I Like You

by Amy Sedaris

  It’s wise to make a list before you go shopping. I like to make a list but I never look at it until after I’ve left the store and then I test myself to see if I have forgotten something. Another thing I like to do is never ask where an item is: I would rather look for it than hear them say they don’t have it. I like that feeling of hope. I don’t use coupons because I don’t want to bother the cashier, but it would probably be a good idea to do so because coupons equal money.

  Growing up, I went grocery shopping with my father every Friday night. I learned a lot of tricks, like if you reach far back enough into the shelf, you might be fortunate to find a can that hasn’t been marked up because sometimes clerks are too lazy to reach all the way back and change them. If you have a guinea pig, hamster, or rabbit, you can get discarded greens from the produce department for free. If you have a dog, the butcher often has bones he’s not using.

  I wish products still came with presents. I remember buying syrup and there would be a roll of Scotch tape with it, or a smoked drinking glass with laundry detergent, or dog food would have a pair of knee-highs. I still haven’t figured that one out. Tape and syrup makes sense to me because they’re both sticky, but dog food and knee-highs? Is it because that’s the point of view of the dog? I also like to see where castaway items end up, when people change their minds at the last minute and drop the item they are holding wherever it’s convenient. Once I saw a chicken resting in the spice section. Nobody’s going to buy that chicken now or the spices it was resting on (see Contamination).

  I once read that illiterate people shop by the pictures on the package. They might think that a powdered sugar box with a picture of brownies on it promises they’ll find brownies inside, or a can of Crisco contains fried chicken or a whole piece of cherry pie.

  Also I noticed in some stores that accept food stamps that they lock certain items up, like vanilla and baby formula, so that you have to find a manager with a key to get it for you. When buying vanilla, always make sure the bottles are full. Twice I’ve gotten home and found the vanilla bottles were empty, bone dry. If you know someone who owns a restaurant, you could ask them to order a bottle of vanilla for you because they get it wholesale and it’s so expensive. A great gift idea for bakers.

  Be able to get the most out of what you buy. If I have a choice between something packaged in a box or a bag, I’ll pick the boxed item because I can use the empty box later to put cookies in, transport three cupcakes, or bury a turtle. I also buy Land O Lakes butter because I can get a card out of it.

  If you have the opportunity to go to specialty shops (cheese, green grocer, fish monger, bakery, etc.), do so. Often the selection is better, the merchant is more knowledgeable, and the food is fresher. Don’t forget the American farmer. Farmers’ markets are where food is at its freshest. Going to a farmers’ market is worth it for the atmosphere alone—great accents and people watching. I don’t know how fruits and vegetables are supposed to feel when you buy them, but I do know that someone does. If you need to know, look it up or ask somebody who does. I don’t. Although, I do know two things: the heavier the orange, the more the juice, and a Vidalia onion can be eaten like an apple. It says so on the box.

  Shop Talk

  • Don’t buy fish on Sunday.

  • If you do not work 9 to 5, go shopping 9 to 5. The same applies to laundry, be considerate.

  • When ordering in a deli, announce loudly how many items you’ll be ordering so customers behind you know what to expect and won’t be irritated. The same applies in chocolate shops.

  • Government checks are issued on the 1st and the 15th, which means crowds of families on these dates. Keep that in mind.

  • Don’t shop from someone else’s food cart.

  • Buy organic lemons, if for no other reason than because the puckered tips make great nipples to stuff in your bra.

  • Notice in local health food stores how unhealthy the people tend to look.

  • And notice in heliolithic stores that when you throw out “thanks” they hear that and respond sincerely, so if you say “thank you,” mean it.

  • Cashiers will notice patterns like ice cream at midnight three days in a row. The same is true for liquor. Rotate your stores.

  • If you genuinely see something you can compliment your cashier on, do it. It’ll make their day. Conversely, if you want to destroy their day, ask to see the manager.

  • Remember, grocery store butchers always tuck the fat.

  TCB-ING IT!

  I love that time before a party when your mind kicks into high gear, like a lightning bolt, and you realize the party is quickly approaching and you still have everything to do and you’re still in bed. This is when I’m at my best. Racing against the clock gives me an adrenaline rush that even my dealer can’t provide. This manic energy carries through to the party and often ignites my guests. I call this my TCB (Taking Care of Business) time. It’s important to roll with this feeling, whether it strikes you a week or a minute before the party. You will find that during this period you will have your most productive moments, allowing valuable breathing room when the actual party arrives.

  When I get struck with this force, I usually start with cleaning the house, because not only does cleaning have to be done before a party, it is a mindless chore that gives my imagination the chance to run wild and it’s in these moments that I come up with the same old ideas that will make my party original. For some people, this mindless activity might be a walk or painting a door or rocking back and forth at a rapid pace but, regardless, letting your imagination loose is the best part of busy work.

  I always feel grateful to have a sink full of dirty dishes when I’m mad at somebody. It gives me something to do with my hands, which allows me the freedom to imagine all the horrific ways they might catch fire or be set up for a false drug bust that will imprison them forever.

  I also use this energy to inspire my decorations. I like decorations that are simple and inexpensive. If it’s Calabash Seafood Night, maybe I’ll put a conch shell in a beach hat and use clamshells for ashtrays. If it’s South of the Border Night, I’ll get out my tablecloth with donkeys and napping peasants and place a sombrero with a chip-filled brim in the center of the table (see picture, page 255). I might make flowers out of tissue paper (see page 283), or cut them out of paper plates and pin them to my curtains and walls or iron leaves between pieces of wax paper and hang them in my windows (see page 190).

  Gift wrap the framed artwork on your walls and rehang them—what’s nicer than a wall of presents to look at? For me, a handmade decoration that expresses the theme of the party cannot be beat. Occasionally, when some of my more crafty friends are invited they will contribute to the party decorations during the party. It makes for a fun party activity. I’m also a sucker for anything with “googly” eyes, those shakable eyes that are often attached to puppet skulls or doll heads. I’ve always said that when I die, I want to be displayed in an open casket with googly eyes replacing my own.

  Also during this time I decide what I’m going to wear. I like to think of my outfits more like costumes. Once I step into the role of being a hostess, I want to feel transformed. The perfect outfit will help set the party tone and immediately puts your company in a festive mood. You might want to try on your outfit before the party to make sure it still fits. Your guests should be noticing the rolls on the table, not the rolls on your back. I love aprons. I feel naked without one on. Often, an apron can pull a whole outfit together and hide some of the trouble spots. Not all clothes are appropriate for entertaining. You wouldn’t want to wear a bikini when panfrying pork chops any more than anything with wizard sleeves or flammable when you are serving food on fire, like shish kebabs or cherries jubilee.

  During my TCB time, I might marinate ribs or pre-roll silverware in a napkin if I’m serving buffet style. I never set the table with valuable silver because with the type of friends I have, I can’t keep it in the house. I might also prepare a do-ahead dish o
r clean the rabbit hay box to reduce that ever- present goat smell. I always start making ice in advance and then tub it. I think it’s cheating to go out and buy a bag unless it’s specialty ice, such as crushed, shaved, or chipped. Nothing depresses me more than an empty ice cube tray. The point is to take advantage of the energy burst you get from the excitement of soon hosting a party.

  The Day of the Party

  I never dread the day of the party, I’m eager: I can’t wait for my company to arrive. Rarely do I have the jitters, because, like a good Girl Scout (which I was until the day they forced me out), I am prepared. I’ve done all my TCB-ing and now I have an entire day to attend to small details and light chores, while still allowing me some time for myself. I take my time bathing, check for lumps, and dress leisurely.

  The more you’ve TCB-ed it, the better prepared you’ll be for the unexpected surprises or disasters that are bound to happen the day of the party. Once I had a refrigerator break down on Thanksgiving Day. Luckily I lived in Chicago and it was cold enough to set everything on the porch. Another time I had a surprise attack visit from a plumber saying he needed to remove my toilet in order to look for leaks an hour before my guests were to arrive. Then there was the time I planned a party around a Virginia smoked ham from North Carolina and it never showed up. It still hasn’t. I had to run out, and all I could find last minute was a honey-glazed ham, which threw everything else off, especially my side dishes. Sometimes you’re the cause of your own mishap. One Easter I put a deboned leg of lamb in the oven and forgot to turn it on; I was too dressed up to notice. I suppose I cared more about how I looked than how I cooked. When I returned to check on it, the oven was stone cold and inside rested a sagging, uncooked leg of lamb.

  When a major setback occurs, don’t snap your bean. Make a joke out of the situation, turn it around. Take a snapshot of the rump roast you just dropped and send everyone a copy the next day. Your relaxed attitude will put everyone at ease. During a crisis, it may be a good time to ask a friend to play deputy hostess. While you spend time mopping up the gravy or smothering the grease fire, your newly appointed second-in-command can temporarily attend to the needs of guests, such as refreshing their drinks or clearing their empty plates.

  Lighting should flatter your guests. Think mood lighting. Use it to create a magical illusion where your guests look appetizing to one another but it’s not so dark that your guests appear as vague shadowy figures. You’ve worked hard to create a colorful menu, let them see it. Think warm gentle tones where the result will be “Lady, can I get you a drink?” instead of “Lady, can I get you a cab?”

  DRINK

  CAB

  Candles cast a pleasant glow, but don’t overdo it; you’re not hosting a sacrifice (see “Blind Date,” page 47). If you use scented candles, make sure they complement the aroma of the food. If you must use overhead lighting, it’s a bright idea to have a dimmer.

  Your music is just as important as your lighting. I often use it to create an atmosphere that will enhance the mood, not dominate it. You don’t want the room to feel dead any more than you want it to feel like a roller disco.

  Make your music selections before the party. The last thing people want to hear as they settle onto your couch with a drink and an appetizer is, “What does everybody want to listen to?” Actually that is the second-to-last thing people want to hear at a party. The first is, “All right, everybody take off your shoes and sit on the floor, we’re going Japanese!”

  If you’re going to have flowers, then have flowers. Don’t just have one bunch stuck in a glass on a shelf. And remember not all flowers smell as good inside as they do outside. You will also want to consider the color and style of the flowers you choose. They should complement your theme and decorations. Fill the room with cherry blossoms for a Spring Soiree, carnations for grieving (see page 122), and tulips jammed in clogs when entertaining the Dutch.

  If you are serving cocktails and need some extra room for a blender or beverages use your ironing board and cover it with a nice tablecloth. I always keep a package of T-shirts handy in case someone is burning up and needs to shed a layer. I have prescription allergy medicine at the ready for those guests who discover they are allergic to lobster claws or stone crab. I keep a box of Nat Sherman colored party cigarettes in my freezer for those people who just want “one” (see picture, page 130).

  The day of the party is also the time when I go around the house organizing my sale items. I may have failed to mention earlier, but I like to make money from my party guests (see “Money Jar,” below).

  The Money Jar (Entertaining for Profit)

  As I mentioned earlier (see “The Day of the Party,” page 31), I like to make money at my parties. It all started with my Funny Face Club. I would pencil draw smiley faces on pieces of notebook paper with “25 cents” written in the corner and go door to door trying to sell them. I also collected Coke bottles, set up Kool-Aid stands, sang country songs at the airport, and got rid of people’s pumpkins all for the price of 25 cents. Still, to this day, there is virtually no situation that comes up that I don’t see as a ripe opportunity to make 25 cents. And there is nothing riper than a party. You’ve got a large group of people, they’re liquored up, they are in a giving mood, and they are confined to your home. Cha-ching. Trust me, this involves a lot less legwork than trying to sell pencil drawings of smiley faces door to door. I’ve come a long way from dragging rotting jack-o’-lanterns into the middle of the street. Today, in order to make 25 cents, my methods are much more refined. They include indoor garage sales, exploiting my rabbit, or selling commercial barbecue sauce repackaged with my face on the label.

  It is simple to set up an indoor garage sale. Create a display table and make a sign that reads, “Everything Must Go, 25 Cents” and you’ve got yourself a garage sale. I also place an enamel cup on the table with a smaller “25 Cents” sign on it so customers have a place to drop a quarter in. I usually customize the “for sale” items on my table to fit my guests’ personalities. Products could include anything from half bottles of fancy lotion, pharmaceutical goods, handmade items, movies, dish detergent, pot holders, matches, lighters, toothbrushes, motel toiletries, used batteries, shells, postcards, tea bags, and any kind of makeshift container for aspirin or vitamins. For those guests who use the excuse “I really can’t buy anything, because I’m traveling tomorrow and I don’t want any of this stuff in my bag,” I offer my cupcakes. If, after being confronted with a cupcake, they use the excuse “I’m hypoglycemic,” then I get angry. Don’t put anything on the table that is not for sale, it’s annoying.

  For larger items, I place a box outside my door. This is usually filled with such bargains as fans, buckets, pillows, vases, frames, pans, handbags, and hospitality books. I personally man the box because it’s more about the transaction than the quarter. I try to keep the line moving by putting a limit on browsing, and I’m careful not to be too chatty with each customer.

  I have three simple rules for shoppers.

  RULE 1: It has to be a quarter, can’t be three nickels and a dime or two dimes and a nickel. They are not worth the money they are worth.

  RULE 2: You breakey, you boughty.

  RULE 3: You boughty, you takey.

  The point is to get the stuff out of my house.

  Another great way to make money is the instant camera. A must-have for all parties. You can have your picture taken with my rabbit for 25 cents, couples 25 cents apiece. I make souvenir booklets using construction paper, fold them in half, insert the snapshot on the inside jacket and personalize the outside (see picture, page 286). And then of course, I’ll laminate a baby picture or other personal item from your wallet or customize a lighter by wrapping sticky shelf paper around it. First one’s free (see “Personalized Lighters,” page 288).

  Ding Dong, Guests Arriving

  When I was a waitress, I learned that the most important position in a restaurant is the host. It’s the host’s job to welcome the guests, and it
is often the first thing the guests see. I like to think of my front door as my greeter. For other people it might be their butler or a bush. I try to make my door inviting. I try to have it speak for me since I have a limited vocabulary. I want my door to set the tone and give the arriving guest a glimpse into the festivities. For an Autumn Harvest, I’ll put a squirrel surrounded by cutouts of acorns or leaves with my friends’ names on them. Or maybe for April Showers I’ll make umbrella shapes and rain clouds using cotton balls and string. Sometimes I’ll take the eviction notice off my neighbor’s apartment door and slap it on my own (also a good item to have when invited to someone else’s home). Even when there is no specific holiday, I have a special knocker and a hand-painted apartment number. Let your door represent you.

  Once your door swings open, your party has started. This is where your hospitality will shine. Greet each guest with genuine enthusiasm. Give them your full attention. If you are excited, they will be excited. Allow your guests to soak up the environment you have created. There is no need to point things out. They don’t need to be made aware of how much work you’ve done right away; you’ve got plenty of time to tell them. And don’t show it in your appearance either. You must look radiant; no one wants to open the door to a tired, anxious, overworked raccoon-eyed hostess. It should appear as though you’ve used witchcraft. The party should seem effortless.

  If your guests bring a little something-something, make a mental note or discreetly write it down so you can acknowledge it when they are leaving. Let’s say Lily brought over ice cream and I just realized that she has a wandering eye. Now I can associate her wandering eye with the ice cream she brought. I will remember that Lily brought ice cream because I got “the scoop” on her eye. Simple. If J.D. brought mushrooms and he has a toad-stool shaped mole sprouting from the side of his nose, make a mental note. This way, if you send off a thank-you card you can be specific. Everyone likes to receive a little feedback on gifts, especially if they put a lot of time and thought into them.