volume one IN THE D U D L E Y C L A R K - Ohio Vine Tours

The quiet in the Wailing Wall is deafening.
Roy has been coming here for years and never imagined there
was a time when the music was actually turned off.
He is caught off-guard by Glaring Guy’s decision to drop out
the volume, and is shouting when he does so:
“—COULD YOU PLEASE HELP—me?”
Glaring Guy hardens his glare.
No, as a matter of fact, he does not want to help Roy.
Nor would he want to help Suzie Quattro, if she came in the
store.
And he would probably tell Frank Zappa—were he not
already a shade in Hades’ realm—to fuck off and die.
That’s how hard he hardens his glare at Roy.
Roy can only smile back, since he is not good at glaring.
That’s Rick the Asshole’s job.
It appears, with the altered circumstances, that social distance (4
to 12 feet) ought to do the trick.
“—help me with. This. Could you, please?”
He has done better, but Glaring Guy’s glare is distracting.
Roy removes his headphones and presents them to Glaring
Guy, who reacts to them as if they are dripping HIV virus.
“What’s your fuckin’ problem, asshole?”
Roy’s smile muscles are woefully out of shape. He really
ought to use them more often. They collapse into an exhausted
heap.
“Could. Could you...listen? I don’t know who this is.”
The Glaring Guy doesn’t move.
Roy suddenly recalls another one of Glaring Guy’s black
tee-shirts that asks, in big, white letters: DO I LOOK LIKE A
FUCKING PEOPLE PERSON?
“I look like a fuckin teacher to you?”
The way Glaring Guy says “teacher” makes it seem like about
the worst thing a person could be.
“No, no. I just. You. You must know a lot about music and
all, and I just thought—”
Roy falters. In fact, trails off.
Glaring Guy tweaks with his glare while remembering
1 0 ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY