Monday, 4 February 2013
I’ve just placed a £2.36 bid on Ebay for Al Pacino's voice. It has been burned onto CD. The cover of the CD is a montage of iconic Al Pacino stills. The CD will be posted out to the lucky winner; first class. My bid is currently winning. I am being cautious. I am checking my bid repeatedly. I am adding an extra 2p to my bid. My bid is now £2.38. I am 8 minutes and 34 seconds away from owning Al Pacino's voice.
I am reading the description of Al Pacino's voice, again. I am closing my eyes and I am hearing the street wise syllables of this Italian-American. I am imagining him stood behind me; he is whispering sweet nothings into my ear. He is so cool. He is Al Pacino. He is better than you and me. He is an Academy Award winner. And he has the coolest, voice, ever.
My bid has been beaten. It has been beaten by someone who goes by the name of alpacinoslover1982. I imagine alpacinoslover1982 is probably a bit like me. She is from a town just like the one I grew up in. She brushes her teeth as aggressively as I do. She has bitten away all the skin around her nails, it is pink and sore, she is biting them particularly aggressively now, she is apprehensive that I will beat her bid. I am bidding £2.68. I have placed 10p more than her bid.
She has made her finger bleed.
I am picturing Al Pacino as Carlito Brigante. He is playing pool. I am stood by the jukebox in the corner of the room. He is throwing looks my way. He is calling me, "His girl".
I am making space for Al Pacino's voice on my bedside table. The space is next to a signed photo of Pacino. I have drawn a thought bubble on the photo. He is thinking about me.
I’m getting scared that alpacinoslover1982 is going to beat my bid so I increase my bid to £16.98. There are only 3 minutes 14 seconds left until I can call Pacino's voice mine.
I am thinking about lying in bed and listening to Al Pacino sending me to sleep. I am enjoying his intonations, his clarity, and his charisma. I am holding my picture of him tight to my chest. I am apologising for not realising how amazing he is sooner. I am vowing to make up for lost time.
There is only 1 minute and 23 seconds left to bid. I am winning. My palms are sweaty. I am gazing at the monitor with a look of longing. My screensaver is a still from Heat, it is a big close up of Al Pacino, and I have tiled it across my screen.
I am only 47 seconds away from owning Al Pacino's voice. I am carving Pacino into my flesh with a compass I have dug out from my high school maths set. I am wiping the blood away. I am satisfied with my handiwork. I am wondering what Pacino would say. Maybe he would be lost for words.
That bitch alpacinoslover1982 has just placed a bid of £67.62. I want to scratch her face and bite her nose. I want to kick her shins and jump on her toes. Instead, I place a bid of £112.18. I am feeling smug. I am proposing a toast to Pacino. I am writing an acceptance speech. I am 8 seconds away from being victorious.
I am watching the seconds pass by. I have stopped breathing. There are 3 seconds to go. 2 seconds. 1 second.
Alpacinoslover1982. She bids £459.87.
I am not breathing.
I am going blue in the face.
I am stabbing the compass in my eyes.
I am banging my head against my desk.
I am wrapping the telephone wire around my neck.
You are reading about me in the papers. You are reading about that Pacino fanatic. You are telling your friends the story. You are remembering the story each time you watch a film with Pacino in it. You have left a Pacino tribute at my grave.
You are alpacinoslover1982. You have never paid for Al Pacino's voice. You have been given a strike by Ebay. You. Are. A. Bitch.