A park bench. A man sits and drinks a box of wine and talks to himself. Kids play nearby in the grass.

Man: I always thought I was better than other people, but I saw the error of my ways—early on, very early. I was like, ten-years-old; haha, man, I was precocious in those days. Yeah, and I knew that I wanted to be a normal, average human, so would need to humble myself with a vice.

He drinks from his box of wine.

Man: So, at ten-years-old, I decided that I would take up a bad habit and thereby humble myself and become like the common man; of course, smoking was at the top of my list of bad habits to adopt, but I always thought of smoking as a hobby, not a calling in life.

He drinks again.

Man: Of course, there is the question of women, but… well, that just wasn’t my path; no. Sure I consider it but that is such a talkative vice. And there is all the expense. I’m not sure why I don’t though; I have a lot to offer; women love me when I talk to them; you know, just look at me!

He gestures wildly and sloshes wine across the bench; he licks some drips of wine off the box and then drinks from the box again.

Man: Sure, I get that women don’t like seeing the wine-stained lips, but other than that. Well, and the teeth. A full set of teeth, for sure, that helps with the female question, but in other ways I’m a real catch. A real catch. I’m sure if I tried I could have a lot of different girlfriends if I tried; but, no. No, for me, just a quiet, silent, cheap box of wine in the park. I can’t believe I was only ten-years-old and knew I would turn to drink.

The man gestures wildly at the kids.


The kids stop playing, turn, and walk away from the man.

Man: Haha, kids are shy; I don’t know why kids are so shy around me. I bet one or two of those boys will be sitting on this very bench in a couple years enjoying the workday like a drinking man. Haha, do you remember that time, the first time, you saw a man drinking a box of wine in the park—man, I must have been ten or eleven—and I knew that the man was a kindred spirit; I just knew it! But, I was shy—kids are shy—and I didn’t talk to the guy. I wonder where he is now? Still drinking his park somewhere.

He drinks again.

Man: For me, it was just a question of what color of wine: white or red.

He drinks again.

Man: But now I know better: FULL is the only important variable. White or red? No; just make it full. A full box.

A jogger runs past the man’s park bench.

Man: Haha, look at that Protestant Guilt torturing that poor citizen. He punishes himself ad infinitum for an existential crime he didn’t even ask to commit. I can’t believe people exercise; for what? Why is that guy jogging through the park? Does he think he’s better than other people? He’s probably a lawyer or nurse or one of these assholes who make the world terrible for everyone else by driving up inflation. If everyone would just slow down and do less, we would all have more. Literally, our currency would have more value, man.

He drinks again.

Man: You know, and no one asked to be born! Why not sit here and drink away the time? This wine is particularly good today; what variety of grape is it?

He turns the box over in his hands.

Man: Huh, it just says red. Oh well.

The end.