Do Your Part

A lot of you have experienced considerable anxiety over your fear that you're just not doing enough for me these days. You email. You sign my guestbook. You dream about me when you're sleeping. You pour syrup on your pancakes so they look like me. But you're wondering how you can do more. As a public service for those of you in need, I am providing the following resource. So, quit glomming! It's time for some payback. Oh, and you may have noticed that the title graphic is beginning to hypnotize you. Don't be alarmed. You're feeling generous...very, very generous...

Go to Pizzeria Uno and ask them to put the Spinach Salad back on the menu
Don't buy anything there, for God's sake. Just tell them that you wish the Spinach Salad was back on the menu. For some reason, they don't seem to want to listen to me.
Sit quietly in the cinema
I know it's probably not you. You're cool. You visit me online. You couldn't possibly be the sort that speaks full voice at the cinema. You couldn't possibly be that guy who brings his own homemade snacks to the theater in an especially noisy plastic bag. You couldn't be the drunk hooligans off to the right who can't keep from kicking over the empty 40 oz. beer bottles they left on the floor. You couldn't be the person behind me who keeps stepping on my hair. Could you?
Donate a very expensive violin to me
If I'm ever going to achieve that enlightened level of playing that only the masters have displayed, I'm going to need a better instrument than the violin I bought on eBay two and a half years ago. It came in a case that was spray-painted silver, for the love of Pete.
Put a freaking heater in my office
I don't toil away on the Alaskan tundra or anything, but my office is cold enough to keep popsicles firm. You know how they say that when you freeze to death, you just sort of go to sleep and all your body's functions just slow down gradually until they come to a complete stop? My point exactly.
Don't drive around with frayed pieces of colored tape where your tail lights once were
You're not fooling me. A piece of a plastic bag that you colored with a red marker and then taped over your brake lights is just not going to cut it. Having a damaged lamp cover is not a badge of glory. No one thinks it's cool. And no one believes you can't afford to get it fixed.
Clean my apartment
Come on. You want it to be nice when you come over, don't you? I've really got far too much to do to be expected to keep everything nice and tidy and in its place. I can't be neat. I'm CREATIVE.
Clean my bathroom
You can opt for this one if you feel that the previous request was over the top.
Do my laundry
With all the effort I put into looking my very best for you, the least you could do is make sure I always have clean socks to wear. I prefer dryer sheets to fabric softener, and I don't buy into any of this "color-safe bleach" nonsense.
Muzzle my neighbors
I'm not asking for hibernation privileges. I'm not even asking for a smidge of beauty sleep here. I just don't think I should have to be awakened, startled, or serenaded at different points of the day by the hideous noises that accompany the questionable lifestyle of the trashy people who live downstairs from me.
Wash my car
It would make my mom so very pleased if I would show up at her house with a nice shiny car. While you're at it, find some place to stick all the old mail you find under the seats, too.
Put a CD player in my car
Santa missed me last Christmas.
Watch and love Spongebob Squarepants
You couldn't stay awake long enough to keep The Tick on the air. You wrote altogether too few letters to HBO about the travesty of canceling Mr. Show. Quite frankly, I think keeping my favorite NickToon flush in the ratings is the very least you could do at this point.
Bother to notice when I'm wearing something new (which is practically every damn day, so it shouldn't be too much of a strain for you)
I go to a lot of trouble to keep you happy (and to keep my visits to the dry cleaners to a minimum). When I buy a whole new outfit and come waltzing into my office or happen to bump into you on the street, toss me a compliment. I promise: it'll make my day.
Order your baked potatoes without onions
I do. And I would appreciate it if you would help me by getting servers used to the idea of fulfilling my very small request that my potato not be smothered in finely chopped green onions. And don't tell me to pick them off either.
Don't skimp on the pizza sauce
I really don't eat pizza that frequently, but so often when I do, I'm disappointed to find the one compact disc-sized blotch of pizza sauce under the mottled, rubbery cheese and I wonder to myself if this is really what God intended. It sure doesn't taste like it.
Put Midori in all my drinks
I promise, I won't complain. It's green and sweet and syrupy and Japanarific. I especially like it when you throw in a maraschino cherry, too.
Use your turn signal
I'd like to be able to read your mind. Really, I would. But it's a skill I've not yet mastered. And as such, I have no idea where you are going or at what point you will need to cut me off in order to get there. If you would be so kind as to press on that little lever next to your steering wheel to let me know when you would like me to slam on my brakes to avoid hitting you as you come careening into my lane, I would be ever so grateful.
Keep your middle finger to yourself
When I indicate to you by some means -- a horn toot, a roll of the eyes, a graceful gesture perhaps -- that you have startled me on the road, there's really no need for you to show that digit to me. I know you have one. It would be so much more interesting if you were to hold up your hand to show me that you were in fact missing your middle finger. I wouldn't mind that much at all.
Keep stray "x"s out of words like "et cetera," "especially" and "espresso"
There simply aren't any "x"s there. You're just overworking yourself adding unnecessary consonants in this case.
Produce a television show based loosely on my life and wacky experiences
I would love to be able to tune in on some prescribed weeknight and watch a group of actors muddle through trials and tribulations that approximate my day-to-day headaches, only on a much campier and more merchandisable level. And I would like the actress who plays the character based loosely on me to be me.


© Copyright 2001 Mary Forrest.
Don't even think about passing this off as your own handiwork!

This site created and maintained by Mary Forrest.