7-8 “Come Back to the Truck Stop, Natalie Green, Natalie Green”

I chose this episode to recap because when I sat down to start writing, I needed a big ol’ pile o’ goof. Good goof, not goof so goofy as to be terrible. Goofy hilarious. I scanned my episode list for just the right episode, and, as often happens, the right one jumped off the page at me. And as I wrote, as also often happens, I realized that this episode is so much more than I remembered. It’s not just clowning; it’s an examination of the creative process, specifically, how an artist discovers their creation rather than inventing it. It’s delightful and underrated.

The title of the episode references the movie “Come Back to the Five & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean,” but it’s often shortened to just “Truck Stop.” The episode where Natalie decides not to go to college is “Bus Stop.” Natalie spends a lot of time at Stops.

We are inside Bernie’s Truck Stop Cafe as “Stand by your Man” plays in the background in all its cover version, licensing avoidance glory. Natalie enters, looking fabulous in a full Canadian tuxedo, including coordinating backpack and shoes, carrying a bike with a detached and bent front wheel. She jokes that she brought it inside so that no one would take it for a joyride, and heads to the pay phone on the wall.

I was about to say that I miss pay phones, but what I really miss is life before smartphones. I think cell phones are, on balance, a good thing. I have actively fought people who say life was better before cell phones. But phones didn’t need to turn into tiny computers. My Nokia brick was perfect. It even had a flashlight.

Natalie agrees that technology is frustrating. Her initial relief at hearing Blair’s voice wanes when she realizes it’s recorded. Heh. This is 1985; answering machines were hardly ubiquitous. I don’t miss the game of “how many times should I let it ring before giving up.” I do miss the excitement of getting home to a blinking light signaling that someone wanted to talk to you.

Natalie explains to the machine that “Natalie Green on the road is a bust” and she’s coming home, and by the way, she had Blair’s bike modified. Blair won’t be happy about that. She doesn’t like it when her non-rich friends borrow her stuff and then break it. Just ask Jo, in a recap that will be linked here whenever I write it.

We are not privy to the details of “Natalie Green on the road,” but speaking of recaps I have yet to write, the episode immediately before this one is “Doo-Wah,” otherwise known as the El Debarge episode. So I’ve decided that after their little recording gig, instead of going straight back to Peekskill with the gang, Natalie went out for an adventure on her own. And here’s where I fill with pride about my little show’s character development and the awesomeness that is Natalie Green. Natalie has always been the one to bust out and do something unexpected and risky. She’s always the one in the center of political controversy and she’s been threatening to make waves in the real world since she graduated. She foregoes college for adventure at the end of season six, only staying in Peekskill in season seven because ~~the show was still a hit~~ the gang needed her insurance money to rebuild after the Edna’s Edibles fire. She moves to a squalid apartment in New York City at the end of season seven but moves back because ~~there was still some life to be squeezed out of the show~~ the living conditions were unbearable. At the end of season nine, ~~with the writing on the wall that it would be the last season~~ having concluded that Peekskill is just too small to accomplish what she wants and college isn’t really her jam, she returns to New York City and moves in with David Spade and Richard Grieco. I love you, Natalie.

Natalie sits at the counter and writes in her journal. Writers have journals, it’s true. And my historical lack of journaling has certainly not helped my mythical writing career. But I have been journaling the last year and a half or so because of my divorce pain, and whaddaya know, my writing is getting a lot better. My book might yet end up published.

Natalie’s journal entry, which she fake-writes while voicing over the content, reveals that she is on day nine of her adventure, and she had breakfast at the mission in Philly this morning. That’s another nice detail. Natalie would so be bumping around the social services communities. When she praises the soup, the laugh track engages, and I’m not sure what’s supposed to be funny. Soup for breakfast I guess, but I don’t think we really stick to the idea that certain foods are only for certain meals anymore. On a related note, do you know what the difference between a tofu scramble and a tofu stir-fry is? The time of day you eat it!

Natalie has terrible writers block, and I so relate. She tries to probe the server for exciting stories about the truck stop, but the server can only come up with the fact that the power went out in a storm last year and the meat went bad. If you didn’t have meat, it wouldn’t have gone bad, just sayin’.

Natalie’s voiceover encourages her to write anything, just a word, which she then decides is too ambitious and settles for a letter instead. I am only including this much detail about her writer’s block process because it is so goddamn relatable. Natalie reminds herself to write about what she knows, and continues agonizing.

Distracted by the truckers nearby complaining about the coffee and making demands of the server, Natalie expresses disbelief at their shitty attitude and the server’s acquiescence, and she muses that she’d like to see these dicks try that behavior with Jo.

And just like that, Natalie has a story.

“She was a gutsy brunette. Her name was Joanne. Joanne…”

“…Burger.”

I have a friend whose last name is Burger, and when he fathered children, I immediately began referring to the kids as the sliders. I thought the joke was obvious, but apparently it was hilarious to him and his wife. I really need to internalize the fact that I have great, original ideas a lot of the time.

And here’s where Natalie embodies the concept that creativity is not about making things up; it’s about discovering things. In order to get to know Joanne, Natalie has a conversation with her, where she learns that Joanne has been a waitress all her life, but she wants to be a beautician. She congratulates herself for creating a character, and comments that now she needs drama.

“She was regal, refined. It was something about the way she moved. Every gesture calculated. Every move, perfection. Who was this mystery woman, and what was she doing at Bernie’s?”

Natalie sidles to Blair’s as-yet-unnamed character but struggles to get to know her. She suggests that they play a game, specifically, twenty questions.

Blair’s character scoffs. “Games. I’ve played them all, and there are no winners.” Dramatic.

Natalie comments to Joanne that there’s not much traffic in this truck stop, and Joanne replies that it has slowed down since they closed the air strip.

The air strip gives Natalie a whole new source of inspiration! The sound of a plane overhead catches everyone’s attention.

I’m not sure about the choice of a ten-button Outback Red shirt for pilots’ gear, but what do I know about flying?

Tootie’s character is Trudy Hathaway, adventurer extraordinaire. The character based on Natalie herself. She doesn’t say that; I do.

Natalie sits down with Trudy to get to know her, and our three characters flesh out Trudy’s story. She was on a mission in South America delivering supplies to the pygmies.

Joanne: “The pygmies are in Africa.”

OK, then. She got caught in blizzard in Pago Pago.

Blair’s character: “Pago Pago is in the tropics.”

Natalie asks her characters – that is, her thoughts – to slow down so she can catch up. Natalie, my sister, I can tell you from personal experience that once your head is spinning with ideas, you have no chance.

Sure enough, Trudy continues that she was rescuing someone important, but who?

Joanne: “Pearl Bailey!”
Trudy: “No, someone more international!”
Blair’s character: “The Queen Mum?”
Trudy: “It wasn’t a head of state.”
Blair’s character (whom I wish Natalie would name already because I feel like a dick typing out “Blair’s character” over and over): “Julio Iglesias!”
Trudy: “Someone with more influence!”
Joanne: “Princess Diana!”
Trudy: “In a compromising situation!”
BC: “Princess Diana and Julio Iglesias!”

Don’t be silly. Diana was only having affairs with white people at this point.

Natalie is frustrated with the progress of her story.

“That’s believable. We’ve got a truck stop, a schizo pilot, the woman in red – all I need now is for Charo to walk through the front door.”

She’s dancing too quickly for me to get a good screen shot. Also, Charo is a legendary flamenco guitarist, and her reduction to Latin sex symbol is a shameful example of erasure of talented women.

The fabulous Charo gets a hilarious conga line going as Natalie unravels about losing control.

Natalie: “You can’t do this! You’re my characters! You have to do what I say!”
Charo: “Join the party!”
Natalie: “Don’t make me do something I don’t want to do!”

Charo’s Spanish argument translates to “I don’t think you realize what you’re doing!” But ultimately Natalie kicks Charo out of her story and Charo takes one of the truckers with her, handily leaving Natalie alone with her characters.

Joanne wants to know where Natalie got the gun. She found it on the floor, and speculates that someone must’ve brought it to shoot someone.

Natalie: “The question is, who is the killer, and who is the victim, and what is the motive?”
Trudy: “Well until you come up with one, there is no killer, because there is no motive, because there is no bullets.”

Natalie is not happy with this turn of events and desperately tries to compensate by declaring that someone could’ve taken the bullets out!

I agree. Weak. Blair’s character declares that she’s bored and Trudy suggests that they try hanging out in someone else’s imagination.

Natalie is clearly full of self-doubt, and the feeling that everything she writes is shit, that she’ll never come up with anything anyone wants to read, that she might as well just hang it all up right now. Natalie doesn’t say that; I do. About me. But I’m working on actively interrupting my negative thoughts.

Natalie, hurt by her characters’ betrayal, asks them to give her a minute. Joanne acquiesces to a minute and no more as we fade to commercial.

Back in the diner, Natalie crumples up a fourth piece of paper. Crumpling up paper and throwing it over your shoulder is much more satisfying than clicking “Don’t Save.”

The characters have lost their patience. Blair’s character declares that she intends to catch the bus that should be leaving about now. Trudy decides that her engine is cooled enough to move on, and Joanne wants everyone to bail so she can close. In a desperate attempt to hold onto them, Natalie declares that no one can go anywhere because the bridge is washed out.

Joanne: “That’s ridiculous. It’s not even raining outside.”

George Clooney as the bus driver announces that the bridge is, in fact, washed out. Blair’s character can’t take it anymore, and offers Trudy two hundred dollars to fly her out. Not happening, declares Natalie. Visibility is zero.

So, having regained control of her characters, Natalie continues. Blair’s character, now christened “the woman in red” (which requires one less keystroke than “Blair’s character,” so thanks, Natalie, I guess), has come to the truck stop to wait for something. But what?

Joanne, whom we’ve established doesn’t put up with nonsense, busts the woman in red trying to sneak the letter away. Natalie announces that the letter is addressed to Joanne Burger, who wasn’t expecting anything, but opens the letter to the surprise news that she has inherited one million dollars from the estate of Reginald Hunter. But she doesn’t know any Reginald Hunter.

The woman in red explains that Reginald Hunter is Sir Reginald Hunter, millionaire. She also lists “playboy” among his list of achievements, and I’ll be back after I wash off the grime that comes with the memory that such toxic masculinity was once considered something to be proud of.

The woman in red declares that it must be a case of mistaken identity, and Trudy confirms that no one would leave their fortune to a perfect stranger. The woman in red tries to take the letter and flee, when Joanne remembers a customer named Reggie, who came in one night after having car trouble. He asked her not to call him “Sir,” and she gave him a slice of pie and a cup of coffee. He also complained about his daughter, to whom he gave everything and who never rose above frivolity.

Completely unrelatedly, of course, the woman in red announces that she’s leaving, dropping her wallet on her way.

She is Reginald Hunter’s daughter, Blaine! Six keystrokes, thank heavens.

Blaine declares that Joanne doesn’t deserve her father’s money. She needs it to keep up her lifestyle and her revolving credit line at Bloomingdale’s. When she found out that her father hadn’t left her anything in his will, she bribed the executor to find out who did inherit his fortune, and she has come here to take what’s rightfully hers.

Trudy reminds Blaine that there are no bullets in the gun, and Blaine asks Natalie to do something for her.

Natalie: “You’re a nasty villain. You deserve it.”

Blaine accepts her disinheritance and so the story ends…

Ha! Don’t be silly. There’s still like ten minutes left in the episode!

Trudy: “You were so obsessed with someone being ahead of you in the will, you forgot to look behind you.

Trudy, it turns out, is third in line! The famous person she rescued in South America or Pago Pago or wherever? It was Sir Reginald Hunter! And it was Poughkeepsie. Which I spelled right without even looking it up. Yay me.

Trudy: “You squandered his money, and you gave him a slice of pie! I saved his life! I deserve that million dollars!”

Blaine, true to character, immediately starts to try to deal. She suggests that Trudy kill Joanne and split the fortune with her. Trudy considers this idea, when…

Joanne: “I’m not the waitress! I’m a cop!”
Trudy: “If you’re a cop, then who’s the waitress?”

Y’all, I am not kidding that I am crying right now because this is so much fun.

Natalie: “I’m as surprised as you are.”

Jo’s cop announces that she was retained by the Hunter estate to protect the real Joanne Burger.

The real Joanne Burger Mrs. Garretts to them that she hopes they’ve learned a lesson about greed. She doesn’t care about the money; she’s just trying to decide which charity to give it to.

But wait!

The cop, frustrated with her low salary, intends to commit the perfect crime and run off with the money.

Natalie: “Except Reggie forgot to sign the check!”

I agree, that’s weak, even if it were true that the way a will works is that the deceased leaves a bunch of checks behind.

The real Joanne Burger tears up the check and offers them coffee. They critique Natalie’s work – Tootie gives it a hearty thumbs up while Jo says everything was great except the ending. They congratulate each other on their performances as they exit the truck stop/Natalie’s brain.

Natalie: “And they, who had met by chance, went elsewhere to seek their fortunes. The end…Oh, wait a minute.”