She had a long-time imaginary boyfriend named Ricky... Who worked as a grip in Argentina, brought her back saffron, lost all of his tools in a camper fire and suffered a stroke. She and Ricky had a baby, Hercules, the around same time that David Letterman's son was born. Amy said they had been "trying for hours." She briefly had a know-it-all imaginary dog named Douglas, but he went away when she ran out of random facts for him to know. She also had an imaginary monkey named Pockets. (amysedarisrocks.com)Diehard fans of his NPR appearances and New Yorker vignettes will know brother David's catalog of drolleries backwards and forwards. I doubt he needs an introduction from me to Daedalus followers! Savory holiday classics that will live on in the annals of unbridled laughter, there are bits both old and new in Holidays on Ice (e.g., incensed reviews of holiday theatricals at elementary schools; the lady of the evening who came for Christmas Eve; David devouring his Halloween candy rather than hand it over to dorky neighbors who came a day late).
The woman at Macy's asked, "Would you be interested in full-time elf or evening and weekend elf?"[In order to learn more about our customers and improve our website we would like to ask you to take a brief survey. It should only take about ten minutes to complete, and to express our appreciation we'd like to take 10% off of your next order. Once you've finished the survey, we'll tell you how to apply a 10% discount on your next order. This special offer will expire on May 31, 2012.]
I said, "Full-time elf."
I have an appointment next Wednesday at noon.
I am a thirty-three-year-old man applying for a job as an elf.
I often see people on the streets dressed as objects and handing out leaflets. I tend to avoid leaflets but it breaks my heart to see a grown man dressed as a taco. So, if there is a costume involved, I tend not only to accept the leaflet, but to accept it graciously, saying, "Thank you so much," and thinking, You poor, pathetic son of a bitch. I don't know what you have but I hope I never catch it. This afternoon on Lexington Avenue I accepted a leaflet from a man dressed as a camcorder. Hot dogs, peanuts, tacos, video cameras, these things make me sad because they don't fit in on the streets. In a parade, maybe, but not on the streets. I figure that at least as an elf I will have a place; I'll be in Santa's Village with all the other elves. We will reside in a fluffy wonderland surrounded by candy canes and gingerbread shacks. It won't be quite as sad as standing on some street corner dressed as a french fry.
I am trying to look on the bright side. I arrived in New York three weeks ago with high hopes, hopes that have been challenged. In my imagination I'd go straight from Penn Station to the offices of "One Life to live," where I would drop off my bags and spruce up before heading off for drinks with Cord Roberts and Victoria Buchannon, the show's greatest stars. We'd sit in a plush booth at a tony cocktail lounge where my new celebrity friends would lift their frosty glasses in my direction and say, "A toast to David Sedaris, the best writer this show has ever had!!!"
I'd say, "You guys, cut it out." It was my plan to act modest. (from SantaLand Diaries; more here)