At the time of this writing, I am a professional stand-up comedian, meaning not only do I write and perform comedy for money, but I do live at poverty level, which is a skill all it’s own. I also want to be a writer, not because I want to sneak further down the poverty ladder, but because, simply, I love to write.
If you are reading this, then I have been successful in that endeavor. If you are not reading this but you are still holding this book open to this page, then you are either illiterate, or, more likely, bored. If by the small chance you are illiterate and holding my book in your hand staring at this page, hello.
I’d like to say that the first real problem I encountered in writing this book was coming up with what to write about, but I have a solution: I will write/am writing the introduction to this book before I have written any other part of it. I’m hoping that by writing the introduction first, it will give me direction on what the book will be/is about. My logic goes this way: Introductions to books provide a good description of what a book is about, so if I can just get the introduction finished, it should push me off in the right direction when I go back and read it.
So….
As I said earlier, I am a stand-up comedian. I enjoy that very much. What I didn’t say earlier was this…
I like pork. I really do. I think it’s a great alternative to chicken, as the ads imply. (Please ignore this paragraph as I don’t/didn’t want to make it the focus of my book. It just is slipping/slipped out.)
I would also like to take this opportunity to thank all the people who helped/will help me write this astounding work yet to be completed. Thank you immensely in advance. If you are currently reading this, then thank you in the present.
On second thought, I take that back. I’m not sure anyone has helped/will need to help me write a book about myself. (Is this book about myself?) Yes, I think it is/will be, apparently! I think writing a book about myself is/will be beneficial in many ways. First of all, I have permission to research my subject. I’ll keep/did keep myself completely open and accessible in that regard. Also, I will have/did have complete control over how I will be/was portrayed, and I think the most rewarding way to portray myself to the reader will be/was honestly/honesty, which means I will have to tell you/did tell you about my superpowers and the time I used a hair net to catch goldfish returned to life out of the toilet.
I fear that people think I’m arrogant because I am writing/did write a book about myself. I fear it, but I also agree with it because I’m sure I am/was at least somewhat arrogant. But, I also think that if those people give this book a chance and read it, they will find that most of what I will/did say about myself is not at all flattering. Look at it this way, it’s hard to interpret wetting your pants in front of a live audience as arrogance, but maybe someone out there will.
Bottomline: I just want/wanted to write, and it seems/did seem beneficial for me to write about something I know. I know about myself. So, I will/did write about me, but you don’t have to read it. Really, I don’t care either way as long as you purchase it. I’m writing this more for me than I am for you anyway, especially if you are illiterate, as I am. Time to get writing.
Today I went to the grocery store but not to buy anything. I went to use the Coinstar machine and cash in on all my loose change. It takes a healthy cut of the loot--8.9 cents on every dollar to be exact, but I've learned to live with that. That's the price you pay playing games with a crime boss like Coinstar. It takes a cut, and I go on breathing. Everyone's happy. Maybe someday, someone will have the guts to take a stand against Coinstar's violent threats: "Coinstar will take 8.9 cents for every dollar. Would you like to proceed?" But, not me. Not now. I have to do my laundry.
I ended up with twenty-nine dollars, a car wash token, and a euro. I don't know where the euro came from because I've never been to Uruguay. (Relax people, I know that's a dumb joke. I chose to use it anyway. OK?)
I saw a pretty girl noticing me, and I was surprised at this because such things don't happen to me very often, as in I don't think this has ever happened to me before. I checked to see if I had wandered out in public in my bathrobe again because I remembered how that had caused people to look. I hadn't!!
As the slot machine-like sounds of Coinstar calculating my new shoe budget rang through the store, and more specifically, directly to her nearby, beloved discounted cereal tower, I thought to myself, "I think she's checking me out. I hope she's just not after me for my money." After some thought on this, I got the feeling that she didn't care about my money.
I wanted to talk to her, but despite what the tabloids say, I'm not good at that. So, I walked toward the registers to exchange my Coinstar receipt for real, live cash. She headed into produce, and we made eye contact for the third time.
After I left the comfort of the register, I decided to make a bold move and pretend to look at some bread. It was near the produce. I tried to look at bread convincingly, but it was difficult to do while carrying the large, oversized mug that I had used to haul my loose change into the store. It's hard to look natural carrying something in a grocery store that isn't a grocery. Fortunately, I got a cell phone call which helped me look more at ease as I walked toward the produce corner where she had been making an in-depth study of strawberries for some time.
I ended the phone conversation with something like, "I'll be there at six." Now I was in easy listening distance, and I wondered if I had sounded stupid. The phone conversation ended, and I saw that she was standing next to my favorite type of juice. It's pricey but delicious and good for you. Now, I was standing directly next to her trying to decide which juice to buy, even though I already knew it would be Green Goodness. She said, "I'm just trying to find some strawberries that aren't moldy." And I said the most brilliant set of words to ever be uttered by human lips in the history of conversation starting with the opposite sex--"Well, you have to have good strawberries." That's what I said. Then, when it was awkward and silent, I snatched a Green Goodness and moved toward the bananas.
"Well, that's that," I thought. It was over. I looked at a couple of other things since I was actually shopping now. I made my way to the registers again and got in line. Then, the most amazing thing happened. She got in line behind me! We smiled at each other, and she looked at the cover of People. I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came; awkwardness again as the cashier asked me how I was doing. I left the store. I left with some juice and bananas that I didn't particularly need, a large oversized mug with a euro and car wash token clinking around the bottom, and a hole in my heart. Looking back on those situations, the thoughts about what could've been said are inevitable. How about, "Well, it looks like you found some toothpaste that wasn't moldy. How'd the strawberries end up?" But in the moment, when the pressure is really on, with the rest of the grocery patrons in line watching and listening, all I came up with was a smile. At least we'll always have the produce section.