Daria hasn’t called yet today but yesterday’s conversation was truly inspirational.
Tata: Tata speaking.
Daria: I’m calling you.
Daria: I’m going to call you back.
Tata: What? You never call me back!
Daria: I’m going to call you back! Geez!
Daria: So don’t call me back, okay?
She didn’t call back. That was the whole phone call. I have no idea what that was about but sometimes we need assurance that people are where we expect them to be. For instance, were I Roman Polanski I might call Charlie Manson every day to make sure he’s where I left him, and Goddess knows in the wake of those Roberts hearings someone should check on Clarence Thomas.
Tata: It’s so cold in my office I’m wearing a blanket.
Siobhan: Is it fleecy? [Pause] You’re not just wearing a blanket, right?
Tata: I’m wearing other garments, yes, but it’s funny that you had to ask.
Siobhan: I wasn’t worried at first, but then, well it just popped into my head that this might be the day you went round the “inappropriate work attire” bend.
And who wouldn’t frankly? I’ve been moving now since 19 August, and last week I snapped like a twig when I found my medicine cabinet in the old building filled with brown liquid that’d flowed down from the apartment upstairs. I could go no further without help; everything was too complicated. Dad and Darla drove up from their bucolic home below the Mason-Dixon line, sized up the drama and started fixing things, starting with the keys to the new apartment and the building, the windows, the kitchen, the broiler’s pilot light, the locks, the showerhead and the impassable pile of stuff in the living room. In less than twelve hours, they made more progress than I could have made in months, while I packed more things. I’m truly running on fumes here. Last night’s mission was to get very delicate things into the new apartment and grocery shop for both apartments. See, Paulie Gonzalez is moving into the old apartment and he’d take care of everything himself but he’s in Italy and can’t get to the A&P so I picked him up some Lean Cuisines. As Howard Dean is certain to find out, I make an excellent Ex.
Daria and I have a new ritual we observe each time I return from the grocery store. Look for this conversation to happen some time after lunch:
Tata: Okay, so I go armed with coupons, my A&P card and all that change we picked up off the floor of Paulie’s bedroom when we cleaned out his Swinging Bachelor Pad(tm) before he went to Italy and the change machine at the grocery store takes $.089 cents per dollar to count the change and still gave me $25.99 and his coins from Spain. So I work from the list I made with the circular and the coupons and – it’s a bloody miracle! – the things I have coupons for are on special anyhow, which means that the cartful of stuff for both apartments comes to about $350 and when it’s all done I give the cashier $198.10! I am QUEEN OF SAVINGS!
Daria: Tomorrow, I’m going to make a car dealer cry.
Tata: The whole dealership or just a few salesmen?
When this is all over, I’m going to need a transfusion and a financial advisor. You know, to carry me around like Kerry Strug.