Although Alan Gorsuch and his better half, Cheryl, do a fine job running Tacoma’s Sanford and Son Antiques, it’s the borderline trouble Alan stirs up in this community that makes him an interesting Trouble with DeRosa victim.  I think we’ve all seen the confident, shirtless, beer-wielding Alan at community events.  A few have witnessed the “free mammograms” he charitably offers by sporting a box over his head with two large breast-sized holes cut out in front.  And we’ve also all mentally documented Alan’s public display of dead Christmas trees.  Alan saved these inside his home, decorated them, and then sold the odd-themed, brown fire-hazards along Broadway’s Antique Row.

As I stood beside Alan at Meconi’s Pub & Eatery two weeks ago, during the D.K. Ross benefit, I witnessed a man walk up to Alan and ask, “So, are you the owner here?” 

Knowing that, in fact, Alan is NOT the owner of Meconi’s, I waited for his response. 

“Why yes, I am the owner here,” Alan began, and then went on dishonestly answering the stranger’s questions about specific décor inside the Tacoma pub. 

This lasted for a few minutes until Alan finally confessed to the man, “Nah, just kidding.  I don’t own this place at all.”

After exiting a nearby porta-potty, I stopped to have a simple, and somewhat regrettable, conversation with Mr. Gorsuch.  This is how it went:

STEPH DEROSA: What is your real last name, Alan?

ALAN GORSUCH: I wasn’t in town that weekend, and that baby looks nothing like me.

DEROSA: What do you think I’m trying to pin on you?

MR. DEROSA: Yeah, I’d watch what you say if I were you, Alan.

GORSUCH: Tell me about it.  I went through two sex changes because of her.

DEROSA: Oh, please. I’m not that bad!

GORSUCH: When it comes to a journalist, I expect nothing.

DEROSA: Whatever, Alan. This hand sanitizer from the Honey Bucket smells good.

GORSUCH: You were in the masturbation Honey Bucket, and that’s not hand sanitizer.

DEROSA: At least I didn’t walk out and embarrass myself somehow.

GORSUCH: Ah-ha! So you have “Pedi-publa-papyra-phobia” — The fear of walking out of a public restroom with toilet paper on your feet!

DEROSA: You just made that up, didn’t you?  Well, I know I have “Alan-a-Gorsuch-phobia.” That’s the fear of someone being more sarcastic than I am.

[Sanford and Son Antiques, 743 Broadway, Tacoma, 253.272.0334]