“Can you make a small donation? Your support really counts.” I called NPR’s 800 number, fishing for some casual conversation, with no intention of forking over my hard-earned cashish this lonely Thursday evening. I’m sure NPR is very well to do. I saw Bill Gates on there last week.They’re like that bitch from high school always negging herself just to get compliments on Facebook: “Guuuuys this Crate and Barrel furniture is trash.” Every simp online: “Nooooo… it looks good.” Her: “Thaaanks, doesn’t it?!” NPR we get it you’re a “public broadcasting station supported by your contributions.” Well, guess what? Might you “contribute to the arts” and support my Go Fund Me: Animal Macramé. All proceeds go towards paraplegics. No… they don’t. I’m not that good of a person. But, I’m really hoping this macrame thing takes off because then what else was all that time spent in quarantine learning to knit for? No, seriously, what?! I’m going out of my goddamn mind and if someone doesn’t buy one of my tiny knitted baby elephants soon I’m going to SERIOUSLY —
Okay, back to casual conversation that was or wasn’t going down on NPR’s hotline. Spoiler alert, obviously they picked up, obviously the old lady (who I’m presuming has a lot of cats), Iris, who answered was sweet. She reminded me of my grandma or a warm cup of tea. Her voice was inching on shrill as I drew out the call with questions. But, all in all she seemed delightful.
Me: “So, what are you doing right now?”… “So, do you ever think about death.. you know, since you’re so close to it?”… “Do you have any friends?”…“I’m picturing a cat sweater… what are you wearing right now?”
An hour later, to keep her on the line, I did have to buy an NPR tote. Get this! Immediately after I forked over some serious change for that book bag (when I don’t even own any books), she says, “Alright sweetie, I have to catch a train.” So, I asked for her landline, because I — being self employed, waiting for my macrame empire to explode — have all the time in the world… And, she hung up!
I gave good phone so maybe the call just dropped. But, all I know is it’s been weeks and every time I call NPR someone new picks up. One lady said Iris just quit after twenty years of volunteering. I shudder to think that I had anything to do with it. Probably one of her cats died or something. Meanwhile, I have so much to tell these new recruits… like I bought books to go in the book bag. What, was I going to walk around with an empty NPR tote, looking like a damn illiterate poser? You know, of course, I only bought the classics: Mark Twain, Hemingway, Shakespeare… And, then, I bought clogs because Iris had mentioned she was wearing clogs. So, I thought, if she ever did answer, this would be a good casual topic to talk about: how clogs sometimes chafe…why not enough people wear clogs…why were they only a trend of the 90’s?…you get the picture.
Hoping I’d run into Iris, more out of genuine concern, I joined the country club where she’d mentioned her “friends” hang. I stomped into that club, breaking in my new clogs, once a week until finally I ran into that birdwatching group she’d mentioned… one step closer to finding her whereabouts, I joined to uncover clues. The actual watching part…of the birds…although painstakingly monotonous, required these really cool binoculars, which I used to people watch instead: “NPR listeners in their natural habitat, playing chess with Leno in the background, sipping soy espressos.” It’s been one year since I first tuned into NPR and spoke to Iris. I still haven’t found her, or actually read the books in my tote bag. But, I can honestly say that meeting Iris, and most especially buying this NPR tote bag has changed my life. I am getting blisters from these clogs. And the ladies at the country club can be soooo catty at their SPCA fundraisers, where I recently was guilted into adopting a cat. I’d like to think I’ve changed for the better or at least now I feel better than the rest of society — people who don’t donate to NPR.