On the Day David Sedaris Called Me

If I give it some thought, I'm a catastrophe, really -- a hapless female baby-boomer who lives in Miami and works more than full-time at a drugstore that combines the worst features of a call center and a pharmacy, feeling just as misunderstood as I did when I was lost during my misspent youth.

At the age of 60, I'm still learning how to survive each day by flying like a blind gosling into a concrete wall.

I have both ADHD and Bipolar disorder, and some days are worse than others; but on those really bad ones, at least someone is always calling me just because it's my job to take calls.

On that day, when the phone rang, I thought it would be another customer complaining about getting Prozac instead of Ritalin. But...

"This is David," the caller said in a pleasant, eager voice.

"David who?" I responded snidely. "David... Sedaris?! The night before, I was reading Understanding Owls by Sedaris while sobbing uncontrollably into my pillow, so Sedaris and owls had still been on my mind.

Of course, I knew it couldn't be Sedaris since he had more important things to do than call me, such as clean up litter on the streets or sign his sarky books at a folding table at Costco.

And what do you think?

"Yes. Sedaris," said the voice on the phone, cheerfully.

"Whoa," all I could say, as the hair on the back of my arm stood up all the way to the crease of my elbow and I felt myself breathing harder than if I'd run five blocks straight from a pack of vicious pit bulls.

To put it another way, I was a huge fan.

He sounded really nice over the phone, even nicer than my own mental image of him which is of a cute gay guy with a great haircut who's always waxing philosophical in The New Yorker or Esquire about taxidermied barn owls or something French before getting down on himself.

I drew a huge heart on the filthy surface of my desk with my index finger, smiling wide as if I had been picked for a prom queen at my senior high. I didn't care why he was calling, he was calling me, and that had to mean something.

"I'm calling about the ad I saw that you wrote," he said as if he could read my mind.

I touched my arm hair and couldn't feel it. My face was burning as if I've been choking on a hot sauce. "Umm...yes.. ."

"There are things in this ad that are... well... kind of..."

"Yes!" I shouted, drawing a big eye on my dirty desk with my finger. "Yes, yes, I SEE.."

It was a Craigslist ad of me seeking a roommate. It was probably the most profound writing I'd ever done because it was both heartfelt and made light of my own mental illness. It went like this, I remember:

"Ever since I read Kay Redfield Jamison's 'An Unquiet Mind,' I've wanted to live with someone who is bipolar like me so we both could be understood. The last thing I want is another stable roommate who takes her meds and watches TV all day."

I had no clue why Sedaris was drawn to this ad. I suppose it was because of his "juvenile fascination with the abnormal," but it didn't matter to me.

"Can I use your ad in one of my stories?" I heard him say.

Like a taxidermied owl coming to life, I twitched and perched on the edge of my seat, eyes wide and round.

"Of course!" I squeaked, scrambling for a writing pen as if I needed one, nearly knocking over the crystal ball I found in a dumpster two months ago.

I heard how he cleared his throat, how he shuffled papers. "I might send you a signed copy of my new book when it comes out.

"My assistant will call you to get your mailing address," he added. “Take care, gotta run,” and, “click,” he hanged up.

I stretched in my chair, trying to make sense of what just happened, and looked out the window toward the Miami River. It was so bright outside that I had to squint at all the dots of flying birds on the skyline until they begin to blur together.

Then, I put on some Lou Reed and closed my eyes. I sat back and thought about how lucky I was to have this for my life...

-- by Irina Patterson, December 17, 2022

*image credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/secretary-office-phone-1249538/

*https://pixabay.com/illustrations/art-owl-bird-wildlife-predator-4421571/

Thank you for reading, my other stories are here.