The World of Simon Rich

by Simon Rich

  CHUCKY: Are you insane? I’m not facing that kid’s mother. That woman is terrifying!

  FREDDY KRUEGER: (Sighs.) I guess tonight’s a bust. Let’s try tomorrow, okay? Same time, same place.

  If adults were subjected to the same indignities as children

  Party

  ZOE: Dad, I’m throwing a party tonight, so you’ll have to stay in your room. Don’t worry, though: one of my friends brought over his father for you to play with. His name is Comptroller Brooks and he’s about your age, so I’m sure you’ll have lots in common. I’ll come check on you in a couple of hours. (Leaves.)

  COMPTROLLER BROOKS: Hello.

  MR. HIGGINS: Hello.

  COMPTROLLER BROOKS: So … um … do you follow city politics?

  MR. HIGGINS: Not really.

  COMPTROLLER BROOKS: Oh.

  (long pause)

  (Zoe returns.)

  ZOE: I forgot to tell you: I told my friends you’d perform for them after dinner. I’ll come get you when it’s time. (Leaves.)

  COMPTROLLER BROOKS: Oh God, what are we going to do?

  MR. HIGGINS: I know a dance … but it’s pretty humiliating.

  COMPTROLLER BROOKS: Just teach it to me.

  Capitol Hill

  LOBBYIST: If you fail to pass this proposition, it will lead to the deaths of thousands. Any questions?

  SENATOR: Why are you wearing a sailor suit?

  LOBBYIST: My children decided to dress me this way, on a whim. I told them it was an important day for me … but they wouldn’t listen.

  SENATOR: It’s adorable.

  LOBBYIST: Okay … but … do you agree with the proposition? About the war?

  SENATOR: Put on the cap.

  Garage

  ALBERT ROSENBLATT: Can I drive your car? I’ll give it back when I’m done.

  MRS. HERSON: I’m sorry … do I know you?

  ALBERT ROSENBLATT: No, but we’re the same age and we go to the same garage.

  MRS. HERSON: No offense, sir, but I really don’t feel comfortable lending you my car. I mean, it’s by far my most important possession.

  PARKING ATTENDANT: Mrs. Herson! I’m surprised at you. What did we learn about sharing?

  MRS. HERSON: You’re right … I’m sorry. Take my Mercedes.

  ALBERT ROSENBLATT: Thank you. Can I come over to your house later? I’m lonely and I don’t have any friends.

  MRS. HERSON: Well … actually … I kind of had plans tonight.

  PARKING ATTENDANT: Are you excluding him?

  MRS. HERSON: No, of course not! (Sighs.) Here’s my address, sir. The party starts at eight.

  ALBERT ROSENBLATT: I’ll show up a little early.

  MRS. HERSON: What’s that on your face?

  ALBERT ROSENBLATT: Mucus. I haven’t learned how to blow my nose yet, so I just go around like this all the time.

  MRS. HERSON: Oh.

  ALBERT ROSENBLATT: I’ll see you soon, inside of your house.

  I still remember the day I got my first calculator

  TEACHER: All right, children, welcome to fourth grade math. Everybody take a calculator out of the bin.

  ME: What are these?

  TEACHER: From now on we’ll be using calculators.

  ME: What do these things do?

  TEACHER: Simple operations, like multiplication and division.

  ME: You mean this device just … does them? By itself?

  TEACHER: Yes. You enter in the problem and press equal.

  ME: You … you knew about this machine all along, didn’t you? This whole time, while we were going through this … this charade with the pencils and the line paper and the stupid multiplication tables! … I’m sorry for shouting … It’s just… I’m a little blown away.

  TEACHER: Okay, everyone, today we’re going to go over some word problems.

  ME: What the hell else do you have back there? A magical pen that writes book reports by itself? Some kind of automatic social studies worksheet that … that fills itself out? What the hell is going on?

  TEACHER: If a farmer farms five acres of land a day–

  ME: So that’s it, then. The past three years have been a total farce. All this time I’ve been thinking, “Well, this is pretty hard and frustrating but I guess these are useful skills to have.” Meanwhile, there was a whole bin of these things in your desk. We could have jumped straight to graphing. Unless, of course, there’s some kind of graphing calculator!

  TEACHER: There is. You get one in ninth grade.

  ME: Is this … Am I on TV? Is this a prank show?

  TEACHER: No.

  Playing nice

  Dear fourth grade parents,

  In order to make sure no child gets hurt this year, the PTA has agreed to the following guidelines for birthday parties:

  If a child invites more than half of the class, he must invite the entire class, including Ivan.

  If a child only wants to invite a few best friends but Ivan hears that there’s a party, that child must invite Ivan and pretend that the party is for Ivan.

  If Ivan is at a party and he starts to have one of his fits, everyone else at the party (including parents) must pretend to have fits also so Ivan doesn’t feel that he’s the only one having a fit.

  When Ivan runs out of steam, nobody should talk about what just happened.

  If Ivan demands that a child invite him to a party, that child must invite Ivan to a party even if it’s not that child’s birthday and that child doesn’t have any party planned. The next day, at the party, everybody should pretend that it actually is that child’s birthday and Ivan was right about everything.

  If Ivan figures out somehow that the other children have been faking their fits, the children must be taken out of school until Ivan has one of his major breakdowns and loses his recent memory.

  No matter whose party it is, Ivan always blows out the candles and opens all the presents.

  Thank you,

  Mrs. Billings

  Our thoughts are with you

  Dear Mrs. Matthews,

  I am writing to express my deepest sympathies. I shared your last note with Caleb’s classmates and they made a card (which I have enclosed). Ten funerals in three weeks is a lot to ask of any child, let alone a child like Caleb, who has already suffered so many family deaths this month. At first, as humiliating as it is to admit, I thought your son had forged the notes. But denial quickly gave way to grief. I understand he has another funeral to attend on Wednesday and that it will last until Friday. Please let him know that he can take as much time off as he needs. I would volunteer to drop off Caleb’s homework myself, but I understand that your house recently exploded. Of all the tragedies that have befallen your family, this one saddened me the most. For a house to suddenly explode, without warning, destroying a child’s backpack and books, is very upsetting, particularly in the midst of your High Voodoo Holidays.

  I was also deeply saddened to learn that your son had suffered brain damage and could no longer complete his social studies assignments. To be hit with such a misfortune, on top of Tourette’s, is a blow to any child’s self-esteem, especially when that child already has the plague.

  Incidentally, I understand that Caleb has recently taken on some serious community service projects. I totally understand Caleb’s devotion to the blind, particularly in light of his own blindness. But I’m worried that his extracurricular activities might interfere with his school-work, especially on top of the pressures of his upcoming Voodoo Bar Mitzvah. Of course, it’s your decision.

  I would also like to take this opportunity to congratulate you on your son’s recent achievement! To be named an FBI super-spy at such a young age is an amazing accomplishment, particularly for a child who suffers from so many varied forms of brain damage. He hasn’t told me much about his mission, but from what I gather it sounds like an incredible opportunity. I’m going to miss his presence in the classroom next year, but it would be selfish of me to stand in his way. Caleb’s country needs him more than I do
. He belongs in Russia.

  Rest assured: I haven’t told anyone about Caleb’s mission, not even the principal. I am honoured that Caleb felt he could trust me with top secret information, and I would never betray that trust.

  Godspeed,

  Mr. Marks

  Letters from camp

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  Camp is fine so far. They have a rule that after lunch you have to either write a letter to your parents or take a shower. I’m writing a letter. This place is pretty fun except it’s so hot all the time that my skin sticks to my clothes.

  Love,

  Seth

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  I decided to write another letter, instead of the shower. The people in my bunk were like, “Come on, let’s take a shower Seth, it’ll be fun,” but I knew you guys would want to hear from me! Things are okay except we play too many sports and it’s hot and humid all the time.

  Love,

  Seth

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  Three letters in three days! You must be pretty excited to hear from me. Hold on, my counselor wants to write something. Hi, this is Craig Matthews, Seth’s bunk counselor writing. I need to talk to you about a pretty serious situation. I can be reached day or night via cell phone at 917-490-3902. Hi – it’s Seth again. I wonder what that’s all about?

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  Another day, another letter! Nothing much to report. Having some trouble making friends. I’ll write tomorrow.

  Love,

  Seth

  Dear Seth’s Mom,

  Hi this is Jeff and Evan from camp we are in Seth’s bunk we found your address by going through his things. Please tell your son to pick Shower instead of Letter tomorrow, we have a social with the girls’ camp from across the lake.

  Jeff and Evan

  Dear Seth’s Mom and Dad,

  This is Debbie from Camp Swan I met your son at a dance and got your address from his friends. I think it’s important that you know about what’s going on. Please write to me soon.

  Debbie

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  Greetings from the camp infirmary! I don’t feel sick, but the counselors said I needed a rest. I’m pretty far away from all the activities, but its pretty fun here. Every few hours I get up and see how many jumping jacks I can do without stopping and once a day, someone comes by to pick up my letter. Hope you’re enjoying Europe. I’ll see you in August.

  Love,

  Seth

  My mom’s all-time top five greatest boyfriends

  By Milo Farber, age 11

  5. Jared Miller

  This guy was awesome! He’s by far the strongest, biggest dude I’ve ever met. But that’s not all – he also plays for the Fort Wayne Warriors, my favourite minor-league hockey team! My mom dated Jared for a few days last summer, and every time he came to the house he gave me a regulation Fort Wayne Warriors hockey puck. By the end I had five pucks! Once I ran into him in the kitchenette in the middle of the night. He was making a sandwich. I couldn’t believe there was a real hockey player in my house. I wanted to say something, but I was too nervous so I just stood there. Then after a while he looked at me and said, “Hey, little buddy. How’s your skating?” And I said, “Fine!”

  4. Olaf Seidenberg

  Olaf wasn’t as strong as Jared, but he was just as cool because he also played hockey for the Fort Wayne Warriors! He only dated my mom once, so I only had one chance to talk to him. Still, it was pretty awesome. It was in the middle of the night. I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the kitchenette and there he was, Olaf Seidenberg, in my house! I asked him to sign my regulation pucks and he said he would. He couldn’t believe I had so many pucks! “Wow, kid,” he said, “you’re a real fan.” He autographed all five of them and wrote “16” next to his name, which is his number!

  3. Martin Pavlovsky

  This guy also played hockey for the Fort Wayne Warriors! He had four goals and two assists in 2006–2007, which isn’t great but it was only his first year. When I asked him to sign my regulation Fort Wayne Warriors pucks next to Olaf’s signature, he made a weird scrunched-up face and stared at my mother for a while, like he was confused. I guess he doesn’t understand a lot of English because he’s from the Czech Republic.

  2. Bill Passman

  This guy played for the Fort Wayne Warriors. He was an okay goalie, but he had some bad luck so his save percentage was only .899. I liked him because his name has the word “Pass” in it, which is a hockey word – and he plays hockey. I only saw Bill once, in the kitchenette. I couldn’t believe there was a real hockey player in my house! So I ran into my bedroom and grabbed the old cigar box I use to hold my pucks. When I came back with the box, my mother kept saying that I should go to bed. “Not now, Milo,” she started shouting. “Please!” She can be really strict. Anyway, I could tell Bill wanted to see what was in the box so I opened it. “Wow,” he said, “you must be my number one fan!” I gave him a puck and told him to sign it next to Olaf’s and Nicolas’s signatures. (Nicolas was another one of my mom’s boyfriends, but he didn’t make the top five.) At first he looked a little confused. He said something under his breath, and I was scared he wasn’t going to sign my pucks at all. But then he took out a pen and signed all of them! It was weird, because he didn’t look at the pucks when he signed them. Instead, the whole time he was staring at my mother. His signature was pretty cool – better than Nicolas’s but not as good as Olaf’s.

  1. Bobby Lambert

  This guy is great at hockey! He had forty points in the 2006–2007 season with my favourite hockey team, the Fort Wayne Warriors. He went out with my mom for almost two weeks. I didn’t get to see him very often because my mom had made a rule that I couldn’t leave my room when her boyfriends were over. Still, one night I decided to sneak out of my room and wait in the kitchenette. I mean, how many chances do you get to see a real hockey player in your own house? When I showed Bobby my puck collection, he was super-impressed. “What the hell is going on?” he kept saying. “What the goddamn hell is going on?” Then he looked at my mom and started to cry! It was awesome because I always feel ashamed when I cry. But I thought, If a guy like Bobby Lambert can cry, an AHL all-star centre with thirty-five assists, then it’s okay if I do too. Bobby kept crying and I was so blown away that I started crying too. And when I went over to him, he hugged me with his huge arms and it was like I had just scored a goal and he had given me the assist.

  Math problems

  UNIT 4 TEST

  Please show your work.

  A name-brand bottle of rum costs $12.95. The generic brand sells for $7.50. If a math teacher buys 4 bottles of generic rum each week, how much does he save each month? How much does he save each year? How much money does the teacher save over the course of 11 years?

  A math teacher’s new apartment is approximately 12 ft. long and 5 ft. wide, and the bathroom takes up 50% of the apartment. A normal human-size bed is 6 ft. × 3 ft. Does the math teacher have enough room for a standard bed? Or will he have to sleep in some kind of dog bed?

  By order of the high courts, a math teacher must keep 1,000 ft. away from his ex-wife at all times. Say, theoretically, she lives on 63rd and York, exactly halfway between the math teacher’s apartment and his school. How far out of his way does the teacher have to walk every morning just to keep from getting arrested?

  After 11 years of service, a math teacher receives an $80 gift certificate to Shaw’s Gas in lieu of a raise. How much of that money will be left after taxes? Express in bottles of rum.

  Frogs

  – Hey, can I ask you something? Why do human children dissect us?

  – It’s part of their education. They cut open our bodies in school and write reports about their findings.

  – Huh. Well, I guess it could be worse, right? I mean, at least we’re not dying in vain.

  – How do you figure?

  – Well… our deaths are furthering the spread of knowledge. It’s a huge sacrifice we’re making,
but at least some good comes out of it.

  – Let me show you something.

  – What’s this?

  – It’s a frog dissection report.

  – Who wrote it?

  – A fourteen-year-old human from New York City. Some kid named Simon.

  – (flipping through it) This is it? This is the whole thing?

  – Uh-huh.

  – Geez … it doesn’t look like he put a whole lot of time into this.

  – Look at the diagram on the last page.

  – Oh my God … it’s so crude. It’s almost as if he wasn’t even looking down at the paper while he was drawing it. Like he was watching TV or something.

  – Read the conclusion.

  – In conclusion, frogs are a scientific wonder of biology. What does that even mean?

  – It doesn’t mean anything.

  – Why are the margins so big?

  – He was trying to make it look as if he had written five pages, even though he had only written four.

  – He couldn’t come up with one more page of observations about our dead bodies?

  – I guess not.

  – This paragraph looks like it was copied straight out of an encyclopedia. I’d be shocked if he retained any of this information.

  – Did you see that he spelled “science” wrong in the heading?

  – Whoa … I missed that. That’s incredible.

  – He didn’t even bother to run it through spell check.

  – Who did he dissect?

  – Harold.

  – Betsy’s husband? Jesus. So this is why Harold was killed. To produce this … “report.”

  – (Nods.) This is why his life was taken from him.

  (long pause)

  – Well, at least it has a cover sheet.

  – Yeah. The plastic’s a nice touch.

  I can only think of two scenarios where high school math would come in handy

  1

  MURDERER: I’m a crazy person. Do this trigonometry problem or I’ll murder you.