Talking to Myself

What would you imagine would be the most efficient way to convey several examples of aimless, unrelated, ironic observations for maximum impact?

Why not just interview myself?!

I think I will! Here we go:

Interviewer: “Kathryn. That is your real name, isn’t it?”

Kathryn: (Waves hand) “Whatever. Proceed.”

I: “How many times a week would you say you scoop up the poops by the front door?”

K: “Excuse me? Are you interviewing me about poop-patrol?”

I: “I believe your residential visitors may be interested in knowing what the odds are that they’ll leave with an extra treat on the bottoms of their shoes.”

K: “I’m taking the fifth. Next….”

I: “Duly noted. Visitors should consider themselves aptly warned. What is the strangest natural phenomenon you’ve ever witnessed?”

K: “Funny. I get asked that all the time. I once saw a pacing dragonfly. I watched it from the window of a restaurant where I was having lunch. It literally flew across the street, then back in front of the window…like, 30 times. Somehow, it sensed when to 'stand down' when a bus was coming, or it would’ve been bus-grill-road-kill.”

I: “Huh.”

K: “Yeah…I know. Pretty heavy stuff.”

I: “Mmmm…. What’s heavy is that you felt it noteworthy enough to share in this public forum.”

K: “Well, that’s just the kind of special person I am.”

I: “Uh huh. Moving on: Most unexpected sight on the side of the road.”

K: “A front loader with the bucket raised and a toilet sitting in it.”

I: “A what?”

K: “A front loader…geez…it’s a tractor…you know, one of those yellow things that picks up dirt? Geez…”

I: “I didn’t say anything…”

K: “Mind out of the gutter….I know what you were thinking. That’s what it’s called…I should know. I dated a guy whose family had a business next door to a man who had a cousin who sold tractors in Connecticut.”

I: “And the toilet?”

K: “I have no idea. I didn’t put it there. You asked, so I answered.”

I: (Sighs) “Most annoying, yet frequent life experience?”

K: “Oh, that’s easy. You know how you’re in…say, an elevator…or a waiting room….or hostage in the back seat of someone’s pick up…and they’ve got this God-awful LITE-muzak radio station playing? And you’re listening to “He’s So Shy” by the Pointer Sisters…and you’re thinking “God, I HATE this song…this is like, the stupidest song ever…” but then you realize to your horror that your foot’s tapping to the beat and in your head you’re singing “that’s when I knew…he wanted me too…but I had to do some breaking through…” And then you’re thinking “Oh, just kill me now…no no no no no….” and then “HE’S SO SHY! (SO GOOD LOOKIN’) HE’S SO SHY! (REALLY GOT ME GOIN’) AND I’LL LOVE HIM ‘TIL THE DAY I DIE! (OOOOH, YES I WILL)”

I: “GREAT. Now I’m going to have that song stuck in my head all night.”

K: “Huh. Well, I’m off to bed. G’nite."