by Nino Cipri
Nita: The scars on your back. What are they from?
[...]
Nita: You don’t have to answer that if you don’t—
Maddie: Yeah, I’ll pass. It’s, uh. Not really first-date material.
Nita: Sorry. [Clears throat.] Though if you’re amenable to follow-up interviews, you could give me your number.
[Laughter.]
Maddie: Shit, that was smooth. Fine. Gimme your phone.
Nita: I’m gonna pause the recording, okay? We can finish the interview after breakfast. You don’t have anywhere to be, do you?
Maddie: Nowhere I’m not happy to—
[End of recorded material.]
***
Entry 2.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
[Voices, jazz music, rattling cutlery.]
Nita: Okay, so we are at Knockbox café, Chicago, Illinois, and it is...2:24 in the afternoon, September 29, 2013. And I’m here with the lovely Maddie for our, ahem, follow-up interview.
Maddie: Follow-up interview, my ass. [Into microphone.] She asked me out on a date.
Nita: It’s an interview! I’m recording it!
Maddie: How is this going to fit into your sex-nography or whatever if we’re not actually...
Nita: In bed?
[Maddie clears her throat.]
Nita: Well, I’m not gonna make any presumptions, but like, I’m not here just for the sake of science.
Maddie: I thought it was art.
Nita: Sociologically influenced art.
Maddie: Let your record show that I am rolling my eyes right now.
[Laughter.]
Nita: So, I missed some of the questions on my initial interview, because a certain someone distracted me. You ready for them?
Maddie: Let me get coffee first. I feel like I’m gonna need caffeine if you’re gonna ask me about my sex life in public.
Nita: Let me get your drink, okay? I promise, the imaginary ethics review board won’t object.
Maddie: Okay. Can you get me a dirty chai? With soy milk?
Nita: Sure.
[21 seconds of ambient noise.]
Maddie: This is so transparently a—maybe not a date, but it’s definitely a something. I have no idea why I am actually charmed by this. [Whispering into microphone.] It doesn’t hurt that you’re cute as hell.
[14 seconds of ambient noise.]
Maddie: It’s been a long time since I felt like this. I don’t know if I...
[39 seconds of ambient noise.]
Nita: Okay. So. Are you from Chicago?
Maddie: I’m from Washington. State, not DC. A tiny mountain town up in the Cascades.
Nita: What’s it called?
Maddie: You wouldn’t have heard of it. It’s a wide spot in the road called—
[Garbled.]
Nita: ...Yeah, definitely haven’t heard of it.
Maddie: Told you. Most people in Washington don’t even know it’s there.
Nita: What’s it like?
Maddie: Used to be a logging town, now it’s a ghost town. Gray and rainy. Lots of forests, lots of overgrown clearcuts.
Nita: Is it pretty, at least? With the woods and the mountains?
Maddie: I guess. Pretty isn’t really the word I’d use.
Nita: What word would you use, then? To describe it?
Maddie: Hmmm. Fairytale-ish. But not the nice kind of fairytale. Not something Disney would make into a movie.
Nita: [Laughs.] I’m gonna nod like I totally understand what you’re talking about.
Maddie: You never read the old versions of fairytales? The kind where girls drown and turn into swans—
Nita: WHAT. Wait. You’re saying that [garbled] had kids drowning and—
Maddie: No! No. Just. Uh. My mom just had, uh, books when I was a kid and I—it’s just the sort of place where you could imagine things happening. Like Twin Peaks? Have you seen that? Very David Lynch. Yeah.
[...]
Nita: Okay! Moving on. So when did you move to Chicago?
Maddie: Just this year.
Nita: From [garbled]?
Maddie: No, no, I left there after, uh. 2009. I’ve lived in a few places since then.
Nita: Just get restless?
Maddie: Something like that. I guess I haven’t wanted to get tied down to a particular place.
Nita: Cool, I get that. Sorta. I grew up in the suburbs and then like, moved here for college. Anyway. Next question: do you still talk to your parents and—
Male Voice: I got a latte and a dirty chai with soy!
Maddie: I’ll get them.
[...]
Nita: Thanks.
Maddie: Thank you. You’re the one who bought them. So...I don’t really want to talk about my parents, if that’s okay?
Nita: Of course! Yeah. Like I said, this is—
Maddie: Have you seriously asked everyone that you’ve...you know. Slept with. Have you asked them these questions?
Nita: Yeah. I mean, it’s a little less awkward when you’ve already, like, stuck your face in someone’s pussy.
Maddie: True. I guess.
[...]
Nita: Did I make it weird? I think I made it weird.
Maddie: No, it’s fine.
Nita: I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m just...curious. About you.
[The ambient noise briefly dips in volume. One of them breathes. The other fiddles nervously with a pen. The moment passes; conversations and the music resume.]
Maddie: It’s okay. I mean. Also I don’t know how to tell you this, but uh. You’re interviewing the randos you take home for sex, it was never not gonna be weird.
Nita: [Sighs.] Yeah, fair.
Maddie: It’s all right. I’m used to weird.
[...]
Maddie: What? Is there something on my face?
Nita: No, it’s not...Can I just...
Maddie: What?
Nita: Would you mind if I kissed you? I just...I’m curious.
Maddie: Yeah. Yeah, all right.
[...]
[Soft laughter.]
Nita: [Softly.] Yeah, that’s as good as I remember.
Maddie: Okay. Um. Did you have any other questions to ask, so we can keep pretending this is an interview?
Nita: I wasn’t pretending!. This is an actual thing. You’re just.
Maddie: Just what?
Nita: An outlier.
Maddie: [Snorts.] Right. Thanks. Just what I always wanted to be.
Nita: I did have one other question. But I don’t know—
Maddie: You can ask.
Nita: Well. I...so. I’m still curious? About the scars on your back?
Maddie: Oh.
Nita: What are they from?
Maddie: A car accident.
Nita: Really? They look like scratches. Like—
[Chair scraping.]
Nita: Wait, Maddie—
[Thumping, footsteps. A door opening. The sound of traffic.]
Nita: Maddie, please, I’m—
Maddie: Turn it off.
Nita: What?
Maddie: The recording. Turn it off!
Nita: All right, see, I’m turning it—
[End of recorded material.]
***
Entry 3.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
Nita: Okay, it’s...1:13 in the morning, September 29th—no it’s the 30th, now. Maddie just left, she said she had work in the morning so she couldn’t stay. I kinda wish she had, but it’s probably more than I deserve, that she stayed this long and this late. That she didn’t just tell me to fuck off when we were at the café.
We talked for a long time. She told me a little bit about the car accident, and...One of her friends was in the car with her and...Maddie didn’t like, come out and say it, but reading between the lines, this other girl didn’t make it out. I shouldn’t have been such a nosy shit, but I—
This project, like so much in my head, sounded like it would be really cool. My et
hnography, LOL. You can’t see it, but I just did really big air quotes. Why not interview the people that I fuck and then edit it all together and find some deep and underlying truth about the nature of, whatever, queer millennial sexual practices. I figured I’d end up on This American Life and then get like, a genius grant or something eventually. The first few interviews were cool, because yay, getting laid in the name of art. But this thing with Maddie is...
We’ve got a date for Friday, and I’m scared shitless and also hella excited. I like Maddie a lot. A lot a lot. I’m leaving the recorder at home. Wish me luck that I don’t fuck things up more than I already have.
[End of recorded material.]
***
Entry 4.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
[7 seconds of breathing.]
Maddie: You’re asleep right now. Which is good, because I don’t know how to tell you that I don’t really want to be part of your project. The ethnography of the people you sleep with. I’ve been having a good time with you, and I want to keep having a good time with you. Being an outlier was all right, but I think I wanna...
[Soft snore. Rustling cloth.]
Maddie: [Whispering.] Maybe it’s not something I should say out loud yet. It scares me how much I’ve already let you in. But I really like you. I wanted you to have a record of me saying that, just in case I...
[4 seconds of soft breath.]
Maddie: It’s probably too soon to be worried about that.
[Rustling cloth. Nita stirs. The sound of skin touching skin; comfort.]
Maddie: I don’t want to be just an outlier, okay? Let me be something more. For as long as I can.
[End of recorded material.]
***
Entry 5.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
Voice: November. Sixteenth. Two thousand thirteen. Voicemail from phone number seven seven three—
[Garbled.]
Maddie: Hey, it’s Maddie. I have a favor to ask you, and it’s a pain in the ass, and I wouldn’t be asking you if you weren’t my last hope, but...anyway. I’m flying home for Thanksgiving and my ride just bailed on me. Do you think you could take me to O’Hare? Sorry, I know it’s a pain in the ass to go to O’Hare, and my flight is at the ass crack of dawn, and traffic will probably be terrible. I will repay you with like, massive amounts of your booze of choice. You can ask me prying and personal questions and record them for the thing. Are you still doing the thing? You haven’t mentioned it in a while. Anyway. Let me know. About the ride, not the thing. Okay. Bye.
Voice: End of message.
[End of recorded material.]
***
Entry 6.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
Voice: November. Twenty-second. Two thousand thirteen. Voicemail from phone number seven seven three—
[Garbled.]
Maddie: Hey, it’s me. Sorry, I know it’s late, just wanted to let you know I got in okay—
Female Voice: Who are you calling? Is it that girl you were telling me about?
Maddie: [Muffled.] Mom, shut up. [Clear.] Anyway, it’s all good here. Thanks again for dropping me off at the airport.
Female Voice: Invite her too. Have her come with you when it’s time.
Maddie: Mom, stop.
Female Voice: [Close to microphone.] Come for Christmas!
Voice: End of message.
[End of recorded material.]
***
Entry 7.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
Nita: Dear ethnography diary, or whatever this is now. Am I a terrible person? All signs currently point to yes.
I have, at this point, moved beyond Facebook stalking my outlier—listen, that was her joke at first, not mine, and I think there’s a three-month minimum before you can actually call someone your girlfriend. Point is, I’ve moved past casually Facebook stalking Maddie and into deep Facebook stalking.
I wanted to look at pictures of Maddie as a kid. I just did, okay, I stand by that, I stand by my own weirdness, because yeah, when I say it like that, it makes me sound like a weirdo. But hopefully a romantic weirdo. Anyway. So I dug through Maddie’s Facebook looking for pictures, and couldn’t find any picture of her pre-2009. Nothing. And I don’t know, maybe she was an ugly teenager or something or wanted to do an online makeover. But there’s not even pictures that her friends posted?
And because I was bored on the Internet, and because I’m a jerk, I went and searched for [garbled], her hometown, and I couldn’t even find it. And that’s where it stops being sort of jerky and starts being kind of stalker-y, because then I actually went to the library and looked in an atlas, and still couldn’t find it. Nothing.
[13 seconds of ambient silence. A siren passes nearby. It fades into the soft noise of birdsong, barely audible.]
Nita: I don’t know why, but this feels like...a red flag? Yeah. And if it was anybody else, I’d probably ghost. Block her number, stop answering her texts. I should have renamed my project: autoethnography of a ghost. Wait, no. A ghoster? I dunno. But I’ve ghosted everyone that came before Maddie, and usually for similar stupid-ass reasons. Except for my high school girlfriend, because you can’t really ghost someone that you had four classes with, although trust me, I tried.
[12 seconds of ambient silence. Nita sighs. Her breath has weight.]
Nita: This is the most masturbatory thing I’ve ever done as an artist. Except for that time I pretended to masturbate on stage. Ugh. Nita out.
[End of recorded material.]
***
Entry 8.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
[Garbled.]
Maddie: —boutique hotel, and I swear to God, they, like, origami the pillowcases and towels.
Nita: In Anacortes?
Maddie: Yeah. It’s weird going there in the off season, but we had a good time.
Nita: You didn’t go to your mom’s place at all?
Maddie: ...I don’t really like going to [garbled].
Nita: Still, it seems weird to go all the way out there for Thanks-giving and not even, like, go to your mom’s house.
[...]
Nita: Sorry. That came out—
Maddie: No, I know it’s—
Nita: Really didn’t mean to sound that...that...
Maddie: Judgy. You sounded judgy.
Nita: Shit. I’m not judging you. I’m not, really. I’m just, like— you make me intensely curious, and I’m trying to like. Curb that. But it’s hard.
Maddie: Thanks. I think.
Nita: I just think you’re super interesting, and I know it’s super dorky, but I—I really like you. And I want to know you.
[...]
Nita: Look, is this still about the ethnography? Because I promise I—
Maddie: I don’t need you to promise anything, okay? That’s not what I’m asking for.
[Ambient noise. Chairs shifting on the linoleum, someone’s fingers tap nervously on the tabletop. The kitchen table sounds like it has gotten larger, stretching to a gulf between them.]
Nita: You could. Ask me to. I’d promise...shit, Maddie, I’d promise you a lot.
[Chair scraping.]
Nita: [Closer to microphone.] Ask me to promise you something.
Maddie: [Hoarse, soft.] I don’t care if you...if you’re curious, okay? I don’t care if you dig up everything. But you can’t ask me about it, okay? It’s hard enough, keeping—
[them]
Maddie: —it all out of my head.
Nita: Okay. I won’t ask you.
[Sound of kissing.]
[...]
[Time is running out.]
[End of recorded material.]
***
Entry 9.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
[Traffic. Voices. The subtle rumble of an underground train. Sparrows and starlings squawking. Bicycle bells.]
Maddie: So I’ve discovered how to make voice recordings on my phone. I
guess that makes this a self-ethnography. Or something. Maybe it’s just a confession? Whatever. This is weird. I don’t know how you do this, Nita. I don’t know if I’m going to send you this.
[23 seconds of ambient noise and birdsong.]
Maddie: I’m not supposed to—I told you that I can’t talk about this. I’m not supposed to say anything about [garbled] or what happened to...
[Don’t]
Maddie: They stick in my throat, even now, even here. I’m in Daley Plaza because it’s the farthest place I can think of from the woods, from...
[13 seconds of ambient noise. The sound of birds intensifies.]
[say their names.]
Maddie: Nita, you think I want you to give this up because it’s too personal. I don’t. I want you to keep going because it’s personal. It’s been five years since I left and it’s getting harder to stay away, and harder to...
[Maddie coughs harshly.]
Maddie: I...
[The sound of birds and coughing intensifies.]
[Time is...]
Male Voice: Miss? Miss? Are you okay?
Maddie: [Hoarse] I’m fine. Thanks, I’m fine.
Male Voice: Are you sure? You want me to—
Maddie: [Stronger.] Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for—
[Come home.]
Male Voice: What was that?
Maddie: I said that I’m fine.
[Come home.]
[Footsteps.]
[Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come
[End of recording.]
***
Entry 10.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
Maddie: —can’t believe you never heard about this, you’re the one who’s always carrying this thing around.
Nita: Uh, maybe, but they didn’t cover ghost-hunting in Sound Engineering for Dummies.
Maddie: It’s not just for ghosts, it’s for...I dunno. Anything that might have something to say.
Nita: So people just leave the recorder running and...wait?
Maddie: Leave it in an empty room and see what might be willing to speak.
Nita: Spoopy shit.
Maddie: I’m a spoopy girl.
Nita: I know. I like it. Spoopy outlier girl.
[Maddie laughs; the sound is thin, brittle.]
Nita: Now what?
Maddie: Now we leave it. Come back later and see if anything decided to leave us a message.
