Free Comedy at Trader Joe’s

I promise you I’m not lying. I saw this last week. Trader Joe’s. Pico and 32nd.

A woman who looks like a taller, thinner, more wasted, more scabby, more scarred and scratched, more blonde, more botoxed lips, more wildly dressed and more grovelly voiced Courtney Love is flailing down the aisles but stopping to meticulously read the ingredients on every package of hummus or cheese that she picks up.

An old man is standing next to her. He dressed like he’s about to go to Sunday Mass. He’s pleading, “But Miss. You should keep your cart with you.”

Lady: “Ahhhhh. There’s no room in here! So I leave it over there!” (Flail, flail, sniff, snort, clears throat, groan)

Man: “At least take your purse with you. It’s just sitting there.”

Lady: “Sir, you’re so sweet. You know (getting angry for no reason) people are always coming up to me and saying, ‘Miss. Miss. Your purse is over there in another aisle. Go get it!”

Man: “Yes. Well I think you’re the type of person that people feel they need to take care of.”

She says nothing and smiles. She continues to study this piece of brie cheese. He stands there next to her with his hands folded neatly at his chest.

Man: “Uh, miss. Your purse, it’s just wide open. There are dollar bills hanging out of it. And you’re not attending to it.”

Lady: “Look. People always say this. And you know what? What am I afraid of? I would never steal from anyone, even if it was right there in front of me. So how could I ever assume that other people would steal? If I wouldn’t, how can I judge others?”

The man seems almost changed by this. He stammers, “Well, uh, Miss. That’s a wonderful philosophy and I admire you for standing by it. I hope it works for you.”

She’s already back staring at the brie cheese label and she tosses off, “It don’t work. Someone stole seven hundred dollars from me yesterday. CASH”

And then she walked off leaving her cart with her open purse behind her. I swear to God if I saw this as a sketch in a show I’d think, “What a dumb, wah, wah, wah, ending. Who wrote this shit?”


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