So this is a small script for something I'm sharing tonight at an artist exchange/potluck. Literally, you're not missing much by me reading it aloud, however-- if you want to full on experience for free [I know it's hard to see me perform for free these days. RARE TREAT.] you should come over to Kait and Kirsten's this eve.
Why is it that no one can pull off not sounding sleepy when being awoken by a phone call? Do you know what I mean? That thing where you're in a zombie-like half-sleep state that automatically answers that early morning call and you do one of these (demonstrate here). As if that deep inhale and quick whipping motion of the phone are supposed to mask the fact that you were absolutely not prepared to take this call at all. And then the person on the other line just starts jabbering away at you like you're paying attention. You miss about 40% of the first sentence because you're mind is busy saying to you "Why the hell did you just answer this phone you big dumb ape?" So while you're busy yelling at yourself in your mind, the other person catches on and always has to ask "Did I wake you up?" Without thinking, or once again consulting your zombiebody, you quickly retort with a deadpan "No." Well anyway, that was my morning. If it wasn't for my boss calling me at 7:25am to tell me she would be a few minutes late to work, I never would have showed. Thank God for my creepy subconscious phone answering capabilities.
As you can imagine, when I got into work this morning I was still highly intoxicated. My head was in a vice and every day tasks took me about 10 minutes extra time at least. Weird things kept happening and I felt like the universe was punishing me for my bad choices the night before. The by far WEIRDEST happenstance came when it was time for me to take out the trash. I will start this story off by saying that only reason I volunteered to do the trash run was so I could have an excuse to wear sunglasses (Yeah. I know how to play the hangover game). So everything was normal as I tottled along the alley yanking the heavy garbage can full of carrot shavings and straw wrappers behind me. Let me add that me and this particular alley have some history... Listen, you would volunteer to do trash runs all day if you worked in Lincoln Park with sucky yuppie customers too. Anything to get out of the store. So one time I was back there I woke up a homeless man from his slumber and it was super awkward. He followed me back to the store and stole an orange and 2 free samples on my watch. All my coworkers call him my boyfriend now. It's a thing we have. Moral of the story, I never really quite know what I might find in this alley. Today it happened to be my assassin. You heard right. As I neared the dumpster I took a quick glance down the other end of the alley (where my boyfriend lived) and standing there, about 50 feet away, was some seriously stoic Men in Black dude staring at me. It startled me so much that I struggled real hard to keep my composure while flinging soggy trash bags about. His crisp black suit and fixed stare were piercing me as if to say "Yes... I thought I might find you here, Carol Olsen" I was sure he was going to pull out a pistol and start questioning me like, "WHERE'S THE MONEY?" For a moment my life was a movie and I thought, "How am I going to tell Rick I can't get the 20 grand until Friday?" Maybe if I wasn't so hungover, and was feeling a bit more frisky at 10in the morning, I would have called out to him. "Hey.... Rick.... I don't know nothing bout Johnny ratting you out.... I swear" Ahhhh. Another day.
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