Part 1: opportunity comes knocking
It’s 3:00 AM, and I’m finally in my tent. I had to make my way back on foot through the ice and snow with nothing but a diaper on my bottom. It all started when dad told me I needed to get a job or I’d have to find another place to live. I tried to reason with him. I’m 76 years old! He was unmoved. To make sure I followed through, he drove me downtown, dropped me off yesterday at noon and told me not to come back without a job. I went looking all around town but everyone was closed. It was New Year’s Eve. Dad didn’t care. I still had to find a job.
By 4:30 PM, I was discouraged. It looked like I’d have to find a place at the homeless shelter. I was on my way down there, when I passed the Simpleton Museum of Art, Culture and History. I noticed a sign that said “Baby Actor Wanted”! Dad says I’m a big baby, so I thought why not? I went in and auditioned for the part. It wasn’t too hard. I introduced myself with goo-goo noises and whining, but they told me that was unnecessary. I threw a temper tantrum, and they told me to get off the floor, I was hired. I heard them whispering to one another.
“This one may be our last hope,” said one of the managers, “We’re desperate. Someone has to do it. Hire him before he gets away.”
They gave me a cloth, a banner and a top hat, and told me it was my costume. The cloth was supposed to be a diaper. I asked for diaper pins.
“Oh yes,” they said, “We couldn’t very well do without that, could we? And thank you, Mr. Plate, for taking this job on such short notice.”
“Glad to help,” I said.
“The party runs from 9:00 PM until just after midnight,” said the manager, “Please show up at 11:30 PM in costume, have a seat over there, in that high chair, next to the punch and cookies. Suck your thumb while the guests filter in from the Conference Room. After Father Time leaves, get up and flounce around like a toddler. Make goo-goo noises like you did when you auditioned for us. Just be careful not to bump into anything. Everything in here is old, fragile and precious.”
After they left, I sneaked into one of the exhibit rooms in back and found an old-time bed. A manikin was in my way, so I moved it over, snuggled up with it and fell asleep.
At 11:00 PM, I woke up in a state of panic. In my haste, I forgot to make the bed, but the manikin kept smiling at me while I donned my costume. The diaper was so tight it cut off the blood flow below my waste. Painfully, I made my way to the high chair in the Great Room, next to the punch and cookies.
This concludes Part 1 of “A New Year and a Clean Slate.” Click here if you want to find out what happened next.
It’s 3:00 AM, and I’m finally in my tent. I had to make my way back on foot through the ice and snow with nothing but a diaper on my bottom. It all started when dad told me I needed to get a job or I’d have to find another place to live. I tried to reason with him. I’m 76 years old! He was unmoved. To make sure I followed through, he drove me downtown, dropped me off yesterday at noon and told me not to come back without a job. I went looking all around town but everyone was closed. It was New Year’s Eve. Dad didn’t care. I still had to find a job.
By 4:30 PM, I was discouraged. It looked like I’d have to find a place at the homeless shelter. I was on my way down there, when I passed the Simpleton Museum of Art, Culture and History. I noticed a sign that said “Baby Actor Wanted”! Dad says I’m a big baby, so I thought why not? I went in and auditioned for the part. It wasn’t too hard. I introduced myself with goo-goo noises and whining, but they told me that was unnecessary. I threw a temper tantrum, and they told me to get off the floor, I was hired. I heard them whispering to one another.
“This one may be our last hope,” said one of the managers, “We’re desperate. Someone has to do it. Hire him before he gets away.”
They gave me a cloth, a banner and a top hat, and told me it was my costume. The cloth was supposed to be a diaper. I asked for diaper pins.
“Oh yes,” they said, “We couldn’t very well do without that, could we? And thank you, Mr. Plate, for taking this job on such short notice.”
“Glad to help,” I said.
“The party runs from 9:00 PM until just after midnight,” said the manager, “Please show up at 11:30 PM in costume, have a seat over there, in that high chair, next to the punch and cookies. Suck your thumb while the guests filter in from the Conference Room. After Father Time leaves, get up and flounce around like a toddler. Make goo-goo noises like you did when you auditioned for us. Just be careful not to bump into anything. Everything in here is old, fragile and precious.”
After they left, I sneaked into one of the exhibit rooms in back and found an old-time bed. A manikin was in my way, so I moved it over, snuggled up with it and fell asleep.
At 11:00 PM, I woke up in a state of panic. In my haste, I forgot to make the bed, but the manikin kept smiling at me while I donned my costume. The diaper was so tight it cut off the blood flow below my waste. Painfully, I made my way to the high chair in the Great Room, next to the punch and cookies.
This concludes Part 1 of “A New Year and a Clean Slate.” Click here if you want to find out what happened next.
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