I would like to introduce a new phrase into the American lexicon. I inadvertently tested it a few months back when I told a story to my co-workers at The Screenwriting Center. They flew with it . . .
Back in 2000, I was living in New York. Well, not New York. Well, actually, New York came later. I would like to say at the time I was living in New York because it sounds much, MUCH cooler than Oradell, NJ. Yes, beautiful Oradell. Situated next to the Mall capital of New Jersey, Paramus. I was young, optimistic . . . and surrounded by various GAP locations. I was set for life! . . . Of course, my hosts were definitely ready to kill that attitude.
I moved to New Jersey because a guy I went to College with was going to move to Manhattan and he invited me to stay with his parents while we looked for a New York apartment together. Well, that was the beginning of one of the worst eras of my life. I have an abundance of stories of how this family made me feel unwelcome and guilty about my whole life. Stories that range form blaming me for a pipe bursting in their basement to telling me that I should give up on acting to kicking me out of the house because they wanted a guest room . . . I don’t mind saying this, The Delaney’s are AWFUL, DESPICABLE people.
One day I was doing laundry. I had quite a lot. Their washer and dryer was located in their unfinished basement. I had to go and down the stairs a lot that Sunday. Next to the basement entrance was a little reading room where Mr. Delaney read the paper. An old New Jersey home with old wooden basement stairs — it naturally makes creaks and noises. So, going down those stairs creates a few bangs and — oh, I don’t know, stepping sounds? Well, after a few trips up and down the stairs, Mr. Delaney stops me and says, “Easy on the stairs, Tim.” . . . . . . . . .
Easy on the stairs?
What the hell!? Is my 170 lb frame going to collapse your shitty house? I mean, I know that you blame me for your decades old plumbing bursting in the basement. I know that Mrs. Delaney got mad at me for horribly cutting my finger, causing me to go to hospital to get my thumb cauterized. I know I was annoying when I insisted for paying for my own long distance calls. I guess it’s inevitable that you’d think I would break your stairs. I mean, I looked skinny but in reality, I’m a very dense man. I look 170 but in reality, I weight about 700.
Fucking idiots.
So, if you ever run into to someone who is over zealous, or excited or a little hyper about something stupid, just tell them, “Easy on the stairs, man.”
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