My Bluetooth Shoes. A Mini Play.

by Jason John Bartholomew

A nebish kid at a playground with a wagon. He can be any little outsider…any race. Maybe he has a shock of red, unruly hair or maybe he’s a round, sweaty fat kid. Maybe he’s a she. Oh wait, I know. Maybe he a ten year old you.

Ten year old maybe you, maybe not, is having a little run in with the bigger bullies. The wagon’s been overturned, an atomic wedgie is visible, you, or whoever, is being driven from the playground and it’s obvious that today at least there isn’t much choice in the situation. So there you are packing up your little wagon with the squeaky wheel. I think you remember it went something like this:

“What did you think I was going to do, take my toys and go home?”

(The leader, a much taller kid steps up a little closer)

“Because yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Me and my toys are going home.”

(All packed, you start to pull your little squeaky wagon.)

“But this don’t mean I ain’t coming back tomorrow, so don’t go thinking that.”


“ I’m coming back tomorrow!”


(A little bit away, over the squeak squeak squeak, but not over the shoulder, loud enough to be heard

“Tenacious, bitches, fucking tenacious. Look it up on your cool shoes.”


(Almost out of ear shot, yelling)

“Nobody needs bluetooth in their damn shoes! Not one single body! Nope.”


(Out of sightline, almost echoing)

“I’m coming back tomorrow!”

Oh wait now. Bluetooth in shoes? Ha! Nah. That couldn’t have been you. That’s gotta be some today kid.

Hmmm. Reminds me of you.

Hahahaha. Tenacious, bitches, fucking tenacious, look it up on your shoes… hahaha.

Yeah. That’s you alright.

August 29, 2017)