Theft by Finding - David Sedaris

I liked the Star Market in Somerville and was surprised that Tiffany goes instead to the corner store in
her neighborhood, which is much more expensive. Even a coffeepot would save her money, but
instead she makes it by the cup. I always thought that Dad would be good at teaching low-income
people how to grocery shop. He’s smart with coupons and bulk-buying, but when you have no money
and are miserable, I guess you can’t get too worked up over a ten-pound bag of pinto beans. When I
was broke I shopped very carefully, but then again I was never clinically depressed. I keep reflecting
on my conversations with Tiffany, and it’s frustrating. The slightest hint of criticism sends her over the
edge, so I would wind up saying nothing. It’s probably for the best, as most people don’t really want
advice.
November 19, 2000
New York
After landing in Denver, I ran to the smoking lounge, where I saw a woman hotboxing a cigarette
while pushing a baby confined to a wheelchair. Bringing ordinary children into the smoking lounge is
enough to earn you glares, but a baby in a wheelchair could possibly lead to a lynching. Boy, that took
nerve.
December 14, 2000
Paris
Apparently I don’t have AIDS. The French bank received my blood test and approved my
mortgage, so, though I haven’t yet read it on a piece of paper, I’m guessing I’m negative. This is sort
of major, as, for the past fifteen years, I’ve just naturally assumed I was infected. Every time I sweat
at night, every time I get a sore or run a fever, I think that it’s finally kicked in. It wasn’t always at the
front of my mind, but it was always there. It sounds goofy, but it’s going to take a while for the news
to sink in. I’m not disappointed; I just need to figure out what to do between now and the time I
develop cancer.
Sophie and Philippe picked me up in a taxi and we went to a TV station in an ugly suburb. This was
for a cable program called Paris Première hosted by a handsome anchorman who stood at a desk and
read from slips of paper rather than a monitor. I’d been offered the option of speaking in English, but I
just went ahead and did it in French.
The segment lasted maybe five minutes and it passed quickly. I then had my makeup removed and
watched on the monitors as the host had a fit and yelled at the cameramen. There was something
wrong with the placement of an object, and when it happened a second time he got even uglier. It was
fun. My seven o’clock interview was canceled, so after the TV appearance Sophie and I went to the
office, where I signed thirty books and then walked home.