Paris in June
Well, today’s the big day, the day we’ve all been worried about, Paris Hilton starts her twenty one day jail sentence for driving drunk without a license while having her license suspended for driving drunk without a license. I’ve been up all night worrying about her. Since we lost Anna Nicole, it falls upon Paris to be our official worthless celebrity slut. Her every move must be documented and reported to keep us from stressful news like the increased US naval maneuvers in the gulf guarding the increased exports of Iraqi oil by Halliburton/Exxon. Lite and trite beats might and fight when it comes to news broadcasting.
Thinking about the punishment Paris has to endure got me to thinking, Shelter Island (my home island off the east coast) is always looking for ways to increase revenues. What if we ran a Sheltered Celebrity Shelter? Then important celebrities could do their “time” here and we wouldn’t even have to build a separate building for them, just assign them to live with a local family.
“You have to get up, Paris.”
“What? It’s only 7 a.m.!”
“Yea, but it’s summertime. We have to get to the IGA by 8:30 to get a good parking spot and get out while it’s still cool. The cool only lasts until 10 AM. We gotta shop, get home and unpack the groceries.”
“Why don’t we go tonight if you’re so worried about the heat?”
“IGA closes at 6 PM.”
“So we’ll go somewhere else.”
“Nowhere to go. It’s the only grocery store on the Island. Except for Fedi’s which is our version of 7/11, but it closes at 7 PM.”
“How can you live here?”
“After we bring in the groceries and unpack, we have to organize the garbage and recycle.”
“What do you mean, organize the garbage?”
“We have to separate the all the recyclables; glass, plastics, paper, from the non-recyclable garbage.”
“That’s so sick. Can’t the garbage men separate that stuff at the curb when they pick it up?”
“There’s no garbage pick up here.”
“What? How do you get rid of your garbage?”
“We take it all to the dump ourselves and put all the recycle in the appropriate bins. It’s very exciting. You meet everybody at the dump and get to talk to lots of people.”
“Ewww! That’s is whack! Tell me the truth, I’m in hell aren’t I?”
“And the non-recyclable garbage has to be bagged in special yellow Town Bag that we buy at the store.”
“Why does your garbage need to be in special bags?”
“The sale of the bags pays for the operation of the dump.”
“Can’t the bags pay for garbage men too?”
“No. Then we’d have to charge more and the bags are pricey enough as it is.”
“When my father sends my money, I’ll buy you a garbage truck. Wake me when the mail comes.”
“No mail delivery, Paris. We all pick up our mail at the Post Office. We can do that after the dumps. We’ll run into the same group at the Post Office as at the dumps because we all do things in a pattern and we all empty the garbage out of our cars before we pick up packages.”
“Great, I’m doing time in Green Acres. Well, after the shopping and the dumps and the Post Office, can we at least go shopping?”
“Sure! We have a few stores.”
“How few is few?”
“Umm, Cornucopia, Bliss’ and Jack’s Marina.”
“How many floors in Cornucopia?”
“One. One floor, one room.”
“Which is the shoe store?”
“Well, Bliss’ has Topsiders.”
“Topsiders? Are they Italian?”
“No, practical.”
“Did you say a marina?”
“Yes, Jack’s has marine supplies and toys, puzzles, and games.”
“Of course! When I think “toys”, I always think, “marina”.”
“I’m going to need to hit a good liquor store tonight and get some tequila after today.”
“Both liquor stores close by 7 PM. Who are you calling on your cell?”
“My lawyer. Shhhh. Hi, this is Paris. Get me off this island that time forgot! Get me in a real jail, puhleez!”
“Oh, Paris, don’t go. It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”
“Why would I want to get used to this? You people are insane!”
“No, but it helps.”
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