That’s what ‘The Huz’ (code for husband) calls it. When someone paints himself or herself in gold, silver or stone and stands still like a statue in wait to surprise or even scare a passerby.

“I think I’ll do that in Peck’s parking lot,” I tell him. He nods approval.

“Something pedestrian. Like carrying a bag of groceries with a disgruntled and very hurried look on my face.”

He nods again, and says, “People will put a dollar in the bucket and you’ll whack them over the head with a golden cucumber.” I agree. And then remember Goldfinger, the 1964 James Bond movie, in which Jill Masterson, played by Shirley Eaton, is found dead after being painted gold from head to toe. Bond is told she died of “skin asphyxiation,” a wonderfully creepy bit of movie science that made an entire generation think twice about metallic body paint. Eaton didn’t actually die.

And, like her, living statues today use theatrical body paint made specifically for skin, including water-based metallic paints in gold, silver, bronze and copper. They can be brushed or sponged on and washed off with soap and water. Some are formulated to be non-toxic and gentle on skin.

So maybe I could pull this off.

The only question is whether Peck’s parking lot is ready for a disgruntled golden woman with a grocery bag and a cucumber. There are other types of poses I could, or could not, do, such as an on-point ballerina, an angel with big wings, or one of those elegant Greek goddesses who looks as if she has just stepped down from a marble pedestal.

I think I’ll stick with grocery lady.

The beauty of it is that I already know how to look disgruntled and hurried. I have been perfecting that expression for years. The grocery bag would be easy, too. I could fill it with things I actually need: milk, bananas, toilet paper, something I forgot until I got to the parking lot. The golden cucumber would be the only prop requiring special consideration.

Then comes the hard part: standing still.

I am not particularly good at standing still. I can sit still, although I generally have to be doing something while I’m sitting. I can lie down and stare at the ceiling. I can meditate, although “meditate” is a generous word for what happens when I sit quietly and immediately begin thinking about something I forgot to do.

But standing absolutely still while strangers stare at you is another matter.

Living statues have it down to an art. They can stand frozen for what seems like an eternity, then suddenly move when someone drops a coin into their bucket. A twitch of the head. A slow turn. A tiny gesture. Sometimes a dramatic bow. The trick is making the movement unexpected enough to make the person laugh, jump or, ideally, reach for another dollar.

I imagine I would be terrible at it.

I would get an itch.

A mosquito would land on my nose.

My grocery bag would start sliding down my arm.

Someone would walk by and say, “Hi Ramona,” as if nothing were wrong. And there goes the illusion. Still, I like the idea. There is something wonderfully absurd about being paid to do absolutely nothing.

In a world where everybody seems to be rushing somewhere, answering something, producing something, posting something, fixing something or checking something, the living statue has made a career out of refusing to participate. Maybe that is the real art of nothing. Not doing nothing because you have nothing to do, but doing nothing so completely that everyone else notices.

So, if you happen to be in Peck’s parking lot and see what appears to be a very annoyed golden woman carrying groceries, don’t be alarmed. She’s probably just working. And if there’s a bucket at her feet, you might want to put a dollar in it. Just watch out for the cucumber.