Theft by Finding - David Sedaris

“Oh, definitely,” the woman said. “Especially now.”
November 1, 2001
Dearborn, Michigan
I had the night off so went to the multiplex across the road from the hotel to see Joy Ride. The only
people in the theater were me and an obese woman dressed like a witch. I’d seen her earlier in the
lobby, noticed the tall black hat, and thought, That person is going to sit in front of me. And so she
did, directly in front of me, though there were hundreds of empty seats for her to choose from.
“Fucking…witch,” I whispered.
November 2, 2001
Dearborn
I talked to Amy yesterday. She’d just gotten off the phone with Tiffany, who’s having a fight with
her boyfriend. He can’t stand it when she pees in front of him so a few days ago, after sitting on the
john and groaning, she dropped a bar of soap into the toilet. He thought she was defecating and what
was supposed to be a joke soon escalated into a fight. Tiffany argues that because he never takes her
out to dinner, this is the sort of girlfriend he deserves. It’s part of her new identity as a poor person,
and it illustrates how she’s making things up as she goes along. Tiffany’s poverty is noble, but I guess
this nobility doesn’t extend to her boyfriend. Somewhere along the line she’s decided that money has
a direct correlation to manners, meaning that a minimum-wage girlfriend shits in view of her company
while a salaried woman can afford to close the door. As a poor person, she’s decided to identify with
Osama bin Laden, whom she sees as a Middle Eastern Robin Hood.
She and Paul had a huge fight when he wore a turban and a fake beard to visit a neighbor. She told
him he was being disrespectful and he called her a whore.
November 20, 2001
New York
At Provence on Prince Street, our waiter led us to the kitchen, where we saw the restaurant’s
prizewinning entry in the recent New York Restaurant Show. The theme was Tragedy, so the chef
constructed a replica of the remnants of the World Trade Center surrounded by a trio of firemen.
Made from animal fat and sugar, the sculpture literally embodied the term bad taste. “It was nicer last
week,” the waiter reflected. “A few days ago it started to melt, and some of the walls have fallen in.”
November 22, 2001
New York