The Cynical Nick: Surrounded by Idiots

I quite liked this assignment. I wouldn't mind getting one of these every now and again.

[NARRATOR: Nick, Chapter II, page(s) 33-34, party scene]

Catherine leaned close to me and whispered in my ear:

"Neither of them can stand the person they're married to."

I wasn't all that surprised.

"Can't they?"

"Can't stand them," she repeated, as if I didn't hear or couldn't believe it. She looked at Myrtle and then at Tom. "What I say, is, why go on living with them if they can't stand them? If I was them I'd get a divorce and get married to each other right away."

"Doesn't she like Wilson either?"

I started as Myrtle herself answered my question. Apparently she had overheard us talking, and she replied with a string of words so violent and offensive that I cannot and will not repeat them.

"You see!" Catherine exclaimed triumphantly. Then she lowered her voice again, so as not to attract attention. "It's really his wife that's keeping them apart. She's a Catholic, and they don't believe in divorce."

That was a flat-out lie. Daisy was not a Christian, nor was she ever one. Whoever had come up with such a stupid excuse obviously didn't give it too much thought, but I had to give them credit for their originality.

I had seen how Daisy had acted towards Tom the other night, and it made me wonder: Who was really "keeping Tom and Myrtle apart?"

"When they do get married," continued Catherine, "they're going West to live for a while until it blows over."

Until what blows over? I had the feeling that dear Daisy wouldn't shed so much as a tear over getting away from Tom.

And as for going West, nothing says "I did nothing wrong" like moving somewhere else to live.

"It'd be more discreet to go to Europe."

"Oh do you like Europe?" she exclaimed surprisingly. "I just got back from Monte Carlo."

The woman had just jumped to a completely irrelevant topic, diverging from our original conversation entirely.

"Really." I'd started to care less about conversation with this woman and her inability to focus, but it was best not to cause friction between other people and myself. Disinterest and distaste were not a reason to disregard etiquette.

"Just last year," Catherine went on. "I went over there with another girl."

How about that. "Did you stay long?"

"No, we just went to Monte Carlo and back. We went by way of Marseilles. We had over twelve hundred dollars when we started, but we got gypped out of it all in two days in the private rooms. We had an awful time getting back, I can tell you. God, how I hated that town!"

I do believe Catherine started a conversation about Monte Carlo just to complain about her unfortunate trip to France and its territories. To think we began with Tom, Myrtle, and their relationships with their spouses.

For a brief moment, I was blessed with the opportunity to look out of the window and separate myself from this chaotic congregation. My body was left there, but my mind drifted outside and basked in the gorgeous azure sky--until I was dragged back to present reality by Mrs. McKee, whose voice had the audial beauty of nails on a blackboard.