“THE DEERINATOR”Hmmm. <sniff> I’m pretty sure that’s Frappucino.
by Cameryn Moore
[Publisher's note: Today we are launching a new column by actor/writer Cameryn Moore, a star of the North American Fringe circuit. Enjoy!]
Some people spring-clean their homes. I spring-clean my car.
It’s a ritual now: take the car to the self-service car wash, give it a nice wash and dry, and then excavate down to the tattered original carpeting. Together with Cid (my good friend and occasional roadie), we pull out two bags worth of detritus from the previous year’s tour. Prop bags, kitchen bags, laundry bags. A mountain of Canadian pennies plus the occasional loonie (ooh!), a half-full box of blank Phone Whore postcards, two broken umbrellas—better salvage that red fringe—countless plastic wrappers from around bottles of Starbucks frappucinos and a bottle of cough syrup and old programs and a baseball hat from the Calgary Fringe and tampons that fell out of their box so long ago that the paper wrapping is shredded and they’re starting to soak up whatever spilled on the floor back there. Hmmm. <sniff> I’m pretty sure that’s Frappucino.