30-Second Plays (PART ONE):

I have a habit of frequently running into situations that while being entirely navigable to the socially aware, cause me to crash and burn in an awkward series of personal confessions to complete strangers and unfortunate sentences coming out of my face region. Like that one. While some would hide these uncomfy reminders of why you weren't popular in middle school, I prefer to post them on public forum.

I also have been privileged enough to surround myself with some phenomenally charming and bizzarre loved ones who both humor my sometimes failed attempts at being clever, while sprinkling in their bits of delightful banter along the way. From my upbeat, whimsical mother to my witty, sarcastic best friend and all of the wonderful characters that fall in between, I have some seriously amazing inspiration in my life. These are the mostly true 30 second plays:

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(At the hair salon)
Stylist: So you're a writer? What kind of stories do you like to write?
Me: They seem to be largely revolving around mental illness and dead children as of late.
Stylist: Oh.
(Resumes cutting hair in silence)

Because lying and saying "romantic comedies" would've just been too socially convenient.

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(Grammar day in Advanced Writing)

Professor: Note the use of "Which" in the example, "Dogs, which can be trained to do nearly anything, love to work and to play".
Me: Wait, so why can't you say "Dogs, who can be trained to do nearly anything"?
Professor: Because "who" only refers to people.
(Pause. Putting it together)
Me: And dogs... aren't... people...
Professor: You learn something new everyday. Moving on.

Liberal Education is hard.

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(Angry phone call with Landlord)

Me: I've been having problems with this for three months now. Century Link had to add a new location for me to get internet, I have all of my bills coming to this address but I can't get any of them if I don't have a mailbox.
Landlord: Your mailbox should be out front.
Me: It's not, there's only 4 mailboxes. I live in apartment 5.
Landlord: You live in apartment 4.
(Silence)
Me: Really?
Landlord: Really. There's only 4 units.
Me: I'm gonna go ahead and hang up now.
Landlord: Have a good night.

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(Mom about to leave for the grocery store)

Me: Can you grab me some DayQuil?
Mom: Cold medicine doesn't work. You just stop caring because you're high as a DayQuil kite.
Me: That's not even a little true.
Mom: High as a DayQuil kite.
Me: You really shouldn't be allowed to practice medicine.
Mom: DayQuil kite.

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(In line at the coffee shop in Minneapolis institute of Art. A man in a suit enters and stands next to the line, staring at the cashier)

Cashier: Can I help you sir?
Man: I'm looking for magic.
Cashier: Magic is everywhere.
(Man considers this)
Man: thank you.
(Man exits)

I either observed a beautiful artistic exchange or a drug deal.

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(Texting my mom)

Me: Walter's officially wearing an adult cat collar! I got him a fancy leather one. I'm so emotional.
Mom: Just wait until he's about to graduate from college...
Me: True. How come you never bought me fancy leather collars?
Mom: I wanted you to aim slightly higher than sideshow stripper.

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(Discussing text abbreviations with my best friend, Erin)

Erin: I pretty much text how I write.
Me: Yeah, the only one I really abbreviate is "cuz", because "because"-
(Brief silence. Eyes lock.)
Me/Erin: BECAUSE OF THE WONDERFUL THINGS HE DOES.

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(In line at the UMD food court)

Me: Hi, I'll have a soft shell taco please.
Food Court Lady: Do you mean a gyro?
Me: Why would I mean that?
Food Court Lady: This is The Daily Special. We don't sell tacos. We sell daily specials. Which is a gyro.
Me: Oh, I must be in the wrong line, sorry.
Food Court Lady: No, we actually got rid of the taco place.
(Holding up bag of Doritos)
Me: But I was going to make a taco in a bag!
Food Court Lady: You want gyro in a bag?
Me: I can't... I just... I have to go... 

(Emotionally run out of the food court, out of UMD and into my bed to cry forever)

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(Opening fortune cookies at a Thai restaurant with friend, Willis)

Willis: Wanna play the fortune cookie game?
Me: How?
Will: Add "in bed" to your fortune.
Me: "Do not stop dreaming, otherwise sleeping will become boring"... in bed.
Will: Okay, bad example.

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(At Olive Garden)

Friend: I don't mean to make a fuss but this cake is still partially frozen.
Waiter: Oh, I'm so sorry. I can take that back and put it in our de-thawer real quick.
(Blank stare)
Waiter: This happens with our desserts sometimes and we just de-thaw it. It's like a box...
Friend: Is it a microwave?
Waiter: Yeah, it's a microwave.

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Glitter and Rainbows,

Caity Shea

www.CaitySheaViolette.com