Nine Modest Proposals for the Weekend

Rain outside. Grey all the way to the horizon, the parking lot of some nameless office block slick and empty, a chai tea going cold in my hand. The forecast promised thirty degrees by Monday. The forecast is lying, as forecasts do. While I wait for the weather to make up its mind, here’s what I think the weekend demands of a person.

One: go on a blind date with a feeder at McDonald’s and order only the small salad and a still water. Hold eye contact the entire time. Two: put a condom on your cucumbers—the vegetable—because there’s a killer virus making the rounds and a man has to take precautions somewhere. Three: watch Avril Lavigne’s Smile video and, in the privacy of your own head, admit she isn’t so bad after all. Four: be a little more like Han Solo. This is general life advice, not weekend-specific.

Five: convince your siblings to revive the doctor game. Try not to get anyone pregnant—that particular family dinner writes itself badly, and your parents won’t find the headline funny. Six: throw away that job application you wrote in a moment of optimistic fever; the reality is never the brochure. Seven: buy a trampoline, drag it onto the balcony, and really go for it. Eight: make the dentist appointment. You know which teeth. Nine: help the Greeks stage a fake earthquake, then hit the streets collecting disaster relief with them. The moral flexibility required is its own kind of weekend achievement.