Theft by Finding - David Sedaris

1998
January 1, 1998
New York
I went to Helen’s to deliver the tangerines she’d asked for, and she answered her door looking like
an old Mafia capo, in big dark sunglasses. “I fell and broke the regular ones,” she told me. We hung
out for a while in her kitchen, and before I left she gave me a nutmeg-colored pantsuit she thought
Amy might wear. “All my friends have fat asses, so I don’t have nobody else it would fit. Tell her to
wash it in Woolite or, what the fuck, tell her she can wash it in any old shit.”
January 2, 1998
New York
A young woman called, saying, “Who is this?” I asked who she was calling for and she said,
“What number is this?” After I told her she said, “You don’t have to yell at me.” Then she said she’d
call back in a few minutes and hung up.
Several hours later a man called and asked if I was David Sedaris. “Me and a bunch of friends
bought you a present and want to come over and give it to you.”
I said it wasn’t a good time and suggested he call me back tomorrow. How dumb is that?
January 7, 1998
New York
I went to deliver Helen her chicken cutlets and she sang “I Got You, Babe” in honor of Sonny
Bono, who died two days ago in a skiing accident. “I like that Chastity,” she said. “And her father
was very understanding when she tolt him she was lesbian.” I stayed for an hour and she recounted
the various fights she’s had this week. “I’m not a troublemaker. I just stay out of it now.” Before I left,
she gave me another pantsuit to give to Amy, one with a studded top. It’s hard to imagine Helen in it,
but she swears she used to wear it to church. “The monsignor said, ‘Hey, hotshot, where’s your
horse?’ I tolt him it was in the garage. Ha! You laugh, but that’s what I tolt him.”
January 20, 1998
New York