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HER: How’s the grilled cheese?


HIM: Fine.


HER: And the wine?


HIM: Also fine.


HER: Good.


HIM: So, what do you want?


HER: What do you mean, what do I want?


HIM: I mean, what do you want? You never cook dinner unless you want something.


HER: That’s not true.


HIM: Yes it is. Remember the last time you tried to cook ravioli and the label caught fire and almost burned the house down?


HER: It didn’t say “don’t heat up the can in the oven.” So not my fault.


HIM: That was the time you bought all those used board games and wanted me to help you sell the pieces online. Or the time you tried to cook–


HER: Okay, got it. But have you ever tried to play Monopoly without the dog? The dog is the best piece. The game is ruined without the dog. So my idea was good.


HIM: I actually like the iron.  And it cost more to buy the games than we got selling the pieces.


HER: So?


HIM: So.


HER: Sooooo, I just wanted to tell you about my new job.


HIM: Okay. Here we go.


HER: I’m going to be an underpants yoga instructor.


HIM: Huh?


HER: An underpants yoga instructor.


HIM: Is that like where you teach yoga to underpants?


HER: No. And that’s not funny. I’ll be teaching yoga to people in their underpants.


HIM: With clothes on top?

HER: Without.


HIM: Women?


HER: Yup.


HIM: And men?


HER: Yeah. Like, three guys have already signed up. Isn’t that cool? Honey? Are you okay? SHOULD I DO THE HEIMLICH?


HIM: Please stop squeezing me. And, no.


HER: Okay, good. I thought you were choking to death.


HIM: No. I meant, “no.”


HER: No?


HIM: No. No skivvies yoga instruction.


HER: What do you mean, ‘no’?


HIM: I mean, nooooo. As in, no teaching that, that, whatever that is.


HER: You can’t tell me no.


HIM: I just did.


HER: You don’t even know what it is.


HIM: I think I do know, which is why I’m saying no. Picturing the general idea right now. And it’s not pretty.


HER: It brings calm to people. Something you could use.


HIM: Okay, but I don’t need calm in my underwear. Underwear is so not calming. Underwear is, like, stimulating.


HER: But I’ve got the garage all set up. Music, mats…


HIM: And our kids?


HER: …curtains.


HIM: Go back to selling dice.


HER: We’ll get a babysitter. You can be in my class. It makes you flexible, you know. Something that is helpful for other things. If you know what I mean.


HIM: I do not want a bunch of people in our garage in their whitey-tighties, boxers, panties, whatever. And I certainly don’t want to join them. And I definitely don’t want you leading the class.


HER: I’m going to do it. You can’t tell me no. I went to the trouble of the grilled cheese and everything.


HIM: It is good. Hey, baby. Baby? DON’T LET THAT DOOR HIT YOU ON THE WAY OUT! Or wait, is it, I hope the door slams your ass on the way out? I can never remember. HEY! Hey, baby! Can you hear me? You’re not being very calm right now! TRY YOGA!



Kate Bradley-Ferrall is an award-winning television producer and scriptwriter. She writes for children and adults, and her written work has appeared in the Colorado Review and AppleSeeds magazine. She is currently working on a middle grade novel. Find her on Twitter @KBFerrall


10 Replies to “Job Creation – by KATE BRADLEY-FERRALL”

  1. Still laughing! Awesome job, Kate! Loved the ending especially, picturing him smugly eating his grilled cheese hollering at the doorway… 😀


  2. This could have easily been a conversation that took place in my own house. You did a stellar job with writing the dialogue in a way that negates the need for anything but. I can “see” the amusement and disbelief on his face, as well as the optimism, and ultimately disgust, on hers. I love it.


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