Another Hardboiled Story . . . beginning
Ok, Hardboiled is an aquired taste. Here a scene, in the hardboiled vien, without the graphic violence. I wrote this yesterday. It's a scene that I will fit into a short story or the novel. I am actually using the short story to develope my novel characters. Detective Harry Beam, is a Detroit homicide detective that is a minor character in my novel. What do you think?
The Deposit
“Let me get this straight, you want me to take this cup back into the procedure room, jerk off in it, and bring it back to you?” Harry asked, as he held a plastic cup, about the size of a shot glass, up in front of the nurse’s face.
“Yes, that’s correct.” The nurse raised her eyebrows and said, “You and your wife have been trying to have a child for two years. She’s checked out fine. Now it’s your turn.”
“Uh, you know I’m a police officer?” He said as he could feel his face get hot and flush.
“Yes, Mr. Beam, I know you are, but does that mean you don’t masturbate?” This she said with a smile. She seemed to be enjoying this now.
“I er, . . . um,”
“In a recent national medical study it was reported that 95% of males and 89% of female Americans do. Are you one of the 5% Mr. Beam?” She said with obvious pleasure.
“Look, I um, … think I need a bigger cup.”
“Make do.” She said with a nod and a grimace.
“Can I get some help? I mean….”
She reached under the nurse’s station counter, pulled out a well-worn copy of Big Beaver magazine, and handed it to him.
“I uh,. . . not exactly the type of help I meant.”
“Mr. Beam, I have other patients to see. As Woody Allen once said ‘Hey, don’t knock masturbation, it’s sex with someone.’ ” She turned on her heals and walked away.
Bewildered, Harry stood for a moment, sighed, and slowly walked towards the procedure room like a man on death row - heading for the chair.
The Deposit
“Let me get this straight, you want me to take this cup back into the procedure room, jerk off in it, and bring it back to you?” Harry asked, as he held a plastic cup, about the size of a shot glass, up in front of the nurse’s face.
“Yes, that’s correct.” The nurse raised her eyebrows and said, “You and your wife have been trying to have a child for two years. She’s checked out fine. Now it’s your turn.”
“Uh, you know I’m a police officer?” He said as he could feel his face get hot and flush.
“Yes, Mr. Beam, I know you are, but does that mean you don’t masturbate?” This she said with a smile. She seemed to be enjoying this now.
“I er, . . . um,”
“In a recent national medical study it was reported that 95% of males and 89% of female Americans do. Are you one of the 5% Mr. Beam?” She said with obvious pleasure.
“Look, I um, … think I need a bigger cup.”
“Make do.” She said with a nod and a grimace.
“Can I get some help? I mean….”
She reached under the nurse’s station counter, pulled out a well-worn copy of Big Beaver magazine, and handed it to him.
“I uh,. . . not exactly the type of help I meant.”
“Mr. Beam, I have other patients to see. As Woody Allen once said ‘Hey, don’t knock masturbation, it’s sex with someone.’ ” She turned on her heals and walked away.
Bewildered, Harry stood for a moment, sighed, and slowly walked towards the procedure room like a man on death row - heading for the chair.
