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If i'm out to dinner with a group of friends, and somebody offers to pay for the check, i immediately reach for my wallet. inside is a note that says, "say thanks!"

-Mitch Hedberg

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If I'm Out To Dinner With A

Mitch Hedberg

If i'm out to dinner with a group of friends, and somebody offers to pay for the check, i immediately reach for my wallet. inside is a note that says, "say thanks!"

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More From Mitch Hedberg

In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. when the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the constitution and the declaration of independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every american was to fall heir. this note was a promise that all men - yes, black men as well as white men - would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness... america has given the negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked 'insufficient funds.'

How this feels is i'm just another task in god's daily planner: the renaissance pencilled in for right after the dark ages. the information age is scheduled immediately after the industrial revolution. then the post-modern era, then the four horsemen of the apocalypse. famine. check. pestilence. check. war. check. death. check. and between the big events, the earthquakes and tidal waves, god's got me squeezed in for a cameo appearance. then maybe in thirty years, or maybe next year, god's daily planner has me finished.

Thanksgiving dinner's sad and thankless. christmas dinner's dark and blue. when you stop and try to see it from the turkey's point of view. sunday dinner isn't sunny. easter feasts are just bad luck. when you see it from the viewpoint of a chicken or a duck. oh how i once loved tuna salad pork and lobsters, lamb chops too till i stopped and looked at dinner from the dinner's point of view.

So proper for a circus girl," mme. padva says with with a gleam in her eye. "we shall have to loosen those corset laces if we intend to keep you an intimate dinner company." "i expected the corset unlacing would take place after dinner," celia says mildly, earning a chorus of laughter. "we shall keep miss bowen as intimate company regardless of the state of her corset," chandresh says. "make a note of that," he adds, waving a hand at marco. "miss bowen's corset is duly noted, sir," marco replies, and the laghter bubbles over the table again.

For a second we just stand there in silence. then, suddenly, alex is back, easy and smiling again. “i left a note for you one time. in the governor’s fist, you know?” i left a note for you one time. it’s impossible, too crazy to think about, and i hear myself repeating, “you left a note for me?” “i’m pretty sure it said something stupid. just hi, and a smiley face, and my name. but then you stopped coming.” he shrugs. “it’s probably still there. the note, i mean. probably just a bit of paper pulp by now.

Safety lies in catering to the in-group. we are not all brave. all i would ask of writers who find it hard to question the universal validity of their personal opinions and affiliations is that they consider this: every group we belong to - by gender, sex, race, religion, age - is an in-group, surrounded by an immense out-group, living next door and all over the world, who will be alive as far into the future as humanity has a future. that out-group is called other people. it is for them that we write.

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