Writers Can Change Identities
Susan Tepper
Today, while buying a bottle
of shampoo, for which I paid cash, I was asked for my name. My name? I said to the woman taking my
money. Reluctantly I told her. Susan, I said. Then she asked for my last name. No, I said.
I will not give my last name. This
is a bottle of shampoo. I’m paying in
cash. Why do you need my name? I don’t, said the woman. It’s a store policy. It’s absurd, I said. It’s an invasion of privacy. Now the government or some agency will keep
tabs on what kind of shampoo a person buys?
The woman agreed. It’s horrible,
she said. Tell you what, I said. I’ll give a fake name. Go for it, she said. How about Jesus Christ? Jesus is good, said the woman. She typed it into the computer.
My husband and I went to a
newly opened restaurant for brunch. This
place had been touted for its great food when it was at its old, smaller
location. The new location was very
trendy and nice. Red leather booths,
black and white tiles, lots of 1950’s chrome.
For brunch we ordered the French toast that they’re famous for and a
side of crisp bacon. After waiting a
long time, the food was placed in front of us.
The French toast was made of the ends of a loaf of hard French
bread. It looked and tasted bad. The bacon was not crisp, nor was it
flat. It was curling, fatty strips. Disgusting.
Don’t eat that, I told my husband.
You could get trichinosis from undercooked bacon. We were pretty annoyed. Then I noticed some woman flouncing around
the place moving knick-knacks and straightening pictures. She had attitude. I called her over. Are you the owner? I said.
Yes, she said. The pride in her
eyes couldn’t be disputed. Well this
food is disgusting, I said. Who cooked
it? Well our regular chef is off today,
she said. I said, So you’re telling me
the guy who cleans up cooked our food?
More or less, she said smirking.
OK, I said. Well I’m the food
critic from the Star Ledger. I’m here to
write a review. The woman turned
pale. That’s not fair, she said. You’re supposed to let us know ahead of
time. Oh, really, I said. Why is that?
So you can clean up your act? My
husband, who is used to my different
incarnations from time to time, well he could hardly keep a straight
face. People work hard and spend their
good money for restaurant meals, I told the woman. Now they’ll know to steer clear of this
place.
As writers we can make
characters of all ages, shapes, sizes, colors and creeds. What is a creed? At any rate, it’s our writer gift to carry
these characters into reality, here and there, if we choose to. As long as we don’t overdo. We have to remember who we really are, even
as we make ourselves over into someone else.
Like Jesus, for instance.
Susan Tepper’s current book From the Umberplatzen (Wilderness House
Press, 2012) is a quirky love story told in linked flash fiction and set in
Germany. www.susantepper.com
This is always something I want to do but end up saying "Great" when the waiter asks how everything was.
ReplyDeleteI did, however, back in the day, put on a phony Brit accent and pose as one of the lesser members of famous rock bands. Bassist for Humble Pie, keyboard for The Animals - whoever happened to be in town. Worked like a charm. Just one of many things I'd be going to Hell for if there was a Hell.
Derek, thanks for reading this and your funny comment! Can't wait to see who you turn up as at the next reading! Tiny Tim?
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