Here’s an exercise assigned by the wonderful Finn Burnett for a class on dialogue during GCLS’s Writing Academy, of which I am a graduate (Class of ’21! Woo hoo! Go Trebuchets!). We had to write a dialogue based on the photo below.
Ruby drained her glass of wine and placed it back on the table with a deep sigh. “I miss the Cold War.”
“You’re crazy.” Jeanine took a big sip of her still half-full glass. Ruby was probably going to order another round as soon as she could catch the server’s eye, and Jeanine did not want to have this conversation yet again without the restorative properties of at least five ounces of an oaky chardonnay in hand. “You’re looking at the past with rose colored glasses, Rube. I have two words for you: panty and hose.”
“The working woman’s wardrobe was not the most comfortable back then,” Ruby conceded. “But remember when we were detailed to that East German think tank? We hit the intel mother lode and were out of there before they even realized their new typists wouldn’t know an umlaut if it punched them in the face.” She shook her head in nostalgic amazement. “So clean. Like clockwork.”
“Okay, that one was a success. But you’re forgetting all the near-disasters. There were a ton of them. Remember being stuck in the wine cellar of that Russian cabinet minister’s dacha for four days, wondering if his coke bender was ever going to end?”
Ruby sat back and crossed her arms. “I look back on that one with a great deal of fondness. At least we were never thirsty. And I remember helping myself to a very fine Chateau Margaux. Not like the swill we drink now.” She sought a waiter for a swill refill.
“Selective memory,” Jeanine said. “You’re conveniently forgetting about how we were left high and dry with no weapons and no extraction plan. It was a suicide mission and we were lucky to get out alive.”
“At least we knew we were alive, Jeanine. The heart pounded, the blood pulsated, and we lived on our wits and long-expired K-rations most of the time. It was thrilling!”
“I’d rather be bored and safe than thrilled and wondering if I was going to die every other minute. We were lucky. Too many of us didn’t live to see the Berlin wall come down.” Jeanine finished her wine. This conversation occurred too many times for her liking. Ruby liked living in her glorified version of the past while Jeanine had grown to love the numbing monotony of retirement.
“Aww, Russia’s up to her old tricks again. They could use a couple of stone cold operatives like us right about now.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“It’s not that crazy. Who’d suspect a couple of little old ladies? We’d be infiltrating the Kremlin in no time.”
“Nuts to that. The game has changed. Now it’s drones and hacking and all that. Today’s operatives wouldn’t know a dead drop from a lemon drop.”
“So we’d need a few lessons. We could learn how to do the hacking. After all, we learned about a thousand different codes.”
“At least we wouldn’t have to wear pantyhose.”
“That’s the spirit!” Ruby banged her fist on the table. “You want to have one more round?”
Jeanine looked around for their server. “Okay, but just one more. My nephew’s coming over later to set me up on the Tik Tok.”
“Oh, do you think he’ll do that for me too?”
“Sure, Mata Hari.” She grinned at her oldest friend in the world. “And after that maybe he’ll teach us the hacking.”