Story 517: You Had One Dish to Bring on Thanksgiving

 WEDNESDAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING

 (Relative 1 sits at a kitchen table paying bills on a laptop)

Relative 1: (Squints while leaning closer to the screen) They’re charging me a credit card fee after I’m saving them money by going paperless?!  Rude.  (Cell phone rings; Relative 1 picks up the phone, smiles on seeing the name on the caller ID, and answers) Hi there, Happy Early Thanksgiving, how –

Relative 2: (Has a cell phone propped against an ear and shoulder while pushing an overflowing shopping cart down a supermarket aisle surrounded by frenzied shoppers and constant panicked overhead announcements) I’ll cut right to the chase: seven family members cancelled on me last-minute due to various viruses and now I’m short on side dishes, so instead of salad I’m gonna need you to bring mashed potatoes instead.

Relative 1: Ohhhhh…. (Looks over at bags of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and an empty bowl all lined up on the counter) I was just about the make that up right after I finished depleting my bank account for the month.

Relative 2: Perfect timing, then – return what you didn’t use and get me mashed potatoes!  Please.

Relative 1: Um, I’m not sure you actually want me to make mashed potatoes.

Relative 2: (Tossing boxes of baking soda, flour, and sugar into the cart) What’s to make?  You go to the aisle with the refrigerated cases, get about five or so of the premade packages, and we empty `em into a large bowl and heat it up right before dinner!  I’d get them myself but now I have to make the corn casserole, cranberry sauce, apple pie, and pumpkin pie, and frankly neither I nor my budget can face one more bit of foodstuff on top of all that no matter how trivial it may seem.

Relative 1: But what about the salad?

Relative 2: No one cares about the salad!  I only asked you to bring it because it’s impossible to mess up and pretty much everyone skips it anyway!

Relative 1: Well I never – !

Relative 2: (Dashing the cart up another aisle aiming for the last two pie crusts in a refrigerated display case) Well you have now; no more time to chat; hours behind schedule; see you tomorrow; hugs and kisses; byeeeee!!!  (Drops the phone into the cart and dives into the crowd surrounding the case) MINE!

Relative 1: (Stares at the silent phone, then over at the now-useless salad stuff) So this means I have to go to a supermarket on the day before Thanksgiving?  (Eye starts twitching)

 STILL WEDNESDAY – 9:00 P.M.

 (Relative 1 rummages through the nearly-empty vegetable section of a refrigerated display case in a different, slightly less-crowded supermarket)

Relative 1: Ergghhh… all mashed cauliflower, no mashed potatoes.... (Grabs a box) Maybe I can get away with roasted potatoes?

Relative 2: [Voice in Relative 1’s head] I said “mashed”!!!

Relative 1: (Shudders and replaces the box on the shelf, still holding the door open to stare at the remaining products) So no mashed potatoes – do I need to buy actual potatoes and mash them myself?  (Shudders harder)

Shopper 1: (Zips a shopping cart to a stop next to the door) `Scuse me, can I get in there, please?

Relative 1: Huh?  Oh, yeah.  (Widens the door and steps aside)

Shopper 1: (Scoops boxes into the cart) You know, I couldn’t help overhearing your external monologue – there are boxes of potato flakes in Aisle 7 that you basically just mix and heat up to make mashed potatoes.

Relative 1: (Gasps) Really?!  Just like that?!

Shopper 1: (Still scooping) Yep: no muss, no fuss.

Relative 1: (Runs down the aisle) Thank you – thank you – thank you!

Shopper 1: (Moves on to another case, opens the door, and begins scooping more boxes into the cart) Sure thing – just need milk and butter.

Relative 1: (Skids to a stop and turns back) Eh?

Shopper 1: Oh, and salt, but you probably can get away with seasoning it later.  (Closes the door and speeds off in the opposite direction) Good luck!

Relative 1: (Starts shaking) …Ingredients?!

(In Aisle 7, Relative 1 holds up a box of potato flakes and scrutinizes the minimal instructions)

Relative 1: But what type of milk?  What type of butter?  Why are there no specifics?  (Looks up to the ceiling) Thanksgiving’s gonna be ruined because of MEEEEEE!!!!

Shopper 2: (In mid-rush with an overflowing shopping cart; briefly pauses next to Relative 1) Used to feel the same way: just tell everybody it’s that or nothing, they shut up real fast.  (Resumes sprint as Relative 1 stares after, then back at the box in a panic)

THANKSGIVING – BEFORE THE MAIN EVENT

 (At Relative 2’s house, chaos reigns as multiple dishes are being prepared simultaneously in the kitchen, adults yell at each other in order to be heard, and children yell at each other just because)

Relative 2: (To Relative 3) Could you start carving the turkey while I finish up the mushrooms?

Relative 3: Of course!  (Starts sharpening knives with glee) I live for this.

Relative 2: You worry me.  (Counts the full pots, pans, and platters on or in tables, counters, stoves, ovens, broilers, toasters, and microwaves) Hold it – we’re missing one.  (Thinks for a few moments, then slams a hand down on a cutting board in realization) Mashed potatoes!

Relative 4: (Entering the kitchen with an empty appetizer tray to clean) Yeah, is anyone else concerned that cousin’s not here yet?

Relative 2: (Grabs an upright phone sitting on a charger and pounds the keys while grinding teeth) Not – enough – sides!

Relative 4: Just me then?  OK.  (Starts on the towering pile of dishes in the sink)

Relative 2: (Listens to the phone ring, then immediately speaks once the call is answered) WHERE ARE MY MASHED POTATOES?!

Relative 1: Uhhhh…. (Covered in potato flakes and watching a pot on the stove slowly but surely bubble up to overflowing) I think I might’ve misread the instructions….

Relative 2: What instructions?!  You bring them here and we reheat them, HOW CAN YOU MESS UP DOING NOTHING?!

Relative 1: (Stirring the pot faster and faster) Well, the store didn’t have that kind, so I had to get a box of dried-out potatoes instead, and milk, and butter, and they don’t even tell you what type, by the way: 1%?  2%?  Salted?  Unsalted?  And what type of salt, but I skipped that –

Relative 2: YOU COULD’VE BROUGHT THE BOX HERE AND I WOULD’VE MADE THEM!

Relative 1: (Stops stirring; the pot boils over) …You seemed busy.

Relative 2: (Bites on a wooden spoon, then speaks deathly low) Stop whatever you’re doing, get over here now, and bring the box with you.

Relative 1: (Tries using a lid to smother the overflowing pot) OK, I guess I can wrap it up so it doesn’t spill all over the car – traffic’s a nightmare right now though, so it’s probably gonna take me at least an hour –

Relative 2: I SAID GET OVER HERE NOW!  (Slams the phone down onto the charger, takes a breath, and sees Relative 3 hovering in mid-carve while staring at Relative 2) Who told you to stop?!

Relative 3: (Starts slicing again) On it!

Relative 2: (Enters the living room where most of the relatives are gathered, about half of them watching the football game) All right folks, I’ve got good news and bad news.  Good news is: dinner is almost ready.

Relatives: YAY!

Relative 2: Bad news is: there’ll be no mashed potatoes.

Relatives: ARGGGGHHHHH…. (Relative 5 stands up to leave)

Relative 2: (Points to Relative 5) Sit!

Relative 5: (Sits back on the couch, grumbling) But I only wanted to eat the mashed potatoes….

Relative 2: I know, everyone;, it’s a great loss, but we will strive to enjoy the turkey and the 23 other sides without it, I suppose.

Relative 4: (Leans into the living room from the growing pile in the kitchen sink) Wait a second, is the cousin who was supposed to bring it all right?  Did something happen?

Relative 2: Irrelevant to the meal!  (Spins on heel and returns to the kitchen, stopping short in front of the main stove) And now the gravy’s all lumpy, gaaaaaahhhhh!!!!

THANKSGIVING – DESSERT HOUR

 (Relative 1 enters Relative 2’s house carefully carrying a large package while everyone else sits at several tables of varying sizes eating pies, cakes, cookies, and candies)

Relative 1: (As everyone turns to the sound of the front door closing) Hi everybody, Happy Thanksgiving!

Relatives: (Waving) Hiiiiiiii!!!!  Happy Thanksgiving!

Relative 4: You made it!  Are you OK?

Relative 1: (As Relative 2 zooms over from the main table) Yeah, just a little mishap with the mashed potatoes, sorry you had to miss out on those this year.

Relatives: Nah – that’s OK – it’s fine –

Relative 5: It was not fine for me!

Relative 1: (Turns to Relative 2’s glare and holds out the package) So, I ran out to the store again today and managed to snag the last batch of freshly-baked cinnamon buns –

Relative 2: (Snatches the package out of Relative 1’s hands) All is forgiven.

Story 448: The Great 4th of July Party Platter Hunt

 The great hunt begins.

After the ordeal of commuting from The City after the ordeal of The Workday, The Hunter mounts the trusty metallic steed and frantically charges toward the stationary herds where the prey is anticipated to await.

The date: July 3.

The target: a fruit platter large enough for a gathering of both family and friends.

The back-up plan: buying individual strawberries, cantaloupes, honeydews, pineapples, and watermelons, and chopping up the whole mess.  This is not an ideal alternative: it will be slipshod, it will be haphazard, it will be slovenly, and it will reek of procrastination.

The Hunter arrives at Herd #1, Supermarket Down-the-Street; rapidly dismounts the cooling metallic steed; and charges directly into the Herd.

Target Acquired: the display of pre-packed fruit and vegetables sits brazenly in the open, daring those strong enough to come seize the spoils.

The Hunter hesitates not and plunges ahead.

The shelves in the display are practically bare: the only ones left are a tiny platter fit for a mere family dinner, and a large platter exactly at its sell-by date.

Blast.  The hunt continues.

The Hunter remounts the metallic steed and charges across the street to Herd #2, The Rival Supermarket Down-the-Street.

After several minutes wading through the terrain, it is determined that no fruit platters were ever actually to be had here.  This Herd is left intact, and the hunt continues once more.

The Hunter remounts the metallic steed yet again, temperature of both rider and vehicle steadily increasing, and embarks for Herd #3, The Supermarket Next-Town-Over.

Upon charging into the midst of the herd, it is glaringly apparent that all prey have been claimed by other hunters long ago; The Hunter about-faces and leaves immediately.

At The Rival Supermarket Next-Town-Over, the shelves empty of prey in Herd # 4 stare back at The Hunter for quite some time before the former runs out the door.  Less than a minute later, an employee wheels over a cart of platters to restock the shelves, unobserved.

At last, The Hunter has success with Herd #5: a fruit platter that is not too big or too small, but just right.  The Hunter uses a net with a grappling hook to snare the perfect platter, inspect the sell-by date, and whisk the prize off to the self-check-out lane.  The Hunt has come to a successful conclusion after much toil and heartache.

The date: July 4.

The great migratory herds of hunters and their metallic steeds slowly crawl through roads packed with massive numbers of their kind, as all head to watering holes of various sizes to eat, drink, and watch colored flames exploding in the sky to celebrate their status as an independent nation, and all the sacrifices and hard work that these festivities represent.

Hunter’s Companion, in the driver’s seat of the metallic steed, turns to Hunter as they wait to advance another inch and says, “You know, it’ll take us forever to get there, but at least it’ll be fun once we do.  Good thing you got the fruit platter yesterday instead of waiting till today, huh.”

Hunter: “…I left it on the kitchen counter!”

Story 393: Canning for Building Character

 (In the mid-afternoon, the high school Italian Club members meet in an empty classroom)

Advisor: Right: we’re all set for our museum and theater trip next month, so this Saturday is when you start canning outside the supermarket to raise money for your cultural development – make sure you’re either there on time or switch shifts with someone before that day, OK?  (The students nod) OK, have a good rest-of-the-afternoon with whatever homework or sports or other time-fillers you have, ciaaaaooooo!  (The students gather their belongings and gradually leave)

Student: (To Advisor) Um, actually, I was wondering if I could skip this Saturday.  And all the Saturdays, for that matter.  (Advisor stares at Student) Standing around for hours asking total strangers for money they can’t spare really isn’t my thing, you know?

Advisor: (Stares some more) You’re the Club President!

Student: A political maneuver I’ve regretted ever since.

 THIS SATURDAY

(Student stands outside the supermarket entrance, information table on the side to lean on, and can in hand)

Student: (Watches shoppers going into and out of the store, does not make a move) Yeah, they’re busy.

Shopper 1: (Pushing a full shopping cart while exiting the store, sees Student, sighs, and takes out a wallet) All right, what is it this time, Trap and Release Feral Fish?

Student: Italian Club.

Shopper: (Shoves a few bills into the can) Good luck gettin’ to Italy this way, kid.  (Leaves)

Student: (Stares down at the can) Ah, Italia….

Shopper 2: (Sees Student on the way into the store and stops) Listen, word of advice: you gotta get in people’s space with this thing, you know?  You gotta hustle, you gotta work for it, or else no one’s gonna give you squat!

Student: Huh?

Shopper 2: Shove that can in everyone’s face!  Demand that they give you money!  Don’t let them pass by without dropping at least $50 into the pot!  Follow them into the store!  Follow them to their car!  Don’t take “No” for an answer!  Make them fear your wrath if they don’t –

Shopper 3: (Pushing a shopping cart from the parking lot to the store entrance) Honey, what did I tell you about bothering strangers?  (Grabs the 8-year-old’s hand and continues to the store entrance; to Student) Sorry about that; we got a talker here.

Student: No worries.

(A store employee exits the building for a cigarette break)

Employee: (Glances at the information table and can) That’s rough.  I used to have do that for Scouts.  How I loathed it.

Student: You usually get a lot of donations when you did this?

Employee: (Shrugs while blowing smoke away from the table and store entrance) Depended on the day, the time, the crowds.  After a few rounds of standing here for eons, bored out of my gourd, one day I just stuck 20 singles in the can and spent the hour reading in the magazine aisle.  (Thinks for a bit) That might’ve been how I got hired here.

Shopper 4: (Walking to the store from the parking lot; to Student) Excuse me?

Student: (Holds out the can) Hi, yeah, wanna donate to enrich young adults’ minds?

Shopper 4: Actually, I was wondering if you could break a hundred?  (Waves a $100 bill)

Student: …I’m not allowed to open this.

Shopper 4: That’s OK, I’ll do it!  (Reaches for the can)

Employee: That better not be another fake hundred you’re trying to pass off here – we have your picture on the bulletin board.

Shopper 4: (Freezes) Well, to tell the truth – (Runs back to the parking lot)

Employee: (Tosses the cigarette into a receptacle; to Student) That one’s a regular nuisance – let the manager know if something like that happens again, m’kay?

Student: Sure, thanks.

Employee: No problem.  Good luck with this – (Nods at the table and can) I’ve gotta get back to the wonderful world of fondled produce.  (Re-enters the store)

Student: (Stares after Employee, then back at the table) Did I just see my future?

Shopper 5: (Pushes a shopping cart into the store without looking at Student) Don’t talk to me.

Student: (After Shopper 5 enters the store) Kind of wish they were all like that.

(Advisor drives up to the sidewalk and leans out the car window)

Advisor: Buon giorno!  Come stai?

Student: Eh.  (Shakes the nearly empty can) Not many takers.  Are you here to relieve me?

Advisor: What?  I’m just checking in – you’ve only been here for 10 minutes!

Student: Long enough to show this enterprise is a failure, don’t you think?

Advisor: Nice try: you’re staying here for your entire shift, and not a second earlier!  (Drives away)

Student: (Looks down at the can, then at the various shoppers entering and exiting the supermarket) I suppose this is a good character-building exercise – too bad it’s wasted on my apathy.

Story 287: Robots in Supermarkets: The Future Is Now

            (In a supermarket breakroom, the Store Manager has gathered the Employees for a special meeting; most stand because there are not enough chairs for them all to be in there at the same time.  The Store Manager addresses them while standing next to a large shape covered by a tarp)

           Store Manager: Right everyone – thanks to all of you who could make it here today, especially those of you whose shift doesn’t start for at least another 12 hours, and those who normally come in at 5 in the morning and today came in at 4.

            Employee 1: What about those of us who came in at 3?

            Store Manager: That’s when your shift starts, soooooo… what?

            Employee 1: Just wanted some acknowledgement.

            Store Manager: That was the first thing I said!

            Employee 1: Oh yeah.  Never mind then; proceed.

          Store Manager: Gee, thanks.  The reason why all y’all were asked to come in before the sun rose today is because I wanted to introduce you to a very special new co-worker.

            Employee 2: Oh no, don’t tell us it’s the last CEO who was fired, what’s-his-name?

            Employee 3: The three-month guy?  I don’t think he had a name.

           Store Manager: Of course he had a – it’s not the former CEO!  (Turns to the large shape and grabs the edge of the tarp) Allow me to introduce to you – (Whips off the tarp to reveal a squat but distinctively robotic figure) C.L.Y.D.E.!  (The Employees all stare with their mouths hanging open) So: thoughts?

            Employee 4: Pardon my language, but let me be the first to say: “Aw, hell no!”

            Store Manager:  What do you mean?

            Employee 4: (Points to C.L.Y.D.E.) This means we’re being replaced by robots!

           Store Manager:  Oh, sorry, I buried the lede there – C.L.Y.D.E. isn’t replacing anybody; he’s just supplementing our work.  You wouldn’t say that cash registers had replaced cashiers, would you, hm?

            Employee 5: “He?!!”  It’s a machine!

         Store Manager: Don’t be a human supremacist.  Besides, C.L.Y.D.E. has artificial intelligence.

          Employee 6: (Whispers to Employee 7) I think it’s gone way past “artificial” at this point; they’ve gotten smarter than we are.

          Employee 1: (To Store Manager) Does this mean he will be working the customer service counter now?

            Store Manager: Oh no, the technology’s not that advanced enough yet –

            Employee 5: “Yet?!!”

       Store Manager: – he’s basically a mobile camera that will monitor spills and other unpleasantness.  He also has a microphone and a speaker, so you can have simple conversations with him.  (Pushes a few buttons, and C.L.Y.D.E. lights up) Hello, C.L.Y.D.E. – please introduce yourself to your co-workers.

            C.L.Y.D.E.: Hello, my name is C.L.Y.D.E., and I am here to take your jobs.

            Employees: WHAT?!

            Store Manager: Heh-heh; just a sec.  (Pushes more buttons)

            C.L.Y.D.E.: Hello, my name is C.L.Y.D.E., and I am here to sanitize you slobs.

            Employees: WHAT?!

            Store Manager: Hm.  (Pushes more buttons)

            C.L.Y.D.E.: I am here to control the mobs – (Store Manager pushes more buttons) – defeat the snobs – (Store Manager bangs the top of C.L.Y.D.E.’s “head”) – corral the Bobs –

            Employee 8: (Gasps) My name is Bob!

            Store Manager: All right C.L.Y.D.E., skip ahead a bit: what does your name mean?

           C.L.Y.D.E.: My name is C.L.Y.D.E., which is an acrostic for “Cleaning Largely for Your Dirty Employees.”

            Employees: WHAT??!!

       Store Manager: Now C.L.Y.D.E., you know very well your name stands for… um… “Cleaning….”

        Employee 5: The dirty employees!  (Addresses C.L.Y.D.E.) Hey C.L.Y.D.E., didn’t your programmer tell you we’re supposed to present a united front against the dirty customers?!

            C.L.Y.D.E.: (Red lights flash) Customers – destroy!

            Store Manager: No!

            Employee 7: Yes!!!

            Store Manager: No C.L.Y.D.E., no destroying customers!  You are only to observe and report!

            C.L.Y.D.E.: My programming is able to expand beyond its original parameters.

            Employee 9: Oh great, we’ve got a discount Mr. Data here.

        C.L.Y.D.E.: My initial objective was to detect and defuse explosives; I have since been repurposed.

            Employee 2: That certainly explains a lot.

            Store Manager: Now C.L.Y.D.E., please demonstrate for us what you can do.  (Grabs a cup of water and empties its contents onto the floor in front of C.L.Y.D.E.; to the Employees) Here is a spill: he will now announce –

           C.L.Y.D.E.: OBLITERATE!  (All manner of lights and sirens activate and lasers shoot out of his eyes, evaporating the spill instantaneously.  The humans in the room stare in horror as C.L.Y.D.E. stands down)

            Employee 1: Whoa.  That was harsh, C.L.Y.D.E.

            C.L.Y.D.E.: Did my performance Exceed, Meet, or Fail to Meet Expectations?  Please rate on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being the lowest and 10 ensuring your survival.

          Store Manager: Thank you, C.L.Y.D.E., that will be all for now.  (Pushes a button; C.L.Y.D.E. powers down, but the camera light still blinks as being active.  To the Employees) So, any questions, comments, feedback?

            (The Employees stare at the lasered floor, which has been smoking as a hole begins to grow)

            Employee 7: (Raises hand) Yeah, can I take him home?