Sundae, Bloody Sundae - By Baden
The Jazz Boat Sundae is the biggest ice cream on the menu, so of course she orders it. Along with champagne, the most expensive drink. If there were a Bugatti on there, she would order that too.
A choice of class and elegance, the waiter remarks.
Shut the fuck up and get the food.
Of course, Madam.
She won her place here fair and square. She is the star of the show. The waiter is merely a professional. You cant compete with celebrity. Desserts or no.
Camera! Right here! Tracy, Tracy, you OK with the camera here.
I couldnt give a shit. I am here to eat, not direct a fucking movie.
Tracy, baby, if we could just keep it clean. At least when were rolling.
Tracy is lapping up the last of her lobster and caviar and rather than risk ejecting any by talking, simply glares.
From the kitchen, on a plate heaped high, the culinary finale, the Sundae, appears. Tracy manages to grunt and point to her table. Bright and glinting, smothered in crimson sauce, it approaches. She can almost see her face in it. The waiter places it gently in front of her and smiles.
"Bon appetit."
A choice of class and elegance, the waiter remarks.
Shut the fuck up and get the food.
Of course, Madam.
She won her place here fair and square. She is the star of the show. The waiter is merely a professional. You cant compete with celebrity. Desserts or no.
Camera! Right here! Tracy, Tracy, you OK with the camera here.
I couldnt give a shit. I am here to eat, not direct a fucking movie.
Tracy, baby, if we could just keep it clean. At least when were rolling.
Tracy is lapping up the last of her lobster and caviar and rather than risk ejecting any by talking, simply glares.
From the kitchen, on a plate heaped high, the culinary finale, the Sundae, appears. Tracy manages to grunt and point to her table. Bright and glinting, smothered in crimson sauce, it approaches. She can almost see her face in it. The waiter places it gently in front of her and smiles.
"Bon appetit."
Comments (21)
Again, it was a clever satire of such world.
I'd like to think that's what it meant.
That's something like what I got from it. But maybe I'm just as sick as you.
First thing that came to mind was 'Sunday Bloody Sunday' a political song by U2 about the massacre of protesting Irish civilians by British soldiers. So, very much a deadly hostile Us v Them situation during The Troubles. To say the very least...
Quoting Caldwell
What have we got instead?
A Jazz Boat Sundae. Sundae is surely derived from Sunday, that special treat of a day. For some.
What is in a 'Jazz Boat' version is anybody's guess. But ice-cream scoops for sure.
The final part of an indulgent meal ordered by a celebrity who has a strong sense of entitlement.
Quoting Caldwell
The waiter is way, way down the list; not an A or a B, more like a Z.
She treats him like dirt. Does she have an inkling that he is taking the piss?
He has her measure.
No class or elegance despite appearances.
"All fur coat wi' nae knickers", he might have said if he were Scottish.
Quoting Caldwell
So, an 'Us v Them' scene.
She is being filmed, deferred to and consulted about the best position of the camera.
Obscenities fall from her lips; they come naturally to her.
All she wants to do is gobble.
Daggers fly from her eyes. If looks could kill. But she is on camera, so she fakes a smile.
A whole other world of Sunday Trouble. But we might see similarities:
The bloody massacre was caught live on film. Followed by an Inquiry. White-washed.
The finale:
Quoting Caldwell
She peers at the Sundae with piggy eyes and sees herself. A face in the crimson sauce. The waiter smiles knowingly.
Quoting Caldwell
Enjoy!
The sweet revenge of the downtrodden.
What is in that Jazz Boat Sundae? Anybody's guess. Red and white bodily fluids...the spills of war.
***
Sweet :party:
:up:
Seems like I did see Sunday Bloody Sunday a long, long time ago.
You may be interested to learn that there was another Bloody Sunday:
Quoting Bloody Sunday 1905
What is it about Sundays?
Do you know if this Russian Bloody Sunday was written about in a novel?
The reason I ask:
In English class, my new and wonderful teacher introduced us to something similar.
I can't remember the details but it was the first time I was moved to write poetry.
She gave us a choice of homework: an essay or a poem.
No contest in my book!
It really struck a chord with me and I've never forgotten the experience.
I don't know if it was written about in a novel. Do you still have your poem?
No, I wish I had.
The teacher thought it good enough to pin to the wall of fame!
God, I loved her; her inspiration never to be forgotten :fire:
All that remains is my memory of red blood spots on the pure white snow...
A striking image. Alexandra Kollontai wrote of the "trusting expectant faces, the fateful signal of the troops stationed around the Palace, the pools of blood on the snow, the bellowing of the gendarmes, the dead, the wounded, the children shot."
That sounds strikingly similar. What I now recall:
Soldiers on horses, bayonets [*],blood, a crashing and smashing of crowds including children...
It certainly left a strong impression.
I'm not sure that it would have been a novel. I think I would have remembered that.
Perhaps an extract.
Pretty damned awful.
[*] or maybe Cossacks with swords...
I liked it even though it does appear as more of a scene than as a story, and it may be that micro fiction works better for scenes than full narrative accounts. That is because the writing of a complete story within so few words might reduce a a full one to what is often criticised as 'telling' rather than 'showing'.
As @Amity has pointed out the title is a pun on the U2 song, 'Sunday Bloody Sunday'. What this leads me to reflect upon is the contrast between pleasure and suffering in life with the story here being about eating a sundae and of human interaction, with subtle dynamics of sexual attraction. This is in contrast to the people dying in the streets of Northern Ireland and of terrorism. So, on philosophical level it seems to be a reflection on the interplay between life and death instincts, which Freud spoke as being the tension between Eros and Thanatos.
Which author here is a fan of U2, or Northern Irish history I wonder? I guess the former at least wouldnt narrow it down very much.
"Sundae, Bloody Sundae" , strikes me as having a few important themes: Indulgence, a superiority-inferiority dynamic, pleasure vs adversity. Classism I guess: the help (the waiter) and the revered icon (the celebrity).
I cannot know the personality of this Tracy woman before she became a celebrity, assuming she wasn't born into fame and/or money. Perhaps she was always this rude.
But the again, maybe she is drunk on luxury and ego that comes with newfound popularity and the worship of fans.
I doubt she ever worked as a waiter, or struggled in life I'd imagine one who has wouldn't ever address a waiter like that. And if she has struggled, if she did work as a waiter or low paid job before fame, then perhaps she's being a great hypocrite, denying the existence of her past and putting it as far away from her as possible by bolstering/ outlining a clear distinction between her privilege and the waiters subordination.
I think Tracy is either a) Very insecure, vapid and newly famous, and trying to personify what she thinks is celebrity behaviour or b). She was born into money and fame and her family failed to ground her. Now she's spoiled and unable to relate with anyone who isn't within her circle.
I'm kind of on a posting break over Christmas but I had to thank you all for the brilliant interpretations and analyses. I wrote the story quickly on the basis of the title phrase and had no conscious thoughts of much except getting to an ice cream with blood on it (and I was aware of the U2 song, of course). But you saw so much more... Cheers :smile:
.
I really enjoyed this. Another winner :up:
Quoting Baden
:grin:
Quite the tasty destination. It carried us all along with entertaining images:
Quoting Nils Loc
Take care, one and all :sparkle: