when your iq reaches 50, sell
ok, so here i am, posting from the yu library. what, you may ask, am i doing at the yu library? studying? clearly not. so now i will tell you the extremely entertaining story of my second radio show.
it started off well enough, i thought, despite my lack of a cohost. kovi (moe?) called in and was patently unfunny as an eskimo. we also heard from my publicist (my absent co-host) and my dad, not to mention weed, the station manager, who is so uncannily like my brother shua in looks and motion that i really feel as if i have been time-warped to the future and am talking to him. he is good company, nonetheless, and very forgiving of my many blunders, so i had a lot of fun for the first hour of my one hour show.
but then something interesting happened: the second act no-showed. we stretched and we stretched and then we figured it out. weed says to me: looks like you got another hour. i think of my english paper, awaiting me in my dorm room, and briefly consider my options.
"Bring it on," i say.
I invite our weather man, mikey, down to the station for a briefing on the sudden chill in the air and what to do about it, which turns out to unwise, because our weatherman is californian and is therefore as close to israeli in attitude as you can get. 'cold? ehhhhhhh...shiver. it produces body heat.'
so we are having fun. but then i make a mistake i do not plan on making in the future: some guy i didn't know who was listening ims me to see if he, too, can come in for the bonus hour. i figure, why not? it will be a party!
little do i know.
he seems ok at first, joking with the weatherman, dancing a little...ok, alright. then he starts getting into some sketchy double entendres. ok...i guess you can have a little fun on the air. then he asks me out. i know it could have been really funny, but you see, having never dealt with that kind of humor before, i couldn't think of a good comeback. luckily, the weatherman jumped in to save the day, but the situation continued to deteriorate, to the point where the manager came in and told us we had to keep it clean. this is the point at which i decided to leave and let the guy do the last ten minutes himself.
so, we had some time to kill before the shuttle. the weatherman takes me back to the enormous convenience store at yu, where i purchase honeycombs, cocoa puffs, and yes, dental floss, and also encounter the infamous jeremy gaisin, who unprompted offers to record me on his equipment whenever i feel like it and may even lend me his four track. how cool are my friends?
well i am just having a swell time, until it occurs to me, some five minutes before the shuttle leaves, that i really ought to get there. i reach for my phone to call my friend and discover that - yes- just like last week - I HAVE LEFT MY PHONE AT THE STATION.
i am brilliant, or i wouldn't be on the air.
the weather man - who knew he could run so fast? - instructs me to wait in the bus and starts tearing back to the station to get my phone, which is very nice of him, but i don't have time to thank him before he's gone. there is only room for one more on the shuttle, and the bus driver rolls his eyes at me as i beg him to wait for mikey to bring back my phone. someone else's phone rings very loudly, taunting me.
we wait for five minutes. no sign of mikey. 'let's go pick him up!' i plead. 'it's on the way!'
'ok,' says the bus driver, 'but if he's not there, i'm leaving you there. look. why don't you just call him and tell him you'll wait for the next shuttle?'
'i don't have my phone.'
'so use someone else's.'
'i don't know his number by heart.'
the whole bus cracks up.
'ouch,' says some french guy.
the driver agrees to take me to the stop. mikey is nowhere to be found. i wonder irritably why the guy whose phone won't stop ringing won't pick it up already, gather my grocery bags, and step onto the curb.
where, as the bus pulls away, i continue to hear the phone ringing.
because it's in my coat pocket.
i reach out one useless hand at the bus, already four blocks away at this point, seeing as how buses here generally travel maximum speed whenever they can, and turn helplessly back to yu.
'it's ok,' the weatherman says, trudging up behind me. 'it's not as stupid as it looks. you'll make the next one...just wait in the library.'
and so i am.
it started off well enough, i thought, despite my lack of a cohost. kovi (moe?) called in and was patently unfunny as an eskimo. we also heard from my publicist (my absent co-host) and my dad, not to mention weed, the station manager, who is so uncannily like my brother shua in looks and motion that i really feel as if i have been time-warped to the future and am talking to him. he is good company, nonetheless, and very forgiving of my many blunders, so i had a lot of fun for the first hour of my one hour show.
but then something interesting happened: the second act no-showed. we stretched and we stretched and then we figured it out. weed says to me: looks like you got another hour. i think of my english paper, awaiting me in my dorm room, and briefly consider my options.
"Bring it on," i say.
I invite our weather man, mikey, down to the station for a briefing on the sudden chill in the air and what to do about it, which turns out to unwise, because our weatherman is californian and is therefore as close to israeli in attitude as you can get. 'cold? ehhhhhhh...shiver. it produces body heat.'
so we are having fun. but then i make a mistake i do not plan on making in the future: some guy i didn't know who was listening ims me to see if he, too, can come in for the bonus hour. i figure, why not? it will be a party!
little do i know.
he seems ok at first, joking with the weatherman, dancing a little...ok, alright. then he starts getting into some sketchy double entendres. ok...i guess you can have a little fun on the air. then he asks me out. i know it could have been really funny, but you see, having never dealt with that kind of humor before, i couldn't think of a good comeback. luckily, the weatherman jumped in to save the day, but the situation continued to deteriorate, to the point where the manager came in and told us we had to keep it clean. this is the point at which i decided to leave and let the guy do the last ten minutes himself.
so, we had some time to kill before the shuttle. the weatherman takes me back to the enormous convenience store at yu, where i purchase honeycombs, cocoa puffs, and yes, dental floss, and also encounter the infamous jeremy gaisin, who unprompted offers to record me on his equipment whenever i feel like it and may even lend me his four track. how cool are my friends?
well i am just having a swell time, until it occurs to me, some five minutes before the shuttle leaves, that i really ought to get there. i reach for my phone to call my friend and discover that - yes- just like last week - I HAVE LEFT MY PHONE AT THE STATION.
i am brilliant, or i wouldn't be on the air.
the weather man - who knew he could run so fast? - instructs me to wait in the bus and starts tearing back to the station to get my phone, which is very nice of him, but i don't have time to thank him before he's gone. there is only room for one more on the shuttle, and the bus driver rolls his eyes at me as i beg him to wait for mikey to bring back my phone. someone else's phone rings very loudly, taunting me.
we wait for five minutes. no sign of mikey. 'let's go pick him up!' i plead. 'it's on the way!'
'ok,' says the bus driver, 'but if he's not there, i'm leaving you there. look. why don't you just call him and tell him you'll wait for the next shuttle?'
'i don't have my phone.'
'so use someone else's.'
'i don't know his number by heart.'
the whole bus cracks up.
'ouch,' says some french guy.
the driver agrees to take me to the stop. mikey is nowhere to be found. i wonder irritably why the guy whose phone won't stop ringing won't pick it up already, gather my grocery bags, and step onto the curb.
where, as the bus pulls away, i continue to hear the phone ringing.
because it's in my coat pocket.
i reach out one useless hand at the bus, already four blocks away at this point, seeing as how buses here generally travel maximum speed whenever they can, and turn helplessly back to yu.
'it's ok,' the weatherman says, trudging up behind me. 'it's not as stupid as it looks. you'll make the next one...just wait in the library.'
and so i am.
posted by fudge at 6:48 PM
10 Comments:
Why do you make us laugh at your misfortunes?
That is an awful story, but so well told, I nearly swallowed my tongue laughing.
That is hillarious.
A very similar thing happenned to Ralphie.
oh my G-d...that would happen to me in a heartbeat...thank G-d i don't have a car, L-rd knows how many ways I'd humiliate myself
You are a piece of work, you are.
The show was pretty good, btw, except for those morons who called in from Wisconsin.
Dagnabit!!! Now i have my own internet access from home and i forgot to tune in to your show, bleah..
And you want to inherit my Geo.
Is there a way to listen to them but not live?
And I have to agree with R2JB - save the tongue-swallowing. That's kind of weird.
I hereby dub you the Lemonade Lady--when it comes to taking lemons and making lemonade out of them, you're one of the best people I know. :)
Better luck on your next show. Hope I'll be home to listen to that one--I'm looking forward to it.
I'm with Respondingtoblogs--you're a wonderful storyteller. I can't wait to read your book!
On the off chance that you might be interested in oral storytelling, here's someone I recommend. I knew her years ago, and have had the privilege of seeing her perform. Here's her info, straight off the YU website: Peninnah Schram (peninnah1@aol.com)
Areas of Expertise: Storytelling, speech communication, oral interpretation of literature, history of theater
. . . *Associate professor of speech and drama.* Here's her website, too: http://www.womenweavingwords.com/ If you're interested, go for it!
actually i do know her...i heard her speak at the student leaders session, of which i am not technically a part, but being as i am a student leader groupie...
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