Andy Goldenberg
MORTY, older man
MORTY, a crotchety older man, raises his hands, stopping a kid from complaining about his phone’s reception.
MORTY Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s with all the noise? This is a Target Superstore, not a city hall. We should be so lucky to shop at a place that has daily discounted prices on wrapping paper, office furniture, and bathroom essentials. Before you were even a twinkle in your mother’s eye, people had one good that they sold and whatever they charged, that’s what you paid. And nobody specialized in wearable video cameras and neon pink flip-flops. What are you so angry about? How can you be mad in a magical wonderland of knickknacks, figurines, and cleaning utensils on generous markdowns. Look at the lighting in here! It’s so friendly and fluorescent, calling out to you, like God on high, saying, “Step right up to the super savings. Get ’em while they’re hot. While Supplies Last.” We only have a limited time here on Earth, not to mention only one hour on the parking meter, and it’s just a waste of all those precious minutes to be upset. What’s that? They’re out of your phone? Oh, the new iPhone. The phone’s got a name. We should be so lucky to even have a phone. Our ancestors had to yell as loud as they could, and if nobody heard them, they didn’t do anything. You know, before schlepping all this way, you should have stayed at home and searched their inventory on the Internet. We should be so lucky to even have the World Wide Web and not have to step outside of our warm and cozy houses. Those who came before us had to round up all their earthly possessions into a wagon whenever they needed to come into town and it wasn’t a balmy seventy-six degrees outside. It was unforgiving winters where you lost members of your tribe just to make a toilet paper run. And it wasn’t super comfortable two-ply. And they sure as hell didn’t have any adorable T-shirts with cartoon unicorns on them. Nine ninety-nine? That’s a steal! Target? I just hit the bullseye! Are you kidding me? We have it lucky! [To employee.] Not you. [Reading his nametag.] Alex from Tarzana. You? You work for minimum wage, five times harder than my tottela. He’s a plastic surgeon, two years out of medical school, with a beautiful wife and a baby with the cutest little punim. You. You need a little more luck in your life. Speaking of which, is there a way to get a quick price check on this Doctor Dre compact disc? It was in the value bin, but it’s still got the original price tag.