Story 279: I Wasn’t Supposed to Win the Award

            (At a breakfast/lunch restaurant)

            Costumer Designer: So now I’m expected to drop everything, fly all the way out to Fiji, and spend three weeks on pristine beaches altering costumes on every single extra again and redesigning the lead’s entire ensemble from beginning to end because it’s apparently not quote-unquote “climate-appropriate.”

            Non-Film Industry Friend: What a burden.

           Costume Designer: I know, right?  (Sees alert on phone and reads message) Aw, dagnabit!

            Non-Film Industry Friend: What, next you’ll have to fly out to Paris?

         Costume Designer: (Shudders) Heavens, no; they announced the ------- Award nominations this morning and this says that I got nominated for Best Costume Design for that one I did three years ago and just came out last month.

            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Chokes on coffee) What?!  I didn’t even know you were in the running to be… in the running!

            Costume Designer: (Tosses the phone onto the table) Yeah, they nominated everybody who had anything tangentially to do with that flick, which means it’ll win Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Screenplay, and Best Director, but not Best Picture.

            Non-Film Industry Friend: But you still got nominated for costumes!  That’s great!

            Costume Designer: (Focuses on buttering toast) Yeah.

            Non-Film Industry Friend: I don’t understand – why aren’t you thrilled beyond belief?

            Costume Designer: Because now it means I have to go to the awards show!

            Non-Film Industry Friend: Yes it does!

            Costume Designer: Do you know how boring those things are?!

            Non-Film Industry Friend: But – but – but it’s the ------!

           Costume Designer: Doesn’t make it any less tedious.  Plus, why should I have to sit through everybody else’s drama when I could be home, watching it on TV?

            Non-Film Industry Friend: `Cause you might win!

          Costume Designer: Ha.  I saw who else is nominated: three period pieces and an innovative space opera.  My designs, on the other hand, come to me in my nightmares.

            Non-Film Industry Friend: You mean your dreams?

          Costume Designer: You heard me.  (Reads another message on the phone) Oh look, it’s the studio head, congratulating us and saying we’d better show up for the awards show or never work in this town again.

            Non-Film Industry Friend: They actually said that?

         Costume Designer: I’m pretty sure that last bit was directed solely to me.  (Sighs while crunching into toast) Guess I should begin the mental prep now – it’s only three months away.

            Non-Film Industry Friend: Need any help writing your acceptance speech?

          Costume Designer: Don’t waste the energy – you’ll need it to face the long hours sitting in almost-comfortable chairs.

            Non-Film Industry Friend: Ooh, so I can be your guest then?

            Costume Designer: Sure, I’ll need someone to talk to who isn’t me.

THE NIGHT OF THE ------- AWARDS

            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Looking all around the spectacle in awe as they disembark from a bus in front of the theater; both are wearing business casual) Oh wow, red carpet treatment!  This is all so glamorous!

            Costume Designer: Yeah, we go in this way.  (Points to a side entrance)

            Non-Film Industry Friend: Oh.  We can’t just hurry through the reception line and get maybe one paparazzo photo by mistake?  I was hoping to see ----- ------ up close from afar.

           Costume Designer: C’mon, it’s less hectic this way – besides, you should see where they make the science award nominees enter.

            Non-Film Industry Friend: Where, the back?

            Costume Designer: Nope: last week.  Zing!  Poor underappreciated nerds.

            (Several hours later, they are sitting in the third upper mezzanine)

            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Squinting) I can almost see the stage.

           Costume Designer: (Munching on popcorn) Yeah, we’ve got some time yet.  Wake me when they get up to Best Sound, would you?

            Non-Film Industry Friend: Editing or Mixing?

           Costume Designer: (Takes out a pillow and blanket and snuggles into the seat) Surprise me.

            (Several hours later)

            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Shakes Costume Designer awake) It’s coming!

            Costume Designer: Huh?  Is the plane landed yet?

            Non-Film Industry Friend: No-no, your category!

            Costume Designer: Oh, that.  Let me get my act together.  (Takes out several pieces of paper covered in numbers)

            Non-Film Industry Friend: What’s all this?

            Costume Designer: My pool.  My money’s on the space opera.

            Non-Film Industry Friend: You bet against yourself?!

            Costume Designer: Darn tootin’; figured this wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

            Announcer: And the ----- goes to… ------- ---------- for ---!

            (Costume Designer’s mouth drops open as Non-Film Industry Friend screams)

            Non-Film Industry Friend: You won-you won-you won-you won!!!!

            (A camera operator is in place to film Costume Designer’s trek to the stage)

           Costume Designer: (While being pushed out of the seat by Non-Film Industry Friend) This wasn’t supposed to happen – (To Non-Film Industry Friend) I’m out $3,000!

            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Applauding wildly and crying) Just get up there, you fool!

          (Nearby audience members assist in pushing Costume Designer down the aisle, stairs, and main aisle to the stage; for the first time in TV history, there is a cut to a commercial during this)

         Costume Designer: (While being pulled up the stairs to the stage by the Announcer and production assistants) Are you sure the accounting firm tallied the ballots correctly?!  I strongly suspect voter fraud!

          (The Announcer hands over the award, then guides Costume Designer to the microphone as the latter tries to exit stage right)

            Costume Designer: (After a few seconds staring at all the humans staring back) I really don’t have a speech prepared…. (Audience laughs)

            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Bellows from way back) Just thank everybody!

            Costume Designer: Oh yeah – thanks, everybody.  (Stares some more) Is my time up yet?  (A production assistant points to the timer counting down) Ten seconds?!  Uh… thanks?  Already said that, uhhh… no “I” in “Team”?... Uhhh…. World peace?  (The exit music starts playing) Oh thank goodness – bye!  (Runs back through the theater, up the stairs, and collapses back into the seat)

            Non-Film Industry Friend: That was great – can I hold it?

          Costume Designer: (Tosses the award onto Non-Film Industry Friend’s lap) Sure – keep it if you want.

            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Holds award in a pose) I’d like to thank my parents –

            Costume Designer: Too bad I just now realized I should’ve sent you up there.

          (A production assistant approaches them, gasping for breath after climbing the stairs in double-time)

            Production Assistant: Excuse me, they need you backstage for photos.

            Costume Designer: Why??

            Production Assistant: Because…

            Costume Designer: Oh fine, I’ll be right there.  (Takes back the award while getting out of the seat) I tell you, it never ends!

            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Sniffs) This is the most magical evening of my life!

           Costume Designer: (On the way down the aisle) All I have to say is, I better not find myself here again next year!  My foot fell asleep twice already and we’ve still got another 20 awards to go!

Story 278: We’re Not Fighting, We’re Just Loud

            Friend 1: (Parallel parks the car next to a driveway entrance, then exits to measure the half-inch clearance between the driveway in front and the car behind them) Nailed it!  Let’s go.

           Friend 2: (As they walk to the target house two blocks away) This actually is my first Easter dinner – thanks again for the invite, since I wasn’t doing anything anyway, and I like your family.

          Friend 1: Sure, but you’re doing me the favor: I’ll need company during the lulls between courses.  (Suddenly stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk) Oh.

            Friend 2: (Searches through bags) What, did you forget one of the desserts we were supposed to bring?

            Friend 1: No, I just realized: you’ve met my family, but you’ve never met my Family.

            Friend 2: Aaaaand, what’s the difference?

            Friend 1: You’ve met my immediate family of six, which is a pretty sedate crowd –

            Friend 2: If you say so.

          Friend 1: – but you haven’t met the others in my Whole Family, when there’s 40 of us crammed into one room.

            Friend 2: What?!

           Friend 1: OK, more like 25 of us spread across three rooms and a basement, but you get the picture.  How well does your voice carry?

          Friend 2: Not very, which explains why you’re always the one who has to get the waiter’s attention.

            Friend 1: Yep, it was the only way to survive get-togethers.  I suggest you bring a pen and lots of paper.

            Friend 2: We’re already here!

            Friend 1: Oh.  Well, good luck.

          (They arrive at the house; a multitude of raised voices can be heard through the windows)

            Friend 2: (Stops in the driveway) Whoa, is there a fight going on in there?

            Friend 1: Nope – just 15 simultaneous conversations.  Follow me.

            (They approach the entrance and Friend 1 holds down the doorbell until Aunt opens the door; a wave of sound and several pets cascade out)

            Aunt: HI, HAPPY EASTER!  GLAD YOU COULD MAKE IT!  COME ON IN!

            (Friend 2’s eyes are blinking in the sensory overload; Friend 1 drags Friend 2 by the shoulder into the house where they spend the next 10 minutes kissing everyone “HELLO!”)

            Friend 2: (To Friend 1’s ear) WHERE CAN I PUT MY STUFF?

            Friend 1: I’LL TAKE `EM!  IF YOU NEED ANYTHING LATER IT’LL JUST BE TOSSED ON SOMEBODY’S BED!  (Takes away their stuff)

            Cousin 1: (To Friend 2) WANT SOME SNACKS?

            Friend 2: WHAT?

            Cousin 1: SNACKS!  (Points to a table arrayed with nibbles)

            Friend 2: OH!  NO THANKS, I’M SAVING MYSELF FOR DINNER!

           Cousin 1: HA!  THAT’LL BE HOURS YET!  BETTER TAKE SOME NOW TO TIDE YOU OVER OR YOU’LL BE DYING BY THEN!

            Friend 2: Oh, all right.

            Cousin 1: WHAT?

            Friend 2: I SAID, “THANK YOU!”  (Picks at nibbles)

            (Four hours later)

          Cousin 4: AND THAT’S WHY THAT WAS THE WORST GAME IN THE HISTORY OF FOOTBALL!

          Cousin 11: I CAN’T BELIEVE I HAVE TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL TOMORROW, IT’S NOT FAIR!

            Grandmother: HAS ANYONE SEEN THE CAT LATELY?

         Friend 1: I AM ABSOLUTELY APPALLED THAT THERE STILL IS SNOW ON THE GROUND IN THE MIDDLE OF APRIL!  WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?!

            Friend 2: CAN I HAVE SOME MORE WINE, PLEASE?

            Friend 1: SURE, TAKE A BOTTLE, NEARLY EVERYONE BROUGHT ONE!

      Aunt: (Appears in the kitchen entrance and speaks into a megaphone) DINNER’S READY!  EVERYBODY SIT DOWN!

            (Everyone scrambles to an age-appropriate table and digs into dinner)

        Friend 2: (To the other end of the kiddie table) COULD YOU PASS THE MASHED POTATOES, PLEASE?

         Cousin 13: THERE’S NO ROOM FOR THEM HERE, YOU’LL HAVE TO GO TO THE ADULT TABLE FOR THOSE!

            Friend 2: BUT WE’RE ALL ADULTS HERE!  EXCEPT FOR THE BABY!

            Baby Cousin: I’M NOT A BABY, I’M 8 YEARS OLD!

          Cousin 13: YEAH, WE’RE THIRD AND FOURTH GENERATION SO WE’RE STILL AT THE KIDDIE TABLE FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE!  WE ONLY ADVANCE WHEN A SPOT OPENS UP AT THE ADULT TABLE, DUE TO ABSENCE OR – (Everyone crosses themselves)

            Friend 1: (Devouring string beans) IT’S THE WAY THINGS ARE AND THE WAY THINGS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN, WORLD WITHOUT END!

            Friend 2: SO I GUESS THAT MEANS I HAVE TO WALK OVER TO THE OTHER TABLE TO GET THE MASHED POTATOES, THEN?

          Friend 1: GOT IT IN ONE!  OOH, CAN YOU GRAB SOME FOR ME TOO WHILE YOU’RE THERE?  (Holds out plate)

         Cousins 9-13 and Baby Cousin: (All hold out their plates) SOME FOR ME TOO, PLEASE?

            Friend 2: This may take a while.

            Cousins 9-13, Baby Cousin, and Friend 1: WHAT?

            (After clean-up, dessert, and second clean-up)

          Friend 1: (Settles onto a couch next to Friend 2) Ah, I’m stuffed – I don’t think I can eat another thing until tomorrow morning.

            Friend 2: Yeah, it was all so delicious.  Wait a minute – what’s going on?

            Friend 1: What?

            Friend 2: I can hear you.  And you can hear me.  And we’re not shouting in each other’s faces.

           Friend 1: Oh yeah, we’ve reached that part in the evening where at least half the crew’s left and the rest of us eventually straggle out the door.  Speaking of which, it’ll be time for us soon – it’s 8:00 already and half the state will be driving over the bridge the same time we are.

            Friend 2: (Leans back and closes eyes) In a few minutes; I want to savor this.

           Friend 1: Now that you’ve had a taste, you can be my +1 for my cousin’s wedding later this year – total of 400 guests expected right now, but there’s always room for more.

            Friend 2: Wouldn’t miss it.