I turn the computer on and connect to the Internet. There’s junk mail from various porno sites, delete, delete, and delete. No letters. I get off, because I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, it was my time to relax. Next, I turn to the radio and turn it on, eight time Grammy winner, Santana, nah, Ms. Breast Implants, no thanks, “Back That Ass Up,” I think I’ll pass. Good evening ladies and gentlemen, our final destination today is the television.
The first station that pops up is ABC, left over from last night’s Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, or was that Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire, or was that Who Doesn’t Care Who’s a Millionaire. “Jake, I really thought you loved me! How could you betray me like that? Especially with Erica? She’s my best friend, the nerve you have.” Karen storms out in a fit of rage, the camera changes angles, and zooms into Jake’s remorseful expression.
What could I possibly watch? MTV was showing a rerun of a Fanatic episode, with a prepubescent female, from last night, featuring some artist I had never heard of. Ice Cube? Ice T? Vanilla Ice? I don’t know, something with Ice. So after much contemplation about goat cheese and cabbage, I decide I should check out what trashy subject was on Springer. I flip back to the basic cable channels and I see no Springer, but Montel was on, same thing, good enough. “On the next Montel Williams Show: Neighbors Who Watch Neighbors Get Undressed. If you ever watch your neighbors get undressed and you want to tell them, or if you know your neighbors watch you and you want to confront them, call 1-800-Montel-2. If you’re going to be in the New York area and you would like to be in the studio audience, please call 1-212-863-1915 for tickets. You can also email us as tickets@montel.com.” How weird would it be to be Montel, I thought, meeting crazy, deranged, out of this world people everyday? I bet he’s going to have a lot of stories to tell his grandchildren.
“Montel! You’re on in five!” Whoa, who just said that? I look around, no more couch under my butt, no more TV in front of me, no more remote in my hand. I was on the set of, apparently, The Montel Williams Show. I wonder where he is, he’s going on in five!
I don’t see him anywhere, and suddenly someone slaps me on the back, and says, “Yo Montel, come on, you’re on in three!” Me Montel? Last time I checked, I was only me. I look down, an Asian girl turned black man! Someone comes running up to me with a microphone in their hand, and shoves it at me. “Go, you’re on now!” In a complete haze, I walk out onto the stage with a whole audience chanting, “Montel, Montel, Montel.” I panicked, I had no idea what I had to do or what I had to say. But I needed to play it cool. In my earpiece I hear a low voice say, “Just watch the teleprompter and start talking when the crowd gets quiet again.” I had a couple more seconds to kill because the audience was still cheering, thank god for them.
I look up, and there’s a huge teleprompter with all my lines. I was set, it was all good. “Hello everybody and welcome to The Montel Williams Show. On today’s show we have neighbors who watch neighbors get undressed. Aren’t you excited?” This is exactly what was on TV when I was watching it, when I was still cozy in my own house. “Our first guest today is a Angela. Angela wants to confess to her neighbor that she watches him everyday at night when he’s getting ready for bed and she likes what she sees!” A laughter works its way around the audience. “She wants to admit to him finally and come clean, but I believe her ultimate goal is to get a date with this guy. Let’s bring out Angela. Everyone welcome Angela!”
Angela walks out in one of those tiny skirts with shorts underneath, her shirt is low cut, exposing something Britney Spears obviously wished for. Her hair is a little longer than shoulder length, bleached blond, and I’d have to say she’s the dumb blonde of today’s show. “So Angela, tell me, who’s this guy you’ve been spying on?”
“Well, um, he’s this neighbor I have. He like lives right next door to me, and when he first moved in, I brought him this, um, cake. Right then I knew I liked what I saw. Montel, you’re not bad yourself. But, when he comes out, you’ll see that he’s really...”
Ok, excuse me while I puke. I couldn’t believe Montel could stand people like that, I would never be able to do what he does everyday. Kudos to him, but I can’t deal with dumb blondes hitting on me, I’m out of here.
As I walk off, the audience starts whispering, “Where does he think he’s going? He can’t walk off in the middle of the show. Montel, come back!” When the real Montel comes back, he’ll continue the show, but for the time being, they’re just going to have to wait. I walk into the dressing room seeing there was no where else to escape to, and I find myself at home again, watching Montel on TV. I guess he made it back. Good luck, man.