Thursday (Letra)

Fatima Mansions, The

(Street sounds; door opens; sounds of television, baby crying and Mother
in the kitchen)

MOTHER: Eh, back so soon? You know, don’t you have a decent pair of pants
you can put on? You look like a…a PIG walking in the street! Your hands,
your face-filthy! You disgust me! I can’t believe you live in this house!
You repulse me. I want to throw up! (Phone rings) Goddamn kids!

(Door opens and closes)

MOTHER: Right! Slam the door again on me! You know, you’re just like your
father! (Voice becomes muffled; sound of answering machine tape rewinding)

BOSS: Yeah, I’m callin’ ‘em now…Hello? Hello? Pick up the phone! Where
the fuck are you? What’s the matter, you just decided not to come to work
today? What the fuck is wrong with you? Ya fuckin’ lowlife! Hey, you know
what? Don’t even bother coming in anymore. I’ve had enough with you and
your shit. That’s it, you’re fired. You understand me? Fired. Don’t come
back here, fuck you, and goodbye. (Silence on machine; sound of cigarette
lighter; beep)

MRS. GLICKER: Hello, this is Mrs. Glicker. I’m calling to reach you about,
to let you know, that, uh, you, you’re not graduating this year because
you are failing two subjects and I need to see you as soon as possible. Be
in my office on Monday at 8:30 a.m., promptly, and we’ll discuss this
matter further. Thank you. Bye. (Phone hangs up; silence; beep; shuts off
machine)

Thursday (Letra)

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Thursday (Letra)

Fatima Mansions, The

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