THINGS ADULTS DO

1. Ice Trays. When I was growing up, ice trays were always a huge bone of contention in our house. Someone would always replace an empty tray without refilling, my mother would find the empty metal shell and all hell would break loose. It wasn’t me, I was smart enough to leave One Cube and everyone knows that didn’t count. Now when I empty the tray, I begin to replace it and Betty says “It will only take you a second.” It does and the resulting Ice Abundance seems like a luxury.

2. Getting gas. After 15 years of living careless in NYC, I reentered the Autosphere upon my relocation to L.A. I quickly learned three lessons - 1) cars don’t have meters, 2) you have to monitor your drinking (no more stumbling into a cab) and 3) cars require gas. Duh, you may say, but I can’t tell you how many times I coasted into a station before getting the point. Now I’m a pro. Getting gas is about Taking Care of Things, filling your tank responsibly, handling flammables while trying to look confident. Soldiers, policemen, Superheros get gas. Scaredy-cat dizzy queens do not.

3. Breakfast. Coffee, the New York Times, a smoke while the Kids grab their lunch and run for the bus. Man O’ The World with my trusty mate Polly at my side. I say, old chap, do you mind getting me some bacon? Of course not, my dear Polly, I would be delighted. Civilized and urbane adults on the boulevard.

4. Writing checks. Until recently, I had ceased writing checks. I would either Debit or Credit or get a money order for rent. I actually had no idea where my checks were and when I found them the address was three years old. I reordered and now I’m writing them, uh, a few times, possibly the only reason I ever write by hand anymore. As a result, my signature has become more of a gesture. The date thing was surprisingly easy but the amount line where you write out the number... damn, that’s just cruel. I’d write something goofy like “Ninety and nine and no/100”, the kind of detail I imagine detectives on Law and Order point out as evidence. He was so detached while, uh, paying his rent he couldn’t even write by hand. See the extra “and”?

5. Dishes. I never want to grow up.

10:03:58 PM    sro home /