Convincing Kim

For three days now, I've been trying to convince Austin writer Kim Lane to appear on this Austin cable access show called Box of Bugs. The catch? It's on Channel 16 -- from midnight till 1:30 a.m. Saturday morning -- and she'd have to cohost the show with me.

The regular host, Shelly, is cool beyond belief and offered to let me take his place an entire night. So I want some company.

Besides kicks, there's another reason I want to host the show with Kim. Salt for Slugs, a national literary magazine, recently lowered its exacting standards and now lets me publish articles in every issue. Each quarterly issue is built around a theme, and the next issue's theme is "insects."

I thought of an article idea immediately. I'd write this long-ass story -- bla, bla, bla, bla -- and at the end say, "Insects? I thought you said incest." And while that idea still works as a possible bail-out plan, I would rather not write the article because 1) It would really piss of my sister, and 2) My brother even more. [Hey, have I given this type of joke enough play yet? Has it run its damn course? Cause I'm thinking it has. What am I here? Dave Barry? Give it a fuckin' rest, Jasper.]

But then I remembered Box of Bugs (Get it? Bugs... insects...) and thought, "That's it. I'll go on the show, create havoc, then write about it later. If possible, I'll bring a cohost and take someone down with me."

Kim seemed the perfect fit. She performs on NPR, writes for the Internet and laughs at all my jokes. The show is perfect as well, since Box of Bugs is a phone-in talk show about life and relationships. The kicker? Because it's on local access, you can say whatever you want, and most of the callers are rude.

Jasper: Next caller.
Caller: You look like a fag to me.
Jasper: Hey, I warned you not to turn around while I was fucking you up the ass. Next caller.

Not to put pressure on Kim, but everyone should help me convince her that appearing on television with me is a good idea. It's probably a mistake, but do it anyway. She's been telling me she's too shy to sit in front of the camera, but that doesn't ring true. Like me, Kim performs vocal essays for NPR. How come she's not too shy to do that?

"It's simple, Jasper. Of course, she's going to overcome her shyness and appear on NPR's All Things Considered, since that's an award-winning news magazine broadcast nationally to an intelligent and thoughtful audience. But what you're talking about is local cable access TV, where only drunks and perverts or both stay awake to watch. Besides, you'll likely embarrass her by saying something lewd and lascivious, such as, 'For the next 15 minutes, we'll only be taking calls from anyone, male or female, who wants to have sex with Kim Lane. Next caller.'"

Shut up! You're supposed to be helping me here. I could do the show alone, no doubt, but it would be much better with Kim's perspective. Think about it: Who the hell wants to fuck me? I've got to make sure I get a lot of callers that night, so I can impress everyone with my snappy-ass comebacks. And the best way to get a lot of callers is to bring on a colleague who's intelligent, articulate and a gorgeous fuckin' babe.

This is show biz, you know.

Having sculpted my big-ass rationalizations into a somewhat-convincing argument, I gave Kim a call a couple of nights ago, but got the baby sitter instead. Unfortunately, I was as boiled as an owl, so I thought I was talking to Kim.

Baby sitter: Hello.
Jasper: Baby, I put granulated sugar in my coffee for the first time in three months and I'm as hyped up as a greased weasel right now, so stop me if I pull a Neal Cassidy and talk too damn much, but I've got some exciting news and a great fuckin' idea.
Baby sitter: Ahhh, I'm not Kim. I'm watching the kids.
Jasper (with dreams of Amercian Beauty and Crikey Kid Snoop's Corvette dancing in his head): Really. So you're the baby sitter, huh? Well, I'll leave my number then. I'm home all day, so feel free to call. Ahhhh... I mean, tell Kim to call. I sometimes hire baby sitters, you know.
Baby sitter: Oh. You have kids, too?
Jasper: No, I don't. But I think ten dollars an hour to have a girl hang around the house is a pretty good deal.
Baby sitter: (Pause.) Okay, I'll let them know you called.

About five minutes after I hung up, it occurred to me that the baby sitter could be 16 and I could be in BIG trouble. Fortunately, it turns out she's 25 and a med student.

Hey, Kim? Think she can score some Viagra for me? Some Papaverine? We'll need them for the show.

"And as you can readily see, this 8-inch dildo and my penis are virtually identical. Next caller."

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can read anything else into it, you're on your own. Copyright 2000 by Mike Jasper.