This Is a Book - Demetri Martin [22]
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Optimist,
Pessimist, Contortionist
Take a look at this glass of water.
OPTIMIST: The glass is half full.
PESSIMIST: The glass is half empty.
CONTORTIONIST: I can fit both of my feet in there, no problem.
It just started raining.
OPTIMIST: Good. We could use the rain.
PESSIMIST: Damn. It’s probably going to rain all day.
CONTORTIONIST: When I’m wet, it’s easier for me to get in and out of certain things, like an umbrella holder, for example. Although, antique ceramics can be a real problem. I learned that the hard way at a private party once. They had to break me out of that umbrella holder. And then the hostess got really mad about it. I hate people who are not flexible. No pun intended.
We found a lump on your neck.
OPTIMIST: It’s probably just a cyst.
PESSIMIST: Oh God, I’m going to die.
CONTORTIONIST: That’s my toe.
An unmarked package has just arrived.
OPTIMIST: I bet it’s a gift.
PESSIMIST: It’s probably a bomb.
CONTORTIONIST: Let me see that… It’s Ralph. He’s doing my box bit. Son of a bitch! That’s my bit. All right, let’s send this box back, but first let’s put some tape over those little air holes.
What is your favorite snack?
OPTIMIST: I love pretzels!
PESSIMIST: I don’t eat snacks. They make you fat.
CONTORTIONIST: Did somebody say “pretzel”? Check this out…
That man looks like he’s choking.
OPTIMIST: I can save him.
PESSIMIST: It’s probably too late.
CONTORTIONIST: Been there. I once choked on my elbow.
Your luggage has not yet arrived from Phoenix.
OPTIMIST: I’m sure it’ll be here soon.
PESSIMIST: It’s gone.
CONTORTIONIST: I know. I’m inside it.
It’s the first day of Spring.
OPTIMIST: Great. This is my favorite season.
PESSIMIST: Crap. This is allergy season.
CONTORTIONIST: I’ll never forget the time I sneezed into my ass.
Describe yourself in two words.
OPTIMIST: “Hopeful idealist.”
PESSIMIST: “Cautious cynic.”
CONTORTIONIST: “Fisherman’s knot.”
We’re Pr
egnant
We’re pregnant!
We’re 12 weeks already.
We’re so excited!
WEEK 13
We’re shopping for baby clothes. Wait, what? We are? Already? Uh, we’re thinking it might be a little early for that, but—nope, we are told we are wrong about this and that we should just let us enjoy this. Got it.
WEEK 14
We’re suddenly getting moody, very moody. We’re blaming this on our hormones. When we gently point out that we might be acting a little bit unreasonable, we fly off the handle at us, as if to say “Unreasonable?! I’ll show you unreasonable!”
WEEK 16
We’re wanting to talk about the pregnancy constantly, as if there is nothing else in the world to talk about. We’re being cool with this, though, because we understand that we’re pregnant here. And in case we forget that, we are sure to frequently remind us about it.
WEEK 18
We’re gaining a lot of weight. We mean a lot. We made a harmless joke about this, something like “Wow, honey, do you have triplets in there?” And in response to this we went and locked ourself in the bathroom, and now we won’t come out. We’re thinking about sneaking off to grab a quick drink with the guys while we’re in the bathroom, but we fear what we might do to us if we come out of the bathroom before we get home.
Who are we kidding? We’re not going anywhere. We’re not going to see the guys tonight… or maybe ever again.
WEEK 20
We’re really mad at us for something we’re not even sure we did. When we ask, “What’s the matter?” we start to cry and then go eat ice cream in the other room.
WEEK 21
We’re starting to think that we somehow read the e-mail we sent to our buddy Mark, in which we jokingly referred to us in our purple pajamas as “Grimace with a ponytail.” Uh oh.
WEEK 23
We’re crying over a car commercial. We’re now getting caught laughing at us crying at the car commercial. We’re explaining that we were actually laughing at something else, but we’re not buying it. And… there we go again, heading into the other room to eat ice cream alone.
WEEK 25
We