Freudian Slips: Plastic People

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Location: Irony, New Jersey, United States

Life takes us many places. It's a box of chocolates and a Hansel and Gretal trail of candy wrappers. I have filmed as an actor in The Happening, Invincible, The Lovely Bones, The Bounty Hunter, The Greek American, Bazookas, Limitless, TV's Its Always Sunny in Philly, Outlaw, New York, The Warrior, The Nail, Game Change, Cold Case, & commercial work includes The Philadelphia Eagles, Septa, Coors, Turbo Tax & Carnival Cruises. Freudian Slips spotlights irony in short story format.

January 30, 2008

Plastic People

A childhood friend recently made an unannounced visit to my house. Since Greg and I last saw each other, a couple of years have stubbornly passed. Greg and I knew each other intimately as children by invariably grew apart in adulthood as best friends never intend.
Along the walk up our double driveway, Greg explained to his son the depth of our friendship in both quality and longevity. Greg knew almost everything about me. What he did not know is whether I was home or even still lived at this address. A different vehicle than what he last remembered occupied the driveway. Adding to the mystery, the parked convertible was an odd choice for parents of four active teenagers who often confused their parents for cabbies.
“Hmm….maybe Joe moved.” Greg spoke out loud. “I don’t see Joe’s car. The house looks different too.”
Greg took a moment to decide on whether to ring the doorbell. He scoured his memory banks for all that he knew about my personality. Then he schooled his son on my eccentricity.
“Joey and I have known each other since we were kids. There is one word you gotta know about him. Plastic. That’s right, plastic. If we look around here hard enough for clues, Joe leaves a trail of plastic wherever he goes. You just got to look. When we were kids, he sealed comic books in plastic bags for safekeeping. Baseball cards he tucked in plastic sleeves. Scrapbook pages he laminated. He would make an ant geranium out of a plastic Tic Tac container. Plastic I tell you. Everything he keeps sealed airtight in some type of plastic like he is building the ultimate time capsule. He is a neat freak like you would not believe.”
Greg’s son gave his dad a quizzical stare as if there were green plastic trash bags by the curb, the homestead had to be mine.
“There!” shouted Greg in amazement. “The license plate on the convertible is protected by a hard plastic case. It’s encased in clear plastic. Joe Tornatore lives here, I tell you.”
Greg triumphantly rang the doorbell but my wife invariably answered the door. I was out buying acrylic plastic for a plaque assembly. Plastic I tell you.

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3 Comments:

Blogger mommanator said...

As long as it isn't plastique I guess it's a go huh Joe!?

10:15 AM  
Anonymous et said...

I remember when.....Joe and his brother shared a bedroom...
Miniature Felix and Oscar....

One half of the room was neat as a pin...the other side was indescribable.

2:14 PM  
Blogger Joe Tornatore said...

mommanator,
yes.

et,
an odd couple to say the least.

6:57 PM  

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