Literary Agent Orson: No Wings, Dammit

“Over here,” Phoebe waved to the rest of the group.

They gathered at the head of the crowded aisle in a Safeway grocery store downtown, San Francisco.

“Okay, everybody got the description?” Orson asked, “this is against my better judgment, but my niece is counting on me.”

All heads nodded.

“Ultra-thins,” Jeremy read his description, “I didn’t know Orson smokes,” he whispered to Craig.

“He doesn’t, dummy.”

“Okay, fan out.” Orson ordered. Everybody moved.

“Gosh, that was easy. I found ‘em,” Pierce announced, pointing.

“Lemme see,” Orson said. “Wrong color pack. She was very specific: NOT the light blue. It’s the sea-foam green pack.”

“Here they are,” Jeremy chimed.

“Right color, but,” Orson’s voice rose just a little, “read your list people,” he said becoming impatient. “We are looking for ultra-thins, Jeremy. Those are just thins.

“Oops,” Jeremy squeaked.

“Found ‘em,” Pierce triumphantly raised a pack above his head, and pumped his hand as he danced in a circle nearly slamming two or three people.

“Give.” Orson stretched out his hand. “Pierce, do you have A.D.D.? Read your list. These are Longs. We need Super Longs. Come on people, pay attention.”

Their heads dropped as they hunkered down reading packages more carefully.

Sasha hesitated with a pack in her hands. “Don’t even think it,” Orson said as he crossed to scan the other side of the aisle, “Read the pack. And you’re a woman?”

“I don’t have to take that from you. I’m a best-selling author.” Sasha said. A hush fell over the small group as they froze. Orson stared. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and dropped her eyes.

“You barely scanned 400, Sasha. Get real. People, we need to focus.” Orson grew frustrated.

Craig, who hadn’t said anything, was triple checking the package he held in his hand as customers swirled around him. “Bingo,” he ejected with a proud smile. He held out the pack. Orson walked over to him, took the pack and examined it.

“Craig, this pack says with wings. GODDAMMIT, I WANT ALWAYS MAXI PADS, IN THE SEA FOAM GREEN PACK, ULTRA-THIN, SUPER-LONG AND NO WINGS, NO WINGS GODDAMMIT, AND I WANT ‘EM NOW!” Orson screamed.

The milling crowds stopped and turned to him. Suddenly a loud cheer and thunderous applause broke out. Orson was mobbed by teary-eyed men with big hugs that lifted him off the ground and kisses. “It’s about time,” said one. "Yeah, me too!" shouted another. “You go, brother,” somebody breathed. “Thank you, God bless you” lisped another. "Don't ask, don't tell," a deep voice boomed. Suddenly a chant arose: “Our day has come, our day has come,” they cheered as they danced in a frenzy around a trapped and bewildered Orson. Strains of 'It's Rainin' Men' could also be heard sprinkled throughout.