Tara: “Hello. My name is Tara and I’m a serial commuter.”
Dr. Lautner*: “Welcome to the group, Tara.”
Tara: “It’s been 15 hours since my last commute.”
Dr. Lautner: “No, no – it’s ok. This is group therapy, not confession.”
Tara: “Oh. Right.”
Dr. Lautner: “So, Tara, why don’t you start by telling us what it’s like to be a serial commuter?”
Tara: “It means I’m stuck in the rat race, the daily grind - working for the Man. A cog in a giant machine, and sometimes, I get angry about it, you know? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be an angry cog? Let me tell you – the giant machine doesn’t care. Your bills don’t care. The flamboyant Level 3 Master Colorist at the hair salon cares, but ‘Honey, those roots!’, so you charge it to your AMEX because your gray hair doesn’t care, it just keep on growing.”
Dr. Lautner: “Good start! Anyone want to - ”
Tara: “…so, you keep your head down and you go to work. You do what you have to do. And it’s work, work, work just like it’s Marcia, Marcia, Marcia and pretty soon you know exactly how Jan felt because before you know it, you want to strangle Marcia with your bare hands, and this time of year makes it worse because it’s dark when you go in and pitch black when you come home and you start going crazy – not Jack Nicholson in The Shining kind of crazy but a hell of a lot crazier than Tony Shalhoub on Monk.”
Dr. Lautner: “Let me stop you right there - you watch Monk too, huh? Love that show!”
Tara: “...and at the end of the day, you open your front door and you’re greeted by one kid wearing underwear around his head and another who smears boogers on your coat giggling like a hyena, and you think to yourself – ‘Wow, if I had a cocktail in my hand right now this might be fun’ but you don’t. You have boogers on your coat so it’s not that much fun for you and after dinner, laundry, baths, bedtime stories and one last check for monsters under the bed, you’re finally ready for some YOU time except that you’re too exhausted to even pour yourself a glass of wine. It’s not right, you know? It’s just not right.”
[Silence.] [Someone coughs.]
Tara: “And then I had an epiphany! Angels sang, clouds parted – the whole thing. I woke up one day and realized that instead of cursing the Man, I should be hugging the Man – or, at the very least, giving him a nice slap on the butt. Without him, I’d have no tales to tell. I realized that I'm proud to be a serial commuter! And I’ve been working real hard on the homicidal tendencies – my psychiatrist says I’m making real progress. No more listening to Vivaldi and sipping whiskey while watching Hoarders. I know that now. Anyway, to all the other serial commuters stuck in the daily rat race, the strung out parents with boogers on their coats and anyone else out there who needs a good laugh – I humbly offer Tales of a Serial Commuter - a writing endeavor which takes comedy very, very seriously. A place where I can share the hilarious things I either have a knack for observing or inadvertently causing – on the train, at the gym, in the office and in everyday life…this is my…destiny.”
Dr. Lautner: “That’s great, Tara – hopefully there won’t be any more hospitalizations! But I thought this was supposed to be a season finale.”
Tara: “Oh. Right.”
[Tara suddenly grabs her throat, coughing and choking, and falls to the floor. Motionless.]
Dr. Lautner: “Oh no! Is she dead? Someone call 911!”
[Silence]
[…and then…from the floor…a hand reaches to the sky…]
Tara: “I’m….A-L-I-V-E!”
Dr. Lautner: “I’ve gotta tell you - the season finale of Monk was much better. Or even Dallas. I mean, J.R. in the shower?! Top that! Alright, let’s move on. Dougie, you’re up next. Tell us about your friend sitting next to you. Do they know they’re invisible?”
________________________
* Names have been changed or made up. (Except for Tara's)
Tales of a Serial Commuter will resume with an all new season - Season 2 - premiering on Tuesday, January 3, 2012.
