the ocean

With the quarantine going on and on, I'm not really doing that much besides work, frankly. And the stuff I am doing I don't really want to write about because I don't want people to judge me. (Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm clubbing maskless or anything.) So I've decided to start dipping into my vault for some never-before-seen but effort-free content. To start, here's a never-produced sketch I wrote a few years back:

Brunch!

by Jay Schleppenbach

(Beth, Kim, Jill, and Liz are having brunch, laughing.)

BETH: … so I picked all the Skittles up off the floor and put my top back on.

KIM: Wow. Are you going to see him again?

BETH: I kind of have to. He’s my financial planner.

(The waiter comes over.)

WAITER: Can I get you ladies anything to drink?

JILL: Oh, not for me, I had kind of a rough night last night.

LIZ: Me either. I’m planning to go to the gym after this.

KIM: I’ve got to go to work.

BETH: I’m performing surgery this afternoon.

WAITER: Ok, so four waters?

KIM: Well now he seems upset.

LIZ: I don’t want to be rude.

JILL: Maybe just a mimosa. To take the edge off.

LIZ: Me too.

KIM: Make that three.

BETH: Mimosas all around.

(The waiter goes.)

LIZ: So rough night last night?

JILL: Oh yes. Suffice it to say, never agree to follow a ska band to a second location. Unless you’re good waking up to someone cutting your hair.

BETH: I’ve had worse.

KIM: Please don’t tell the Lindsey Graham story.

BETH: So I was buying leggings at Urban Outfitters – this was like ten years ago – and I ran into Lindsey Graham…

(The waiter returns, interrupting.)

WAITER: Here you are, four mimosas. You know, we do have a bottomless mimosa special on Saturdays.

LIZ: Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly. I’m driving, after all.

JILL: I’m babysitting my niece and nephew later.

BETH: I’m not even really supposed to drink with my medication.

KIM: And I’m still on probation.

WAITER: That’s fine. Just wanted to let you know. Have we thought about…

JILL: It does sound like a good value, though.

KIM: I don’t want to waste money.

BETH: I mean what with the economy and all.

LIZ: And don’t forget the pay gap.

WAITER: So bottomless all around?

KIM: Geez! Twist my arm!

(The waiter leaves.)

JILL: So what did you all do last night?

LIZ: Nothing much. My friend was getting a Latin Grammy, so we did that. Gift bags were super lame, by the way.

KIM: So true. This guy I used to hang out with is thinking about upgrading his private jet, so we were just, like, flying in jets. Personally I think the ten seater is little bit much, but I’m kind of old school like that.

BETH: With you! I was just kind of Netflixing and chilling last night. I mean, I was with the founder of Netflix, so I kind of had to, but it was pretty legit.

(The waiter returns.)

WAITER: So I just brought a pitcher of mimosas, so you’ll kind of have them when you need them. Have we thought about food?

KIM: Oh, I’m not eating. I had a big dinner on Thursday, so I’m still kind of working off that.

LIZ: I’m doing Weight Watchers, except I don’t really understand the points, so I just eat nothing but whole wheat toast and chewy Sprees.

BETH: Do you maybe have like some saltines and ketchup packets back there?

JILL: I get all of my nutrients intravenously.

WAITER: Uh… I can check with the kitchen and see…

BETH: Well we don’t want you to have to go to any trouble.

KIM: No, of course not. I guess I’ll just have the Lumberjack’s Breakfast with a side of biscuits and gravy.

JILL: The Hobo Skillet, but can I get it with extra mayonnaise?

WAITER: There’s no mayonnaise in it, so…

JILL: Just on the side, then.

LIZ: Can I order off your dinner menu? I’d like the half chicken and a rack of ribs, please.

BETH: Do you serve anything you can butcher in front of me? I like to look my meal in the eyes and see the fear there.

WAITER: No, I’m afraid we don’t keep much livestock on hand here.

BETH: Oh well. Side salad, no dressing, no cheese, no croutons, then, please.

WAITER: Ok, so lettuce. I’ll put that in for you now.

(The waiter leaves.)

LIZ: All right, I’ll say what we’re all thinking: that waiter is so into us!

KIM: I know, right? He so reminds me of this Uber driver I had the other day, who was all “mam, there will be a cleanup fee if you throw up in this car,” but it was so clear that he, like, wanted me bad.

JILL: Oh my God, that happens to me too! Like when I was arguing with that woman at my dry cleaners because she falsely claimed she could get human blood out of silk, and I could totally tell she was thinking about kissing me.

BETH: My entire relationship with Neil Patrick Harris was like that.

(The waiter returns with waters.)

LIZ: Oh no, oh no. I know what’s coming. I’m telling you, I can’t possibly have dessert. I’m huge. And I have Blake Shelton’s pool party coming up.

BETH: I’m running out of ribs to have removed.

JILL: I have a form of diabetes so rare they named it after me.

KIM: And I was planning on slipping out and assuming a new identity.

WAITER: Uh, I haven’t even brought your main courses yet. I’m just bringing you some more water.

LIZ: Oh, well in that case, do you know where we can get some crystal meth?

(Blackout.)

So the Fourth of July came and went. Usually we go to a friend's party for the holiday, but of course everything is cancelled this year for the plague, so this year I was just with my mom and my sister's family. We watched Hamilton on Disney+, which was surprisingly entertaining for something I've heard enough times to more or less have memorized. We also taught the kids to play MarioKart, by which I mean they each sat in someone's lap and jerked on the controller occasionally, resulting in a race where two of the eight drivers just sat in the grass the whole time. So yeah, fairly solid. Aubrey got so scared of the fireworks that she basically shed ten pounds, but that's an annual affair.

Going back to work after (of course not in sense of physically changing locations, God forbid) was not easy, I must admit. This week seemed really long and kind of unnecessary. It's almost as though conference calls and online shopping can't fill the void from, you know, actually leaving the house. We did finish the first season of Friday Night Lights, because this is the mid zeros and we're all still rocking tube TVs and clamshell phones, which we rather enjoyed. It's too bad they never gave out Emmys for best hair, or Connie Britton would not have been so unjustly overlooked. We also discovered an online conspiracy theory that posits that Wayfair is selling child sex slaves disguised as $10,000 cabinets, so that's something. The Internet really does know everything.