\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1841378-Angry-Hotel-Dialogue
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 18+ · Other · Emotional · #1841378
hoping for critique on dialogue - does it read "real" to you?
ANGRY HOTEL DIALOGUE

“Move” he said, shoving the round hotel table out of the corner with his hip,  ignoring the fact that she had the camera hooked up to her laptop, downloading pictures.  He made this jerky move so quickly, she jumped in surprise.

“Oh!  If you wait just a second” she said, “I’m trying to . . .”

“Jesus Fucking Christ, move, move, MOVE”, he demanded.

“Hey!  I’m trying to finish downloading the pictures so I can be done . . .” she said, carefully regulating her voice.
“Yeah, well, if you move the thing now, I can set up the bed and then I can . . .”

“But if you wait one minute”, she said softly, eyes averted, “I’ll be done done and I can shut this up for the night.”

“Well, the trouble is that it’s not always about YOU!” he said, his voice louder with every word.

Now angry, she answered “Are you fucking kidding me?  About me?  About me?  It’s NEVER about me!”

His face contorted in disgust “Oh, right.  Am I fucking kidding YOU?  Are YOU fucking kidding ME?"

She stared directly at him now.  Taking a deep breath, she said “Wwwwwwoooowwww” as she exhaled and got up, moving deliberately and slowly, to go into the bathroom.

“Yeah, wow, bitch.  Walk away.  You always fucking walk away when things . . .”

She spun around, wild-eyed now, jabbing her chest, yelling “Hey.  I’m here.  I’m fucking right here. Walk away?  Walk away? HA! Great choice of words!  Where the fuck am I gonna go, asshole?  We’re 10 hours from home and we’re stuck in this pissy hell hole of a hotel!”

His shoulders slumped.  “Oh, great.  Fuck you.  You know I did hours of research online and I got the best hotels I could get for the buck and I’m the one who . . .”

“Yeah.  Okay. “she interrupted.  “What I think you mean to say is that you picked the cheapest fucking flea bags you could find and you said to yourself ‘hell, yeah’ – click – ‘my wife can stay here’ – click –  ‘as long as I can flaunt money and treat everyone to eat every fucking place we go’ – click – ‘who cares if we smell like mold and stale cigarette smoke’ – click – ‘and who the fuck gives a shit if our kids get no fucking treats along the way’ – click –  and . . ."

“Oh my fucking god . . . shut the fuck up .” he groaned, almost to himself.

“In fact, since we’re talking about it, this whole entire fucking trip is about YOU – it’s always about YOU and you have the audacity to say that me downloading pictures of YOU and YOUR family is all about ME?  What the fuck.  NOTHING IS EVER ABOUT ME!  And you know it.”

“Fuck me . . . seriously you better shut up” he snarled in some sort of a half warning.

“Oh, I’m not shutting up – I’m just getting started.  What’s the matter?  Truth hurt, ya big hairy dumbass?  Have you blown so much fucking hype out into the stratosphere that you’re starting to believe it?  I sit there and I bite my tongue and I grin while I grind my teeth together so hard I think they might fucking crack – while you spew about just how perfect everything is . . .”

“What have I lied about?  Name one fucking thing that hasn’t been the truth.”

"Oh, please . . ."

"Seriously!"

"Fuck.  What the fuck HAVEN’T you lied about?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously.  Our house is just great – our kids are great – see my brand new car that we bought just for this tip – and oh I got this meal – don’t worry about it – yada yada yada.” she snapped at him in a sing-song voice, making a flapping mouth motion with her hand in the air as she mocked him.  “Do you ever just look at me when you’re going on and on and on like this?" she continued.  "You know what?  I’m sure you don’t.  I’m fucking positive you don’t . . . because if you did, you would see my face frozen in a  sickening fucking smile – a dazed mask.  I have no idea why no one else can see this??  It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“I’m going for a fucking walk.” he screamed, grabbing his cell phone and the room key from the top of the wheezing mini-fridge in one sweeping motion.

“Good!” she snarled back, and then under her breath hissed “asshole.”

“And don’t fucking wait up!” he threw back over his shoulder as he rumbled out the door.

“Don’t fucking worry – I won’t!” she spit back at him, but he was already gone – at least half way down the filthy hallway, still cursing aloud as if she was still in front of him. 
© Copyright 2012 queen8969 (jweb8969 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1841378-Angry-Hotel-Dialogue