Masterclass
No Tip
I’m taking a MasterClass by David Sedaris. Our first lesson is to use one of his three humor tools to write about watching strangers and quickly understanding how cheap they are. The three tools are to quote funny people, exaggerate, and put yourself down.
The assignment seemed easy enough, but I was left wondering where I would find my muse. Is it the girl running through my apartment complex, the man walking the twin dachshunds, or the neighbor who can’t seem to park between the lines? No. As luck would have it, someone asked me out to lunch and told me I could have an endless cup of coffee. So, of course, I went.
We sat in a tight-squeeze booth in the middle of the restaurant. It was comfortable but not comfortable enough that I would linger after the meal. It was a clever design. Nonetheless, I got my coffee and ordered some food. What I chose didn’t matter because I was instantly struck by my lunch companion’s obvious avoidance of a young man who was a table away. I thought she knew him, so I asked, but she denied it, and we moved on with the conversation.
We continued to talk for a few more minutes when I saw her glance at the man and visibly cringe. I had to know. “Are you sure you don’t know him…” I gestured covertly to the man. She grimaced and said no once more, but I wasn’t satisfied. I let the conversation continue, but then I asked one more time. She sighed, leaned across the table, and whispered slowly, “I hate hairy toes.” I honked and couldn’t help it. I was wearing sandals, and yes, my toes were also hairy. I have like 20 hairs in total, but they’re still there. She’s not going to like that, I thought.
She looked embarrassed by my laughter, but I said, “We live near the beach; hairy toes are everywhere.” She grimaced and said, “I know; they follow me.” She looked like she might be sick. I laughed. At this point, my giggling had drawn the attention of the young man with the hairy toes, so I smiled at him. He scowled and turned away. No return smile?! I obviously had to hate him, so I examined him a moment.
He was a college-age male with a well-groomed beard and hairy toes. His clothes were basic, just a t-shirt and khaki shorts that matched the hairy toes. His hairy toes were strapped in unremarkable sandals. He was an average guy having lunch alone, well, not alone, he had his hairy toes to keep him company.
At this point, my lunch companion poked me and scolded me for staring. I apologized then we gathered ourselves and continued our conversation. It was a pleasant meal, and the conversation was lovely. When Mr. Hairy Toes stood up to leave, we had just asked for the check. He stretched, put down cash for the bill, and quietly exited the restaurant, still completely unaware. A waitress followed behind him, gathering the plates and the bill. As she walked away, we heard her murmuring, “No god damn tip…after six plates of pancakes.”
We looked at each other and vowed to tip our waitress well. We would not be like Mr. Hairy Toes.
PS Do not google hairy toes for a funny picture to add to your writing!
