Last night something fell off my bed in the middle of the night. I have a big bed and the guest’s side is usually covered with books and water bottles and snacks. I must have knocked something off while I was sleeping and it woke me up. I was paralyzed with fear for a good fifteen minutes. I am totally paranoid about someone breaking in even though I have never been robbed or broken into in my life. I always think there might be someone hiding out in my apartment. I lock all my windows and doors and double check them before I leave. Logically I know there is no way anybody could get in without leaving behind some obvious physical evidence at the doorway or by the windows. Despite having all my windows and doors intact, I come home and double check under the bed, in the closet, wherever. I poke at everything with a broomstick. Even the tiniest little corner because I firmly believe that the robber coming to get me has the ability to contort himself into the size of a Cornish hen.
A Lilliputian perhaps.
I just wanted to use that word.
There was a midget convention in Brooklyn a few months ago. Everybody was talking about the midgets. “Have you seen the midgets? They are all staying at the Marriott”. People saw them drinking in the neighborhood bars, having brunch together, one of them even got a tattoo. It seemed like everybody wanted to see them. I didn’t. Midgets in quantity scare the crap out of me. You can say whatever you like about me I am not a midget hater. Two midgets are nice to see. Maybe they’re in love, best friends – whatever. They’ve got a lot in common. But when there are 4 or 5 midgets traveling together, it’s worrisome. This is a group of people who have most likely taken a lot of shit in their lifetime. I can only imagine a big topic of conversation would be discussing this angst and injustice, culminating in something along the lines of “Fuck the regular sized people”. I would be more intimidated by a group of midgets coming at me than some teenage punks. In fact I would be more than intimidated, I would be terrified.
I spent most of my time circumventing the Marriott area which was a great excuse to stay in bed, eluding the midgets.
It’s amazing how much time can be wasted trying to dodge people. I woke up today and made myself get up within 45 minutes. That’s my New Year’s resolution: Get out of bed within 45 minutes of waking up. I’m not sure if it’s worded perfectly but I know what is expected of me. One half hour after I woke up this morning, I was dressed, ahead of schedule, and ready to get coffee. I get to the door and I hear my neighbors across the hall talking. Looking through the peep hole I see their door is propped open and moving boxes are strewn about. I remember they are moving to Argentina. I don’t want to hear about it. Yes, I’m jealous. Do I wish I was moving to Argentina today? Yes. I’ll admit it. The last thing I feel like doing is hearing about someone else’s imminent adventure. Plus it’s one of those couples where the guy is super friendly and talkative and the girl stands there with a strained closed mouth smile and never says a word. Never. I hate that shit. It makes me want to direct everything I say at her and end every statement with “ do you have anything to say about that? No of course you don’t .Let me ask you this, do you have teeth?”. I honestly have no idea if the girl has teeth. I kinda hope she doesn’t because then I could understand the strained closed mouth smile bit. But if she does, I want to see.
I sat on my couch with my coat on. How could I get the coffee with steamed milk and not talk to anybody? There’s got to be a way. I wished I had a costume to put on. A monkey suit. I wonder if anybody ever thinks that way about me.
“ I would rather walk around my neighborhood in a monkey suit than talk to Kendra Cunningham right now”
Thanks for listening!
Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.