Hi. My name is Superman Jones.
‘Scuse me while I turn and cough in an embarrassed manner. Most people don’t mind – gives them a chance to smirk and maybe come up with something to say.
Yeah. Superman. Really. And let’s get it all out of the way at once, OK? Stupid of me, but I actually grew up with a name like that and went into journalism. Except I do the hot-off-the-press type stuff in the extremely early hours. Superman by day, mild-mannered reporter at night. Relatively mild-mannered. Ummm… actually, a bit of a temper. *sigh*
Oh. Defensive? Umm, yeah. Sorry. It’s just that I find it easiest to get it all out there straightaway, that way I’m not inadvertently making people laugh all night. So, interested in staying for dinner, or has the whole Superman-intensity scared you off? No? Tough gal!
Waiter! Menus, please? Drink for you? Gin and tonic for me, thanks.
So, how about you? First off, what’s your name? Tell me it’s Lois Lane and I may just have to scream!
Oh no, you’re kidding me?
Holy shit. What sort of parent does that to their child?
Umm, yeah, if mine weren’t dead, they probably would get along.
Alright, ridiculous names aside… tell me about you. What do you do with this thing called life?
Journalism? Seriously? Oh, that’s too cute. I knew something was up when Jessie told me she had the perfect woman for me. Not that you might not be my perfect woman, mind you. I’m pretty impressed so far. Where do you work?
Ahhh – the women’s magazine! I love it. Well, some of it. Beauty tips are a bit over my head, and there are far too many ads, but some of those articles – fantastic! What do you write? Wait, let me guess – the beauty tips!
Thank God. Wouldn’t want to mortally offend you! The sex tips? Cripes, woman, if I didn’t read that stuff already, I’d be scared stiff! The last thing a man wants is to be shown up in the bedroom!
Umm, yeah, even if it’s a blow-job. Come to think of it, I don’t remember reading about that in Cosmo. Why not? Not PC? Or has no male ever admitted that before?
Crikey, woman, 10 minutes into the first date, and we’re talking about sex! Does that mean you like me?
Ouch. I deserved that.
So, do you enjoy your work? Frankly, it sounds more interesting than what I do.
Yeah, you would think it’d be intriguing, hey? But there’s only so much you can learn about human nature before it all gets samey, you know? And the sort of stuff I deal with isn’t exactly human-interest fluffy feel-good. It’s all fires and sieges and murders and rapes and suicides (we don’t report those, but we hear about them alright) and… yeah, you get the idea.
Mmmm… it does get depressing.
But writing about sex – does that get a bit samey occasionally?
With an elephant??
Well, yeah. So there are bright spots in the dull miasma, hey?
Oh – yeah, the spaghetti royale for me, thanks, and – wine? House red? Thanks.
So tell me – what exactly was she doing with this elephant? And can you really print that shit?
Ahhhh, sell it to the American tabloids. Nice. I can see National Enquirer lapping it up, especially if you have fuzzy photos! It would be a bit too much for the Aussie ones, unless there are celebrities involved. Even Today Tonight would probably run screaming.
Yeah, good point, work is boring. Ummm… hobbies? Saving the world, of course. See? I have my blue cape in my briefcase. Useful tip for you – never fly drunk. Seems like a great idea, until you hit your first pigeon.