Things I Would Do if I was Waiting in Line for the Guillotine
By: Jaime Church
If, heaven forbid, I had lived in 1800’s France and had the misfortune of committing one act or another that earned me the guillotine, there are a few things I would probably need to attend to before the blade kisses my neck.
Give all my money, (Spoiler! It’s a HUGE amount,) to my brother.
Throw my shell collection back into the ocean.
Write a letter to retail management Gods and tell them that they redefine the words apathy, confusion, and discouragement, and that devotion to them is a capitalistic hell that I will rage against till the day I die. (Soon, bc remember, the guillotine is fast approaching.)
Actually find a 4-leaf clover in the wild and chose not to pick it because I am so in touch with my emotions that I can witness its beauty without stunting its growth. (#Woke asf. 6’2.)
Wink at my crush.
Meet Jeff Goldblum and kiss his cheek so both of us turn cartoon pink and he says “why Jaime! I’ve been wanting to meet you all my life” and I say “Oh Jeff! I’ve wanted to meet you!” And then we both laugh and go get lunch together.
Raise a pet turtle. Sew little shell coziest for the various holidays. Name it David Bowie and sing to it Life on Mars? Every evening.
Learn fluent French so by the time I reach the blade I can say something super slick to the brawny guy they’ve probably got running the show, and he’ll see that there is light left in my eyes that can’t be extinguished quite yet, so he’ll whisper “play along” and I’ll just be like ok??? My options here are pretty limited, so if your option is anything better than death, it’s already my best choice. And then he’ll say “Why, king sir, this is the wrong girl, the one you meant to kill is far prettier” And I’ll be like, what the hell? But remember, I’m playing along so I don’t die, so I’ll stand there and slump and look ugly and the king will say “Aha! You are right. Set her free and find the prettier one.” And I scamper away, ugly but alive.
Learn how to use chopsticks to the proficiency that I can eat rice at a restaurant without wanting to yank the guillotine blade down myself.
Learn how to waltz and then be really nonchalant about it.
Become a professional coxswain for a men's team and get really good so niche sports articles ask me questions like “Could it be true? Can coxswains really be 5’9?” And I’ll say, yeah, well, you know, it's about the bark of the dog, not the size of the dog. And they’ll be a little confused because that’s not how the saying goes, but I don’t have money for a PR manager because I already gave all my money to my brother.
Egg someone's car.
Swim from South La Jolla shores to the coves and back in the middle of the night right after watching JAWS.
When the next person at work tells me why I suck, or why the store sucks, or why I suck for working there, I’m going to grab the back of their head and kiss them on the lips so hard that they have no choice but to scream or stand in shock. Then, in a real David Sedaris style, whisper in their ear I’m going to have them killed.
Memorize the entirety of The Tell-Tale Heart. Get up during a fast and testimony meeting and deliver it with the cadence and authenticity that would genuinely leave people wondering if I just recited a very famous poem or just shared my relationship with the spirit in a very unique way.
Learn how to make homemade bread.
Read a biography on Amelia Earhart.
Learn how to get off that damn phone!
Read about the history of the Guillotine. I should be educated, even in my final act of submission.
Direct a rendition of Much Ado About Nothing. Cast all of my friends as the parts. Legitimately meet up on a regular basis to rehearse. Put up flyers to advertise. Sew all the costumes. Charge $5 dollars to see the production. Make millions. Invest. Make billions. Become the richest woman alive. Give all my money to charity. Go back to having the amount I currently have.
Learn the secret Victoria has been hiding all this time.
Make a tee-pee and sleep in it.
Oh! Looks like I’m at the front of the line.