Story 604: What Really Goes On At The Back Of An Orchestra

           (In a large concert hall, orchestra members take their positions at music stands stationed throughout a stage behind closed curtains, as the audience members file in to take their seats on the other side)

Percussionist 1: (Rushes in from stage right, clutching sheet music tightly and squeezing around timpani, xylophones, bass drums, tubular bells, snare drums, and a table full of tambourines and other handheld instruments) Excuse me – pardon me – excuse me – (Almost knocks a triangle off the table) so sorry – (Stops on seeing a group of three musicians, seated in a circle on the floor between a set of large cymbals and a gong, playing cards; all three had stopped and have been staring at Percussionist 1) Hello.

Percussionist 2: (Wearing a green visor) Hi.  You the replacement percussionist for tonight?

Percussionist 1: Oh yes, I was called in just this afternoon – (Steps forward and sticks out a hand for Percussionist 2 to shake, then quickly snatches it back when no reciprocating hand appears) I was told there was a last-minute call-out, and could I fill in at the concert tonight, so of course I immediately cancelled the wisdom tooth removal I was supposed to have done late today and came right over!

Percussionist 2: Hm, yeah, appreciate it.  You play?

Percussionist 1: Oh, um, yes, pretty much everything here – (Wave arms to encompass the array of instruments at the back of the orchestra) except not so much those – (Points to the tubular bells) but I can figure them out if –

Percussionist 2: I meant poker.  (Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 hold up their cards to demonstrate)

Percussionist 1: Oh!  No.  Sorry.

Percussionist 2: Then have a seat.  (Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 scooch along the floor to make a space in the circle) You’d better learn fast, else this’ll be a long night.

Percussionist 1: (Hesitatingly walks over, sets down the sheet music, and sits in the new space)) Ohhhh-kaaaay, but shouldn’t I really be taking this time to practice the music for tonight?

(Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 stare blankly at Percussionist 1)

Percussionist 2: A little late for that now, isn’t it?

Percussionist 1: Well, yes, but I was called in last-minute –

Percussionist 2: So you said.

Percussionist 3: Wouldn’t want the audience coming in to hear a bunch of ruckus going on behind the curtains, would you?

Percussionist 4: I sure wouldn’t.

Percussionist 1: No, but I just got the music now and would have to go in cold, so to speak.

Percussionist 2: (Leans in toward Percussionist 1) This your first real professional orchestral performance?

Percussionist 1: (Laughs nervously) Is it that obvious?

Percussionists 2, 3, and 4: Yes.

Percussionist 1: Oh.  Well, I’ve played in every school concert ever, and while I wasn’t the first – or second – or third choice for this, my instructor felt I’ve had enough experience to step in as a back-up for tonight.

Percussionist 3: You’re a student?!

Percussionist 1: …Wassss that not mentioned earlier?

Percussionist 4: And not even top of your class?

Percussionist 1: (Looks down, embarrassed) No.  Just the only one available on such short notice.

(Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 look at each other, then back at Percussionist 1)

Percussionist 2: I think you’ll do nicely. 

Percussionist 1: (Looks up suddenly) Huh?

Percussionist 3: All you need to do is hit things back here, and everyone out there loves it.

Percussionist 4: And if you mess up, they’ll never know, and what’s anybody gonna do about it, huh?

Percussionists 2, 3, and 4: NOTHIN’!  (They high five each other)

Percussionist 1: (Deals in Percussionist 1) Now, pay attention to the cards and forget the sheet music…. 

TWENTY MINUTES LATER 

(Conductor emerges from backstage)

Conductor: (To the chatting orchestra members) At the ready, everyone!  We’re on in a minute!  (Exits to prepare for the official entrance)

(The orchestra members straighten up in their positions and focus on their instruments and music as the audience outside applauds the entrance of the evening’s host)

Percussionist 2: (Takes the cards from the others as all four stand; whispering) Whelp, that’s our cue.

Percussionist 1: (Whispering while scrambling to stand) What, this is it?!  I’m nowhere near ready!

Percussionist 3: (Whispering) Kid, no one ever is.  (Lightly slaps Percussionist 1 on the shoulder and takes position at the multiple xylophones)

Percussionist 2: (Whispering to Percussionist 1 while moving the latter to the gong) For this piece, just hit the gong when the conductor points to you.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) That’s it?!

Percussionist 2: (Whispering while taking position near all the drums) Oh yeah, it’s only about two or three times, no sweat.

(A muffled voice is heard from the other side of the curtains, introducing the orchestra and program for the night)

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) Well which is it, two or three?!

Percussionist 2: (Whispering while taking off the visor and tossing it away somewhere) I dunno, check the sheet music.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering while head zips from side-to-side looking all around the floor) Where did it go?!

Percussionist 4: (Whispers to Percussionist 1 from the tubular bells) Don’t even worry about it – it’s not as if the conductor’s gonna stop the entire performance cold and yell at you for missing your cue or anything.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) Oh no?!  I’ve seen it happen!

Percussionist 4: (Whispering) Oh wow, that must’ve been really awkward.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) That’s putting it mildly!

Percussionist 2: (Casually leaning on the timpani while handing over the found sheet music and whispering to Percussionist 1) Relax, you’ve got this – just don’t mess up and you’ll be fine.

Percussionist 1: [Strangled cry]

Percussionist 2: (Whispering) Or mess up – no one really cares that much.

Percussionist 1: [Gulps]

Euphonium Player: (Seated in front of the percussion section, turns around and loudly whispers) Could you all knock it off!  Show’s gonna begin in about five seconds!

Percussionist 2: (Loudly whispering) Oh please, everyone out there is barely aware your instrument even exists.

Euphonium Player: (Loudly whispering) You’d all miss me if I was gone!  (Turns back around in a huff)

(Curtains are drawn back as the audience applauds again and Conductor enters from stage right, smiling and bowling, then takes place at the podium, signals for most of the orchestra members to tune up, then raises and lowers arms to begin the concert.  Several minutes into the first piece, a flask is unobtrusively passed from Percussionist 4 to Percussionist 2, who both temporarily hide behind the tubular bells to take a swig; Percussionist 2 then holds it below the audience’s sight line toward Percussionist 1, whose eyes widen in shock at Percussionist 2)

Percussionist 2: (Sets down the flask and signs below the sight line between drumbeats) M – I – L – K – S – H – A – K – E

Percussionist 1: (Signing below the sight line) G – E – R – M – S

Percussionist 2: (During a pause in beats) S – U – I – T – Y – O – U – R – S – E – L – F  (Picks up the flask again and gestures that Percussionist 1 should pass it to Percussionist 3; Percussionist  1 does so, holding the flask low with two fingers in distaste as Percussionist 3 snatches it between xylophone beats)

(Conductor points grandly to Percussionist 1, who mightily swings a mallet at the gong)

Percussionist 2: (Signing after the gong stops reverberating) G – O – O – D – J – O – B

Percussionist 1: (Whole body still shaking from the blow, gives a trembling, low thumbs-up) 

FORTY MINUTES LATER 

(Percussionist 1 now is stationed at the table with the smaller instruments, holding the triangle and beater and straining to read the sheet music as the entire orchestra plays in triple time, when suddenly there is a split-second lull)

Transistor Radio: (Plugged into Percussionist 2’s ear with the volume raised to maximum) Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded –

Percussionist 1: Huh?  (Looks toward Percussionist 2)

Percussionist 2: (Rapidly beating the snare drums, tosses off a quick) Ssh!  (in Percussionist 1’s direction)

Percussionist 1: (Flabbergasted, turns back to the sheet music; suddenly looks up in a panic and sees Conductor impatiently signaling that the triangle should be hit) Whoops.  (Excessively triangles, more than there were notes, but the rest of the orchestra continues without missing a beat)

Percussionist 2: (Whispering to Percussionist 1 as Percussionist 3 crashes all the cymbals) Nice recovery, but don’t overdo it.

Percussionist 1: (Whispering back) It was you – !

Transistor Radio: Out!  And the game is over!

Percussionist 2: (Drowned out by angrily drumming) Un – freaking – believable!

Percussionist 1: [Sigh] (Sees Conductor signaling again and this time restrainedly triangles; once that is done, looks over and sees Percussionist 4 holding out a plate with a cake slice in one hand while striking the tubular bells with the other; Percussionist 1 slightly shakes head at Percussionist 4, who shrugs and slightly ducks down to take a bite) [Heavier Sigh] 

GRAND FINALE 

(Percussionists 1, 2, 3, and 4 rush from one instrument to the next to hit all of them at the proper times; at one point, Percussionist 1 and Percussionist 3 collide but the latter smoothly moves the former aside and both continue on their way; the orchestra concludes the piece with a cacophonous flourish, and the audience gives a standing ovation.  Conductor bows, gestures for the orchestra members to bow as well, and then exits stage right with no further interaction with anyone as the curtains close)

Percussionist 1: (Collapses onto the floor, still holding a mallet, as the rest of the orchestra members pack up and leave; to Percussionists 2, 3, and 4) I have never felt so stressed in all my life.

Percussionist 2: (Standing over Percussionist 1 with Percussionist 3 and Percussionist 4; all three are snacking on potato chips) You did great, kid – we’ll make a percussionist out of you yet.  (Turns briefly towards a DING! from nearby)  Sounds like the chocolate’s done – wanna stick around for fondue?

Percussionist 1: …Yeah, all right.

Story 579: Uninvited Guests

             (In a house, family members gather to eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow they go back to work and school)

Relative 1: (Using pot holders to take a bowl of cheese dip out of the oven and transfer it to Relative 2’s waiting hands) Put this on a trivet inside, please – and make sure no one eats it for at least five minutes or else their entire mouths’ll burn up.

Relative 2: (Hugs the bowl of dip with the pot holders) Oh I won’t.  (Smiles down at the bowl and licks lips on the way to the appetizer table in the living room)

Relative 1: Probably shouldn’t have trusted it to that one.  (Shoves a roasting pan into the oven and sets the timer just as the doorbell rings) I’LL GET IT!  (Runs to the front door and flings it open) Hiiiiiii!!!!!

Relative 3: (Holding a covered tray) Hi, thanks for inviting me!  What’s the occasion again?

Relative 1: (Keeping the door open as Relative 3 steps into the house and they hug) Oh, you know: we’re between major holidays; I need to host a get-together every few weeks or I’ll just burst; that old story.

Relative 3: (Hands over the tray) Well, I made cupcakes for later.

Relative 1: Yum.  (Closes the front door with a foot while peeking under the tray’s cover)

Relative 3: (Takes off a coat) I’m going to drop this off with the mountain of others in somebody’s bedroom, and then eat one of everything that’s out there; oh yeah, and say “Hi” to everybody and whatnot.

Relative 1: Please do.  (Yells toward the living room where the guests are all lounging) There better not be any food left lying around by the end of the night, you hear me?!

Relatives: (Murmurs of assent)

Relative 3: (Emerging from somebody’s bedroom after dropping off the coat) On it!  (Zooms into the living room)

Relative 1: Yeah, yeah.  (Turns away from the living room and suddenly sees three individuals had arrived after Relative 3, unnoticed by both) Who the blazes are you?!

Virus 1: Hey, how ya doin’ – we’re with the one who just came in.  (Gestures to Relative 3 hugging and kissing everyone in the living room)

Relative 1: What?!

Virus 1: `Scuse us.  (Goes to the living room, followed by Virus 2 and Virus 3)

Virus 2: (To Relative 1) Nice place you got here.  (Proceeds to touch all the doorknobs, light switches, and furniture)

Virus 3: (Lifts the cover of the tray that Relative 1 is holding, grabs a cupcake, and consumes it sloppily; through the crumbs) Thanks.  (Follows Virus 2 and Virus 3 into the living room)

Relative 1: (Frozen as the party continues) Nooooo….. (Tosses the tray onto a side table and walks slowly into the living room)

Virus 1: (Plops onto the couch between two relatives watching the television and hugs them close to each side) So!  How’s the game goin’?

Relative 4: Awful, as usual.

Relative 5: I don’t even know why we still watch these things; we always feel worse afterward.

Virus 1: That’s nice; you just keep on gazing at the magical screen and pay no attention to anything else here.  (Rubs their faces soothingly)

Virus 2: (After touching everything in the living room, crouches down to where several children are playing a board game) Neat!  Can I play?

Relative 6: Sure.

Virus 2: Thanks!  (Takes all the game tokens, jumps them around the board haphazardly, and gives them back to the players) There!  I win!

Relative 7: (Staring at the token in hand) I think you’re right.

(Virus 3 spreads cupcake crumbs all over the place while wandering over to where Relative 3 is chatting with Relative 2 next to the bowl of cheese dip)

Relative 3: If you want it, go for it; that’s what I always say.  I’ve lived by that motto for years and it’s never steered me wrong so far.

Relative 2: (Nodding in awe) Uh-huh.  (Shouts to Relative 8 who is sitting in an armchair) You hear that?  Yet another argument for me to run away and join the circus!

Relative 8: (Without looking away from the television) You do that, you’re not getting another dime outta me ever again.

Relative 2: (After a moment, turns back to Relative 3) So how do you go about not wanting things?

Relative 3: Well I –

Virus 3: (Reaches between Relative 2 and Relative 3) Don’t mind me.  (Scoops out a bunch of the cheese dip and ingests it lovingly) Mmmm – perfection.

Relative 2: (Staring at the dip in horror) Whaaaaaaaat is going on?

Relative 1: (Points an accusatory finger at Relative 3) YOU!

Relative 3: (Points an accusatory finger at self) Me?

Relative 1: You brought in these clowns – (Waves arms around to take in Viruses 1, 2, and 3 spread throughout the room) and now we’re all gonna get sick!  Horribly, grossly sick!

Relative 3: No I didn’t – I’ve never seen them before in my life!

Relative 1: HA!

Relative 3: OK, maybe they do look a little familiar –

Virus 1: We first me in `84.

Virus 2: `85.

Virus 3: `93.

Virus 1: `93 too.

Virus 2: Again in `98.

Virus 3: `01, `02, `03 –

Relative 1: ENOUGH!  (To Relative 3) Now I’m sure you had no idea that you had some hitchhiking freeloaders when you came here today –

Virus 1: Hey!  I’ll have you know that our parasite-host relationship is entirely to everyone’s mutual benefit!

Relative 1: (Turning on Virus 1) What do you think a parasite is?!

Virus 1: …Oh yeah, right; never mind.  (Pats the now-dozing Relative 4 and Relative 5 on the heads as Virus 2 and Virus 3 continue to circulate among the other Relatives in the room, invading their personal space and handling their food and drinks)

Relative 1: (Turning back to Relative 3) This is a disaster!

Relative 3: Hey, it’s not like I knew they were coming with me today; they gave me no notice, and I feel fine!  (Stomach growls; in a small voice) Would you excuse me for a minute?  (Runs to the bathroom and slams the door shut)

Relative 1: (Glares after Relative 3, then turns back to the living room) Unbeliev – WHAT IN THE WORLD??!!

Viruses 4 – 10^300000000: (Perched on every open space and person in the room) Hi there!

Relative 2: (In a corner, hugging the bowl of dip while sliding to the floor in the midst of all the Viruses) Mine… it’s mine….

Relative 1: But where did they all come from?!

Virus 1: Oh, us: once we’re all settled we like to fill up the space, spread the joy, know-what-I’m-saying?

Virus 2: It’s kind of our thing.

Relative 6: (Tugs on Relative 1’s shirt, sniffling exaggeratedly) Does this mean we don’t have to go to school tomorrow?

Relative 1 Ew – yes.  (Grabs all the tissues in the house and distributes them to the humans)

Relative 8: (Taking a tissue) Uh, thanks, but I don’t need it.

Relative 1: Oh, you will.  (Runs out of the living room again)

Virus 3: (Gently poking a cat sleeping on a pillow) Hey, this one’s rejecting me, no fair!  (Cat opens one eye, yawns at Virus 3, turns around, and falls back asleep) Wow, what a pro.

Relative 1: (Runs back into the living room with multiple bottles of disinfectant spray and begins hosing down everyone and everything with chemicals) Begone, demons!  (Nothing happens)

Virus 1: (Gets up from the couch to stretch out across the appetizer table) You know, the damage is already done, so you might as well enjoy the rest of your party – two or three days from now is when the fun really begins.

Virus 2: (Gently rotating on top of the ceiling fan) Yeah, you all have fun; you won’t even know we’re here! 

Virus 3: (Breaking up the ice in a bucket and dumping them in all the cups) Your house is our house is your house!  (Relative 6 dramatically wipes eyes and nose with a sleeve; Virus 3 passes over a bunch of tissues) Here – don’t be gross, kid.

Relative 1: (Scoots aside Viruses 7-700 to slump into an armchair in defeat) I suppose, considering I have all this food – !

(Oven timer DING!s)

Viruses and Relatives: Dinner!

(They race to the dining room)

Virus 1: (To Relative 1 on the way out) Gotta say, best party ever!

(Relative 1 is left alone in the living room with the cat and Viruses 347 – 12,958)

Relative 1: (To Viruses 347 – 12,958) Maybe take it easy on me?  I have a lot going on right now.

Viruses 347 – 12,958: Oooh, our favorite kind of host!

Story 576: Valentine’s Day Date With Myself

            (In an apartment, Ego is tidying up the place while on the phone)

Ego: And since I’m currently between soul mates, I decided that this year I’m going on a Valentine’s Day date with myself.

Friend: (Voice on the phone) Good for you!  It’s always nice to treat yourself, I say.  I’m actually kind of jealous: The Other Half really wanted to go to the ballet this year so I’m bracing myself for that snoozefest tonight.

Ego: (Adjusts the living room window blinds) Bummer.

Friend: It really is.  But, I can’t complain because afterwards we’re having dessert at Rock `N Roll All-You-Can-Eat Sports Bar, which The Other Half has to take two aspirin to endure so, you know: True Love, and all that.

Ego: (Lighting several candles) Yeah-yeah, sure-sure.  (There is a knock at the front door) Ooh, sorry to cut you off but my date’s here, have fun, bye!  (Runs to the door, tossing the phone onto a dishtowel lying on the kitchen counter)

Friend: But I thought you were – ? (Disconnected)

(Ego unlocks the front door to reveal Alter Ego)

Ego: (Beaming broadly) Hi!

Alter Ego: (Carrying a large heart-shaped box of chocolates, a bouquet of chocolate roses, and a container of hot chocolate mix) Hi.  I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for so I brought all of them.

Ego: Excellent.  (Stands aside) Come on in!

(Alter Ego enters and they both go into the living room)

Alter Ego: (Setting down the desserts on a coffee table) So, what’ll it be tonight?  Fancy dinner in, sci-fi movie during dessert, maybe a foot pampering session thrown in for good measure?

Ego: (Holds up a foot spa bath) You know me too well.

(At dinner in the dining room/kitchen)

Alter Ego: (While munching on the entrée) Mm-mm, this is delicious.

Ego: Why, thank you.  (Slyly sips from a flute of sparkling water)

Alter Ego: Have you been taking those cooking classes you were thinking about a lot recently?

Ego: Indeed.  I’m glad you noticed; it really is money well spent.

Alter Ego: I’d say: (Holds up a forkful of food) this has been braised to perfection.

Ego: (Waves dismissively) Oh, stop, you!  (Tilts head in thought) Me?

Alter Ego: And the sides!  Healthy, yet savory.  (Does a chef’s kiss) Brilliant.

Ego: It’s so nice to have one’s effort appreciated.

Alter Ego: Well, I certainly appreciate it.  And I was going to do this already, but definitely leave all the dishes and clean-up to me!

Ego: You say the most magical things.

(Later on, Ego and Alter Ego are sprawled across the living room couch watching a movie by candlelight and snacking on the chocolates while Ego’s feet are in the bubbling spa bath)

Alter Ego: (Points to the screen) Don’t you just love it when the soundtrack has themes for certain characters that pop up over and over again throughout the film?

Ego: Yes!  Hardly anyone I watch movies with seems to notice that, and they act like I’m making it up!

Alter Ego: I don’t know about them, but I think it adds such a rich layer of subtext to the entire work – a real treat for the ears that’s extremely underappreciated, in my opinion.

Ego: Exactly!  You get it.

(By the time the movie ends, both are dozing off)

Ego: (Blinking awake as the credits roll loudly, looks around at the mess of candy wrappers on the couch and floor) Ooh, did we actually eat all this?

Alter Ego: Well, you certainly did.

Ego: Heh-heh, yeah.

Alter Ego: And on that note – (Stands) time for me to, unfortunately, buzz off.

Ego: Oh.  (Tries to stand but sloshes around in the foot spa bath instead; dries off feet with a blanket and kicks aside the bath) Is the Valentine’s Day date over already?

Alter Ego: Why, you wanna go out clubbing or something?

Ego: (Shudders) Ooh, I don’t think I can handle that anymore at my age.  OK, well, thanks for a lovely Valentine’s Day, then.

Alter Ego: My pleasure.

(They both walk to the entrance)

Ego: (Unlocks and opens the front door) So: same time next year?

Alter Ego: You sure? You might find a new soul mate by then.

Ego: (Thinks for a few moments, then shakes head) Knowing me, I doubt it.  Besides, I learned something new from our time together tonight.

Alter Ego: What’s that?

Ego: I like this better.

Story 552: Off-Season Hot Chocolate

             (In an ice cream parlor at a beach town during the summer, the line snakes out the door and around the corner of the building late at night.  Behind the counter, Manager and three Employees field multiple orders at a time from large groups, with no breaks from the never-ending line)

Manager: (Smiling while handing over several cones and cups to a multi-generational party, who take the desserts and run) Here ya go!  (Immediately rings up the order from memory and addresses the group’s representative) That’ll be $40.87.

Customer 1: (Freezes while digging out a wallet) It wasn’t that high last year.

Manager: (Still smiling, briefly points to the giant sign on the wall behind the counter listing all the food, drinks, and prices) Well, prices are all posted, and as you know, this is a family-run business with all our specialty, hand-crafted tastes and treats made with the utmost care and love – and all that ain’t gettin’ any cheaper.  (Holds out a hand) $40.87, please.

Customer 1: (Counts out exact change) Here – next time I’m telling them all to order the smallest size.

Manager: (Dumps the cash into the register) You do you.  (As Customer 1 starts to turn away, Manager slides the tip jar over) Ah-ah-ah.

Customer 1: I thought you said this was family-run?  Don’t you get all the profit?

Manager: Me and behind-the-scenes are family – (Nods at Employees) That crew’s a bunch of doomed college students who’ll need all the help they can get.

Employee 1: (Freezes mid-scoop) Huh?

Manager: Like you don’t know – (Points to the ice cream carton) and make sure you don’t sweat in that thing like last night!  (Employee 1 ducks out of the case while finishing scooping as Manager cheerfully turns back to Customer 1) So?

Customer 1: (Tosses a dollar into the jar) Vacations ain’t getting’ any cheaper, either.  (Leaves)

Manager: (Mutters) I’ll bet.  (Loudly) Next!

Customer 2: (Approaches the counter) Hi, can I have a… (Squints up at the giant sign) Rootin’ Tootin’ Banana Split Fruitin’ Fudge Brownie –

Manager: Yeah, I really need to shorten that title; what size?

Customer 2: GRANDE.

Manager: Ohh-kaay, that’s a large.  (Briefly taps Employee 2’s shoulder as the latter is topping off a sundae) When you’re done with that order, go in the back and make up a large #4.

Employee 2: (Whines) Aw, Boss, do I have to?

Manager: (Stares balefully at Employee 2) Yes!  You’re the only one here besides me who can make it competently, and I am not leaving this counter unsupervised!  And it’s your job, so get moving.  (Turns back to Customer 2) That’ll be a few minutes – (Points to a nearby table) Would you mind waiting there until it’s done, please?  You can pay when it’s delivered to you.

Customer 2: With great anticipation.  (Spins around, glides over to the table, and slides onto the chair)

Manager: (Quietly) Oh my.  (To the rest of the room) Next!

Customer 3: (Steps up to the counter, very intense) Hello.

Manager: Hi!  How can I help you?

Customer 3: I would like a small hot chocolate, please.

(Everyone else in the ice cream parlor freezes; mouths drop open in shock and/or mid-bite, and ice cream falls off scoops and back into cartons, unchecked)

Manager: (Trying to maintain a smile) …Come again?

Customer 3: You heard me.

Manager: We… don’t serve hot chocolate here.

Customer 4: (On line by the front door) Yeah, `cause this is an ice cream parlor, ya weirdo!

Customer 3: (Ignoring the comment) I see that you serve coffee here, correct?

Manager: Yes, rarely –

Customer 3: Well then: use the same milk steamer that you would use for that, and pour some syrup or melt some fudge in it, and there you are.  Oh, and some of your homemade mini marshmallows to top it off would be most appreciated.

Manager: It’s… more of an… off-season menu item….

Customer 3: I fail to discern the issue here.

Customer 5: (In the middle of the line) That’s right: I see everyone else having hot coffee and hot tea all summer long, what’s the big deal?!  (Is shoved back toward the door by other Customers)

(Employee 2 slowly emerges from the back delicately carrying an extremely large platter laden with brownies, fruit, candy, and more toppings than ice cream)

Employee 2: All righty, who ordered the Rootin’ Tootin’ – ?

Manager: (Still locking eyes with Customer 3) NOT!  NOW!

Employee 2: (Immediately turns around and heads into the back) Okey dokey.

Manager: (Turns and points to Employee 3) You: turn on the steamer, grab five tablespoons of chocolate chips, and make a small hot chocolate topped with mini marshmallows.

Employee 3: (Panicking) But Boss, it’s the middle of summer, this just isn’t done!

Manager: That’s an order, Rising Sophomore!  (Employee 3 wails while turning on the steamer and scrambling to gather the chocolate chips)  Welcome to the real world, kiddo!  (Turns back to Customer 3 with a strained smile) Anything else?

Customer 3: No, that’ll be all for tonight, thank you.

Manager: (Types into the register) That’ll be $4.00… plus an extra 90 cents for the topping.

Customer 3: (Hands over $5.00) Keep the dime.  (Shoves a few dollars into the tip jar) For your trouble.

Manager: (Strained smile) Thank you.  It’s no trouble.

Employee 3: (Carefully walks over to Customer 3 and shakily hands over the hot chocolate, sniffling) One small hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows topping.

Customer 3: (Takes the cup) I thank you.  (Turns to leave)

Manager: DON’T – (Customer 3 turns back) you want to try it out?  Make sure it was made to your… satisfaction?

Customer 3: (Smiles bitterly) I trust the integrity of your family-run business and doomed college staff.  (Turns around slowly to address the waiting Customers) I will not be shamed further by your judgmental views of my dessert beverage of choice, just because it’s not the stereotypical season for it!  Or iced!  Or coffee!  Or tea!  Hypocrites!  (The other Customers lower their heads, chastened)  Besides – it’s too hot and I’ll burn my mouth if I drink it right now.  (Rushes through the parting crowd and out the door, cackling)

(A few moments of embarrassed silence, until – )

Customer 2: (Raises hand while sitting at the table) Excuse me?  Can I have my #4 now, please?

Manager: (Shakes self out of daze as Employees begin taking orders from Customers again) Oh yeah, sorry – it’s on the house.  (Yells at the back) #4, you’re up!

Employee 2: (Peeks head out) Is it safe to come out now?

Manager: Yes, before the whole thing melts!  Just bring it to Table 1!

Employee 2: (Slowly emerges from the back delicately carrying the platter again) Right: which one’s Table 1?

Manager: (Stares at Employee 2 in disbelief) The only table with a customer sitting at it!

Employee 2: Gotcha.  (Brings the large dessert to Customer 2 and sets it gently on the table) Here ya go!

Customer 2: Thanks ever so much.  (Employee 2 rushes back to the counter; Customer 2 takes a spoon that was stuck into the dessert and whispers to the giant mass of sugar) At last, you are mine.

Manager: (To the crowd) Next!

Customer 6: (Steps up to the counter) Wow, I bet when you started this business you never thought you’d have an order for hot chocolate in the summer, huh?

Manager: True, but I also never thought I’d be serving ice cream to dozens of people past midnight either, and yet, here we are.

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.