Author’s Note: Sometimes strange ideas need to be given a chance. With this one I was pleasantly surprised. I was driving home and thinking of Seinfeld and how it was a show about nothing and then suddenly thought, wouldn’t it be a great and funny skit to have a store that doesn’t sell anything? Suddenly Weirdgorden was born and it was so fun writing the first episode, I plan to do more. Enjoy, and forgive my awful sense of humor. –Pixie B.
Episode One: New Store in Town
Generic storefront with Weirdgorden electric sign turned off. Woman walking past on the sidewalk, talking on her cell phone.
Amy: “It’s just terrible what this town is coming to. I can’t find any good deals and all the shops sell junk. No one knows fashion anymore, Marlee. Hold on a sec…”
Stares up at the sign just blinking on with a sizzle. In the window on the door, someone turns the sign from Closed to Open.
Amy: “Marlee! You just won’t believe it! It’s a new store right where that awful hair stylist’s used to be. No, not that one. The one who got hepatitis and moved to Guam. Or was a gym? Anyway, talk to you later, girl! I’ll tell you all about it later. Bye, bye, by-bye, ciao!”
Amy heads inside and the bell jingles. The place is arranged a bit like a coffee shop, with wooden tables and chairs and couches and stuffed chairs along the walls with shelves of random items. The counter is U-shaped. On the wall behind it is another sign with the store’s name and swinging doors that head to the back. Amy lingers at a single clothes rack situated up front. The clothes are all sparkly and outlandish. She holds up one item, then another, searching the sleeve of a shirt for a tag but finding nothing.
A clerk comes humming through the swinging doors with a load of clothes in her arms. She wears a pencil perched behind one ear. The clerk dumps the clothes on the counter and immediately begins sorting and folding the items before noticing Amy.
Charlotte: “Ah. There you are. Great day, huh?”
Amy: “Oh, yes, I just love trying new stores. These clothes are just amazing.”
Charlotte: “Aren’t they, though?” Goes back to folding.
Amy: “But…” She brings the shirt over to the counter. “There aren’t any price tags on anything.” The clerk doesn’t seem to hear her and she repeats herself louder.
Charlotte: “Okay, okay, no need to shout. Price tags. Why would there be price tags?”
Amy: “So people know if they want to buy the clothes?”
Charlotte: “Buy the clothes? What do you mean? From here?” The clerk looks dumbfounded.
Amy: “Of course from here. You’re a clothing store aren’t you? A boutique?”
Charlotte: “No. No bows or teeks, thank you very much.” Laughs and goes on folding.
Amy: “Are you saying you don’t sell clothes?”
Charlotte: “We don’t sell clothes.”
Amy sets the shirt on the counter and the clerk picks it up, takes it off the hanger and folds it with the other clothes on the counter. Amy gestures around the store.
Amy: “Well, what do you sell, then? Books?”
Charlotte: “Nope, no books.”
Amy: “Coffee? Of course, there’s no menu sign, but you do have tables and chairs.”
Charlotte: “We don’t sell coffee.”
Amy puts her hands on her hips. “What do you sell, then?”
Charlotte: “Nothing. Weirdgordens doesn’t sell a thing.”
Amy: “But you’re folding clothes. To sell!”
Charlotte: “Nope, not to sell. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Charlotte: “Larry!” Screaming to the back. “Larry, we got another one!” A large, balding man pokes his head between the doors.
Larry: “Really, Charlotte?”
Charlotte folds the last pair of jeans and stacks the whole pile on the side of the counter. “Really. I need a coffee break.” She slips past Larry as he enters the space behind the counter and heads to the back room. Larry folds his arms and stares at Amy.
Larry: “What’s the problem, lady?”
Amy: “Um, I’m just confused as to what you sell here. Charlotte said it wasn’t coffee, but you have coffee?” She waits for him to answer, but the silence drags on. Finally, he answers.
Larry: “So, you want to have coffee, is that it?”
Amy: “No! Well, I mean, yes, it is cold out, but I don’t understand what it is—“
Larry: (shouting): “Char! Bring the lady some coffee!” Charlotte calls something intelligible from the back room.
Amy: “No, really, sir…Larry, um, I don’t need any coffee. Really, I just want to know how much the clothes are.”
Larry: “Much? As in money?” He steps up to the cash register behind the counter and starts fiddling with it.
Amy: “Yes, exactly.”
Larry: “No, no. We don’t sell any clothes here. Char! Where are you with the coffee?”
Amy: “But I’m wondering what it is you do sell?”
Larry shrugs. “Sell? Why would we sell anything?”
Amy: “Because you’re a store?”
Charlotte marches out proudly with a tray of coffee mugs. She hands one to Larry, who takes a big gulp, telling her it’s the best ever.
Charlotte: “Here you are, dear. It’s cinnamon spice. Good on a cold day.”
Amy: “Oh, how lovely. But I really don’t need any coffee. I was actually wondering about the clothes.”
Charlotte: “Yes, yes, they’re made in China, like everything else.” She interrupts before Amy can get another question in. “Now, why don’t you go and sit on that couch over there and quite bothering us. Larry and I have a lot of work to do. Can’t you see?” Larry has gone back to fiddling with the cash register and appears to be entering numbers from a stack of slips. He takes the pencil from behind Charlotte’s ear and starts to write with it.
Amy: “But.” She stands and looks at them, then sips at her coffee, murmuring at how good it tastes. “Yes, I’ll just….sit on the couch.”
Charlotte (looking triumphant): “There you go, hon. Welcome to Weirdgorden.”