Captain Zero - Episode 1
TOMMY LEBLOND
My name is Tommy. Tommy Leblond. I’m a nobody. I’m an average, mediocre, white male who’s merely drifted through my life with no ups, no down… just cruising unseen, unnoticed, with no substance or texture. I’m the human equivalent of a Q-Tip. No one really knows if it’s really useful. No one really cares about the brand or characteristics. No one even really cares if their ear are clean. We use Q-tips out of habits, just because it’s something that needs being done. No one expect new colors… it’s been the same forever… no one anywhere is trying to invent the next revolutionary Q-Tip. It’s probably the most overlooked item in your home. I’d trade to be the human toilet paper. Because people care when they get you. They care enormously. They care about every aspect of toilet paper. Remember the panic at the beginning of the Pandemic? No one stock piled Q-Tips. But oh boy, did that toilet paper seem vital in the midst of an unknown virus outbreak! We mind every thing about toilet paper. The texture, the thickness, the price, the color… And in that one last moment before you dispose of it as the most disdained, most repugnant proof of our condition, right before being flushed into the abyss, you go with a bang! You’ve fulfilled the most intimate, secretive and sensitive role amongst any household product! You are crucial! But not the Q-Tip.
No one dislikes me of course. No one hates me or taunts me or bullies me. I’d need to have texture and some sort of relevance to trigger that kind of reaction. I’d see some light in the eye of people who look at me or some vibration in the voice of people who talk about me… but no. I’m never worried about gossip or people talking about me behind my back. I’m a non-subject, a non-entity. Truth is even I bore myself. Sometimes when I talk, there is a voice in my head that screams “shut up!”. When I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a grey blur of mediocrity. If I were a body part I’d be the fold behind your knee between your calf and your hamstring. You never see it. You probably never wash it either. Tell the truth! When was the last time you really passed your bar of soap there and scrubbed? I’m sure you don’t remember and honestly, who gives a shit? Even when wearing short clothes, a skirt or a pair of shorts, no one pays attention to that part. Who ever talks about it? It ought to be the least discussed part of the body ever. People constantly talk about stomach, legs, chest, about asses and waste line, about faces, hairs, about arms, shoulders, hands… Even elbows get more attention. But when’s the last time you heard someone mention the fold behind their knees or anyone else’s? Never that’s when.
I felt myself fading and got depressed so I went to see a shrink. I made an appointment, showed up at the office on time and was told by the receptions that I wasn’t on the schedule. I told her to double check, Thomas J Leblond that’s L-E-B-L-O-N-D… “Ah sorry she said, I was looking for Smith”.
I got into the room. The therapist was busy writing on a notepad, so I sat down in front of her and waited. She lifted her gaze and looked at me a couple of seconds before returning to her writing. I didn’t want to interrupt her. Seconds turned into minutes. Until it became weird. Ten minutes in I thought it might be part of her therapy process. At the fifteen-minute mark I felt too embarrassed to speak first. Half an hour went by. Then suddenly she put the cap back on her ink pen, and smiled looking at her notes, seemingly satisfied with what she had written. I could tell she was done. Then her gaze slowly rose to me and… “Oh hello”. I replied “hello” with the same flat tone, trying to hide my embarrassment and annoyance, not wanting to make her feel bad, then feeling supremely annoyed that this would be my concern.
“I’m sorry I have an appointment, have you made an appointment?”. This was surreal!
“I am your appointment” I replied struggling to contain my annoyance.
“Oh, and what’s your name?”
“Thomas Leblond”. She took a minute looking at her computer screen, clicked a few times, typed a few keys and said:
“I have no appointment with a Leblond, I have an appointment with a Smith”.