A film crew – a producer, a reporter, two lighting guys, a cameraman, an intern, the cameraman’s prom date, the reporter’s arch-nemesis, the intern’s stunt double, and a partridge in a pear tree – all showed up at my place on Friday to shoot a segment on the Minglers for the show 190 North. I think I would’ve been fine and not sounded like a sleep-deprived, intoxicated lunatic who didn’t graduate middleschoool and suffers from ADD, but they did my interview at 8:25, with guests arriving at 8:30. So there was me on one side of the firing line, facing the tiny producer who stood on a step stool so that she was my level, the camera which was the size of a medium-sized dog an inch from my face, two lights each the size of a tanning bed, the rest of the crew, and a growing-group of poor Mingler guests who not only had to walk into an already awkward “I don’t know anyone here and there are spotlights following my every move” situation but had to listen to my innane babble while they shifted in damp clothes and juggled their bottles of wine from one hand to the other. All staring at me as I attempted to answer what might have appeared to be simple questions, like “Spell your name,” but in reality were daggers of complexity and attempts to keep me from being successful in life.
No, I have NO idea when it’ll air.