An Interview With Me, Myself, And I

5cf15ebda54c470e2d5631b0158cd12fAhh to be a celebrity … excuse me while I put my hand to my chin and daydream whilst staring out my window wide-eyed in Never Never Land. Something you should know about me … I have a secret obsession with celebrity culture. For example I was walking out of Starbucks this morning on my way to work and saw this black SUV with blacked out windows and immediately assumed Justin Timberlake was inside … clearly. I had my fingers crossed that he would roll down the window as I strolled by, ask me my name, and then casually ask for my hand in marriage after he divorced Biel … but :::sigh::: that never did happened.

But it is fun to imagine yourself as a celebrity … someone who sits in blacked our SUVs and gets swarms of people wanting to interview them. And after reading an inspiring article from Man Repeller, I got to thinking about how another writer would portray a play-by-play with me if I happened to be worthy of an interview with Vogue Magazine … :::swoon::: could you even imagine?!

And after a little thinking and getting in touch with my awkward tendencies, here is how I believe my interview would go, coming from another writer’s perspective:

“Kate strutted into Starbucks with full-blown Bitchy Resting Face, phone in hand, bundled in all black like she was heading from a funeral in the North Pole, and an awkward piece of hair sticking straight out between where her ear and sunglasses arm met. It was clearly bothering her as I watched her fail numerous times as she tried to tuck it away. She barely made it to the table before slipping on the slick marble flooring, but casually caught herself and played it off like a model who just bit it on the catwalk and had to keep going. The shame was hidden by the sunglasses … but the embarrassment was exposed by her bright red cheeks.

The RBF washed away from Kate’s face the minute she removed her sunglasses, smiled, and attempted to shake my hand, but realized she was now holding her cell phone AND sunglasses, so instead went for a strange side, half fist bump with the opposite hand and laughed off the awkward encounter.

After she sat down and got comfortable, she placed her iPhone next to her tea glass, and compulsively kept checking it like she was waiting for a phone call, text or email, but in reality just seemed like a twitch because, alas, no one was calling, texting or emailing her. Every 10 minutes or so she was uncross her long legs and would hit her knee on the table, causing her pain that she tried to hide, even though I heard a soft “son of a bitch,” escape her sigh almost every time. In between questions she would take a sip of her black tea, which I assumed matched her outfit and soul, and a little would slip through her lips and onto her sheer top, which she tried not to cause attention to by crossing her arms in an attempt to wipe it away.”

I’m a classically awkward celeb, aren’t I? Anyways it is fun to dig deep into your true self and express how you would handle a big time interview. Of course all of us would love to stroll in, on time, dipped in Chanel with every perfect answer ready to jump off our red lips that wouldn’t lose their color whilst we sipped our tea, am I right? But the cookie doesn’t crumble like that. The cookie, indeed, leaves crumbs on my H&M blouse.

Now it’s your turn, how would you handle being interviewed?

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