Nothing for Thanks

November 21, my lines for the role of Thing Who Must Do the Shopping begin with,

Me: Look at this fucking list. Gluten-free pie crust? Are you fucking serious? … goddamn Whole Foods, then, I guess … look at this parking … shit … evil capitalist monster disguised as a hippie co-op … on principle I’m only getting one thing here.

Then the scene where I park two blocks away and march toward Whole Foods, through the doors, into the bakery.

Me: Excuse me, do you have (mumbles) gluten-free pie crust?

Bakery Clerk: Yes. Here. Have a good one!

Me: Uh, you too. (under breath:) Poor stooge. Hope they pay you enough to keep the lights on. Off to goddamn Gelson’s, now … goddamn Gelson’s, I know, I know! But it’s not quite as expensive as Whole Paycheck, and it’s not (shudders) Ralphs. At least there’s fewer children screaming in Spanish at Gelson’s …

In the Gelson’s parking lot, my big scene with the disoriented old woman, her purse upended on the hood of a Mercedes, clutching keys, holding them out to me:

Old Lady: Do you drive a Toyota?

Me: Uh …

Old Lady: Can you get this car open? It’s a rental and I don’t know how to get in.

Me: Ma’am, this car appears to be a Mercedes.

Old Lady: Well, it’s gray!

Me: Yes, it is. There’s a gray Toyota right here, is that yours?

Old Lady: Well, does that key open the door?

Me: Let’s see. Yes, it does.

Old Lady: I knew you’d help me out!

Me: Happy Thanksgiving.

Old Lady: What?

Me: Happy holidays.

Old Lady: That’s not what you said.

Me: Happy Thanksgiving.

Old Lady: Happy What?

Me: It’s Thanksgiving tomorrow.

Old Lady: I know! Isn’t this traffic ridiculous?

Me: Yes, ma’am.

Next, my dramatic interaction with the Gelson’s staff:

Me (angrily, already defeated): Do you have (various items)?

Every Gelson’s Employee (politely, cheerfully): Yes! Here you go.

Me: Uh, thank you. (under breath) How much for a steak? Seriously? What did you feed the cow, fucking platinum? Jesus, goddamn Von’s, now, I guess … is that old lady still out here? Nope, she made it out of the lot … I probably should have taken her keys away. She kills somebody on Washington, it’s my fault … light’s green, motherfucker, let’s GO.

It’s all been building to the heartfelt moment when I walk up to Von’s:

Bum: Hey man, you got a dollar?

Me: Buddy, I got nothing.

Bum: Okay.

Me: Alright, here’s a dollar.

Bum: Hey, thanks.

Me: You’re welcome.

Salvation Army Homeless Drunk with a Bell and a Red Pot: God bless you.

Me: Yeah. Here.

Salvation Army Homeless Drunk with a Bell and a Red Pot: God bless you.

Me: I still have to go to work.

Then, my poignant closing monologue on the drive home:

Me: Gotta put all these fucking groceries away … not gonna be any room in the vegetable bin for those string beans … do I have time to go to the bank?

my review of SeaGlass Theatre’s A Christmas Twist

Filed Under: Featuredjason rohrerPonderings


Jason Rohrer About the Author: Jason Rohrer's education includes New York University's Tisch School of the Arts, the Nikitsky Gates Theater in Moscow, Russia, the National Academy for Theater and Film Arts in Sofia, Bulgaria, and Village Oaks School in Stockton, California. He reviews film, theater, dance, and music for He tweets as @RohrerWrites. He is less intelligent than he thinks, but then, he would have to be.

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  1. Tracey Paleo says:

    There must be an app for that somewhere…lol