The Tragedy of Troy the Computer Scientist.

Last week, Google and the Blacklist Screenwriting Website announced a plan to "fund" the development of scripts centered on changing the image of computer science and computer scientists in pop culture. More info can be found here.

Hey, being in tech and having known my share of computer scientists, I should give it a try. Here is my pitch:

This is Troy. Troy's whole life has been dedicated to the science-ing of the computer, because Troy is, well, a computer scientist, and has been for the last 30 years, and on EVERY given day...

At 6am, Troy is up and at'em engineer, and by 630a he has woofed down a cheddar and spinach omelet and is doing "cardio" on the recumbent bike at his neighborhood YMCA. Troy doesn't want to do weights today, but if he doesn't, he might die (he probably won't really die, he just thinks that he will).

At 745a, Troy is cleaned up, showered, wearing his best polo shirt with his company's logo on it - even though he has a closet full of these shirts, he still identifies one of them as the best. Troy stands in line at Stump's Old Fashioned Coffee Haus (he'd never be caught dead in one of those mermaid coffee places), waiting for his venti triple soy latte. Troy is not actually sure when was the first time that he'd ordered the VTSL, but it's been at least 3 years since the first one passed his lips.

It's now 1030a and Troy has been in his tiny, little cubicle since 815a clearing out his support case load. By 1042a, and after his morning trip to the rest room, Troy fills his metal water bottle with filtered tap always stopping just short of the first thread of the screw on top. At 1045a, Troy rubs his eyes, puts back on his glasses, and troubleshoots more crappy lines of code.

At 1210p, Troy removes a mayo and cheese sandwich from his lunch sack, takes a big bite, forgets to chew, and swallows the gooey white ball of food and fat whole causing it to get caught in his wind pipe. Troy struggles for a breath and feels his head starting to pulse. Oh Crap! This is the end! But the situation is quickly remedied with the helpful guzzle of his RC cola.

At 159p, Troy angrily throws down his headset. His weekly staff call is a major whipping and that rat bastard project manager George just doesn't get coders. Rome wasn't built in a day so why would George think that a javascript backend database connection could be. Damn that George! Project Managers suck!

FRAK THE PAIN! Troy grabs his chest searching his drawer. SCORE! Troy pops a hand full of TUMS in his mouth, and moves on.

Around 312p, Troy is finishing up his daily walk around the largish parking lot, heading down the home stretch across the gap between parking spaces but sees a beat up grey Honda Civic barreling down at him. Troy stops, closes his eyes, waiting for impact.

HERE I COME, ELIZABETH! Troy doesn't really know anyone named Elizabeth but loved "Sanford and Sons" as a boy. The grey Civic stops just short of turning Troy into a Jackson Pollock inspired red concrete stain. The teenage driver looks up from her iPhone, staring Troy down, waiting for him to move.

Troy yells something like "Damn you young whipper snappers with your Britney Spears and Myspace!"

At 515p, Troy races out of his tiny cube, down the long windowless hall by the test lab, across the huge marble floor of the lobby and out into the shade of the fading afternoon sun. Yay! Troy made it. No one talked to him.

By 611p, Troy sits at the large wooden bar of McCool's Irish Pub, working on his 2nd Guinness...

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Coming Soon - The Chronicles of Chris the Chiropractor.

Happy Monday!!!

#writing #nerdstuff #truenottrue