As their usual Sunday routine — Kristen and Gary spend their morning doing chores at home before heading to the grocery store to plan for the week. But when Gary gets a phone call from his friends, he bolts — leaving Kristen to fork up the $650 bill and find her own way home. Who is more important to Gary, and what can Kristen do to teach him a lesson?
For as long as I’ve been married to Gary, we have had a set Sunday routine. We wake up, have brunch and then hit the grocery store. It’s been this way for the past two years — it’s how the system runs smoothly.
Two plates of food on a table | Source: Unsplash
So, it’s a Sunday morning. I make us brunch while Gary sorts out the outside — mowing the lawn and so on.
“Are you ready?” Gary asked, as he came into the kitchen fresh from a shower.
“Yes,” I said. “Don’t forget to take the shopping bags.”
A lawn mower outside | Source: Unsplash
We get to the store, and my husband and I have a ball of a time. We walk the grocery store per aisle, making sure that we got everything we needed — and then some. We were both foodies, so cooking together was our love language.
Until Gary’s phone rang, and I saw a different side to my husband.
A shopping cart in a grocery store | Source: Unsplash
We were just about to start unloading our cart at the checkout when Gary’s phone erupted with a loud ring.
“Sorry, Kristen, but I’ve got to take this,” he muttered, stepping aside to answer. “You can start checking out, though.”
So I began to unload all of our groceries — the meat, the veggies, the fruit, not to mention the junk food and drinks that we had stocked up on, too.
Moments later, Gary returned, looking both agitated and excited.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
“Listen, I have to run,” he said, glancing at the groceries as the checkout guy went about scanning them.
“Where do you have to go?” I asked.
“The guys are waiting for me. We’re going to have some beers, barbecue, and watch the game together,” he said.
Gary put his hands in his pocket, and looked toward the exit.
A person holding beer with firewood in the background | Source: Pexels
I thought that he was waiting for us to finish at the grocery store, then drop me off at home before taking off to his friends.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
“What? Now?” I asked, puzzled. “But we’re about to check out!”
“I know, I know,” he said hurriedly, swinging the car keys. “But I can’t miss this, Kristen! It’s a big deal, you know that the guys and I barely hang out.”
A man holding car keys | Source: Unsplash
“How am I supposed to get all of this sorted out and get home? You’re getting a cab?” I protested, my eyes darting between Gary and the growing line behind us.
“What? No! I’m taking the car. But I’ll call you a cab!”
He hastily began to place items on the conveyor belt.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ve got to dash!”
And with that, he was gone.
A man walking away | Source: Pexels
“Do you need help with these?” the checkout guy asked. “We have people to help with these things.”
I nodded. I couldn’t believe that Gary had actually left me at a grocery store, just to go and drink with his friends.
“That will be $650, ma’am.”
A cashier at check out | Source: Unsplash
Of course, Gary had left without leaving any cash behind. It wasn’t that I relied on him for money — it’s just that we usually did this type of thing together. And $650 wasn’t what I had expected our grocery trip to come to.
I paid and wheeled the heavy cart outside. I stood looking at the parking lot, hoping that by some miracle, Gary would still be there.
That he would be waiting for me.
An upset woman looking down | Source: Unsplash
That he would have finally realized that he was wrong to leave me for an insignificant moment with his friends.
I deserved better.
After a few minutes, a cab drove by. The driver got out and helped me pack all of our groceries into the trunk, and we took off for my home.
A yellow cab | Source: Unsplash
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got with Gary.
What on earth could have possessed him to leave me alone? I felt hurt and disrespected. I hated everything about the way I felt. My husband had never made me feel this way before.
I got home and unloaded all of the groceries. I was in a foul mood by then. So, I made a cup of tea and took it to my bubble bath. I needed to relax before thinking about how to get back at Gary.
A cat among grocery bags | Source: Unsplash
As I was sitting in my bath, sniffing the calming scent of lavender, I decided that I would cook myself a fancy dinner with all the ingredients I had bought.
“Two can play at this game,” I thought, shuffling around the house in my socks and pajamas.
I put on some music and I began to cook — I prepared an elaborate feast, grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, couscous, and the works. All of our favorites.
A bubble bath with tea and a book | Source: Pexels
The kitchen smelled heavenly, and I was in the zone. While waiting for the oven, I set the table meticulously for one — my resolve hardening.
If there was one thing I knew about my husband — he would always check my social media, especially when he was away from me.
So, I took photos while I cooked, and posted them on my socials.
A woman cooking | Source: Pexels
My stories were always perfectly captured, and I usually shared my cooking online. Shortly after I posted every story, Gary would ‘like’ it — and every time he did that, I knew that my plan was working.
Sure enough, my husband would be with his friends — drinking and snacking and watching whatever game they said they were going to. But Gary wouldn’t eat there, not when he knew that I was cooking at home.
For good measure, I sent him a photo of my plate saying:
Dinner is fantastic tonight, wish you were here! xx
A person taking a photo of food | Source: Pexels
Later that night, Gary returned to a clean kitchen without leftovers. I was lounging comfortably with a glass of wine and a book — the evidence of my solo feast neatly packed away at the back of the fridge.
“Hey,” he began uncertainly, after he walked in and out of the pristine kitchen. “The house smells incredible. Did you save me some dinner?”
A glass of wine on a table | Source: Pexels
I shook my head, a slight smile playing on my lips.
“Actually, no,” I said. “But you missed a great meal. Everything was so fresh!”
Gary’s face fell as he glanced around to the dining table, as if hoping that there would be a plate of dinner for him.
“I didn’t have dinner,” he admitted.
“Oh? Why not?” I asked, crossing my legs.
A man sitting and covering his eyes | Source: Unsplash
“Because I saw your stories and I thought that there would be dinner for me, too,” he said.
I remained silent. My husband knew exactly what he had done wrong. I just needed him to admit it.
“Kristen,” he said. “I’m sorry I left you at the store like that. It was a last-minute thing with the guys and I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to be with them, I guess. And I knew that you could handle it.”
Gary walked to the fridge and returned with a beer. He opened his mouth to start talking again.
I raised a hand, stopping him mid-excuse.
A cold beer bottle | Source: Unsplash
“Gary, when you choose your friends over me, it’s more than just leaving me to handle the bills or whatever. It’s way more than that. You left me behind so that you could drink beer. You made me feel second to a barbecue. Today, I wanted you to experience coming home expecting a warm meal and finding nothing.”
“You did this on purpose?” he asked, shocked.
“It’s not just about food,” I continued. “It’s about the people you prioritize.”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels
“I never looked at it that way,” he said. “I’m really sorry.”
Our conversation that night was long and honest — Gary needed to be reminded of the fact that we were a team and that we did everything together regarding our home. But it turns out that I also needed to be reminded that we could have our lives, too.
“Get out sometimes,” he said. “Go out with your friends, and leave me to take over the house. You’re allowed to escape the routine, too.”
A group of friends having a picnic together | Source: Pexels
When we went to bed that evening, I felt bad. I had never denied my husband food before, but there was a lesson to be learnt here.
Gary needed to know that he couldn’t leave me stranded in a grocery store without a car. Or without offering to help. Beer and barbecue did not qualify as an emergency.
“You’re right,” he said as he brushed his teeth. “I need to get my priorities straight.”
I’m not sure if Gary learned his lesson, but I do think that making him buttered toast and tea for dinner was a step in the right direction.
Buttered toast with jam | Source: Unsplash
Matthew Perry has reportedly died. The “Friends” actor was 54
Actor Matthew Perry, famously known for the role of Chandler Bing in the iconic show Friends, was found dead Saturday in a hot tub at his Los Angeles home, law enforcement has reported.
Spokesperson of the LA Fire Department reported that first responders arrived at Perry’s home at about 4 p.m. regarding a “water emergency” of an unknown type, but did not name the actor. Sadly, upon arrival, they discovered Perry’s unresponsive body. According to them, there were no drugs of any type at the scene. At the time being, no foul play is suspected.
A representative of the actor hasn’t issued any comments regarding the tragic incident.
The investigation over Perry’s passing is still ongoing and the cause of death remains unknown. It will be determined by the Los Angeles County coroner’s office at a later date.
“We are devastated by the passing of our dear friend Matthew Perry,” Warner Bros. Television Group, which produced “Friends,” said in a statement to The Times. “Matthew was an incredibly gifted actor and an indelible part of the Warner Bros. Television Group family. The impact of his comedic genius was felt around the world, and his legacy will live on in the hearts of so many. This is a heartbreaking day, and we send our love to his family, his loved ones, and all of his devoted fans.”
“We are incredibly saddened by the too soon passing of Matthew Perry,” NBC, which aired the series for all 10 seasons, said in its own statement to The Times. “He brought so much joy to hundreds of millions of people around the world with his pitch perfect comedic timing and wry wit. His legacy will live on through countless generations.”
Saturday evening yellow-and-black LAPD crime scene tape blocked off the entrance to Blue Sail Drive, a tony street just off the Pacific Coast Highway at the crest of a hill with sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean.
Shortly after 7 p.m., as multiple helicopters whirred overhead, Perry’s mother, Suzanne, and her husband, broadcaster Keith Morrison, joined the journalists and LAPD officers on the scene. Morrison declined to comment. An LAPD officer at the scene said he had no information and that he did not know when any would be forthcoming.
Peter, a neighbor of Perry’s on Bluesail Drive who declined to give his last name Saturday evening, said he only spoke to the actor once, for five minutes, and that he was “very pleasant” and a “nice guy.”
“It’s shocking,” Peter said as he waited for the LAPD, who had barred journalists from passing the police tape, to approve him for entry. “He’s been redoing this house forever and he seemed fine. It’s very sad.”
Leo, another neighbor who declined to give his full name, said he was home when an ambulance arrived at Perry’s house Saturday afternoon. He declined to say whether paramedics tried to revive Perry or if a body was removed from the premises.
“I was shocked,” he said. “It was very disturbing and sad after all these years.”
Perry was one of his favorite actors, Leo said, and the funniest member of the “Friends” cast.
“I encountered him once and he was very, very friendly. More so than I thought,” Leo said. “It’s definitely a tragedy, especially at such a young age,” he added. “I was very heartbroken to see what happened.”
Perry, the son of actor John Bennett Perry and Suzanne Marie Langford, onetime press secretary of Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau, was born in 1969 and grew up between Montreal and Los Angeles after his parents separated when Perry was 1.
He got his start as a child actor, landing guest spots on “Charles in Charge” and “Beverly Hills 90210” and playing opposite River Phoenix in the film “A Night in the Life of Jimmy Reardon” in the 1980s and early 1990s.
But his big break came when he was cast in “Friends” — originally titled “Friends Like Us” — a sitcom about six single New Yorkers navigating adulthood that premiered on NBC in 1994.
The series soon became a juggernaut, the anchor of the network’s vaunted Thursday-night “Must-See TV” lineup, and turned Perry and his castmates Jennifer Aniston, Courteney Cox, Lisa Kudrow, Matt LeBlanc and David Schwimmer into mega-stars almost overnight. At its high-water mark — for a 1996 Super Bowl episode and the 2004 series finale — the series could notch more than 50 million live viewers; by its end, cast members were earning more than $1 million an episode.
As Chandler Bing, the handsome, wisecracking roommate of LeBlanc’s Joey Tribbiani and, later, love interest of Cox’s fastidious Monica Geller, Perry distinguished himself in a crackling ensemble cast. With his dry delivery he created a catchphrase with a mere turn of inflection, based on banter he’d shared with childhood friends: Could he be any more Chandler?
Soon, he was attached to major stars like Julia Roberts and appearing in prominent films such as 1997 rom-com “Fools Rush In,” opposite Salma Hayek, and 2000 ensemble mob comedy “The Whole Nine Yards” with Bruce Willis.
There was a dark side to the life of one of television’s most beloved funnymen, however. In his 2022 memoir, “Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing,” Perry recounted his lifelong struggle with addiction to alcohol and opioids. He wrote that he had his first drink at 14, but didn’t recognize the signs of alcoholism until 21. Since then, he estimated, he’d spent more than $7 million on efforts to get sober, including multiple stints in rehab. His substance abuse also led to a number of serious health issues, including a five-month hospitalization in 2018 following a colon rupture that left him, he wrote, with a 2% chance to live through the night.
And it was fueled, he acknowledged during a “Friends” reunion special in 2021, by the pressure to land the joke in front of a live studio audience night after night.
“Nobody wanted to be famous more than me,” Perry told The Times in April, discussing “Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing” at the Festival of Books. “I was convinced it was the answer. I was 25, it was the second year of ‘Friends,’ and eight months into it, I realized the American dream is not making me happy, not filling the holes in my life. I couldn’t get enough attention. … Fame does not do what you think it’s going to do. It was all a trick.”
Perry was remembered on Saturday by friends and collaborators such as Selma Blair, Paget Brewster, Morgan Fairchild and Mira Sorvino as a singular comic talent and kind soul.
Perry’s “Friends” co-star Maggie Wheeler, who played his on-again, off-again girlfriend Janice on the hit show, shared a sweet tribute on Instagram.
“What a loss. The world will miss you Mathew Perry,” she wrote. “The joy you brought to so many in your too short lifetime will live on. I feel so very blessed by every creative moment we shared.”
He was also memorialized by Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, Pierre’s son and one of Perry’s childhood friends.
“Matthew Perry’s passing is shocking and saddening,” Trudeau wrote on X. “I’ll never forget the schoolyard games we used to play, and I know people around the world are never going to forget the joy he brought them. Thanks for all the laughs, Matthew. You were loved — and you will be missed.”
Though Perry estimated he had relapsed “60 or 70 times” since first getting sober in 2001, he maintained a steady presence on American television, playing key parts in backstage dramedy “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” and therapy sitcom “Go On,” and making a steady stream of guest appearances on acclaimed shows such as “The West Wing” and “The Good Wife.”
Since his near-death experience in 2018, Perry had found solace in friends, frequent games of pickleball and, especially, writing. Though producing “Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing” had forced him to relive his darkest moments, it also connected him to “all the sufferers out there”: “I had a story to tell, a story that could really help people,” he wrote. “And helping others had become the answer for me.”
Indeed, for all his success as an actor and, more recently, as a bestselling memoirist, Perry told The Times in April that his work was not the center of what he hoped would be his legacy.
Pressed to name how he’d like to be remembered, he said: “As a guy who lived life, loved well, lived well and helped people. That running into me was a good thing, and not something bad.”
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