. Buckets and buckets."

All writing © 2006 by Douglas Collura.