This Is a Book - Demetri Martin [3]
The megaphone proved to be a great way to help blind people too. I’d sometimes shout helpful directions through the megaphone to guide a blindie if I saw one. Sometimes I could even make it into a little game for myself and narrate what the person was doing: “There he goes. It looks like he’s headed towards the curb now. Oh he’s feeling it out and… up he goes! This guy has hardly bumped into anything so far!”
You learn a lot when you have a megaphone. You learn that children’s ears are more sensitive than adults’, and that the parents of those children can have really short fuses. You also learn that it’s hard to take back things that you’ve said through a megaphone and that it’s not the best way to break up with somebody.
Is it easier to meet women with a megaphone? Yes. Does that mean that you should use that megaphone when you sleep with one of them? No. Absolutely not—no matter how right it may feel at the time.
As I got more into the megaphone I found that certain people really seemed to have a hard time with it (including friends, family, acquaintances, strangers, and most other people too). It showed me just how jealous people can become when someone finally finds his calling. But, I guess that’s people for you.
As I learned and experimented more, I started to get really good with the megaphone. I could whisper through it and make it sound like a normal speaking voice (as I mixed my whisper with the phone’s “mega” mechanism).
The more I used the megaphone, the better I became at using it. My creativity blossomed, and eventually I became what some might call a “megaphone artist.” I was able to use words like “wistful” and “aplomb” through the megaphone without it sounding too weird.
Sometimes I would just turn on the megaphone and let it capture my breathing, which for some reason really pissed people off.
But, as skilled as I had become, I was beginning to rely on the megaphone too much. I carried it with me all the time. Whenever I felt awkward I would reach for my megaphone and say just whatever came to mind—like “Do do do do” or “Ta ta ta ta” or “Do ta do ta do” or “Heads up!”
My worst moment was probably the time I got drunk with the megaphone. If you thought I was talky regularly, you should see me with 2 or 12 shots of tequila in me. Needless to say, that night I ended up in the hospital. The doctor said that the megaphone probably saved my life. Apparently if I hadn’t fallen asleep with the megaphone on my mouth I would have puked into my mouth instead of into the megaphone. And that could have been fatal.
Even though I was okay, that experience was a real wake-up call for me. It was clear that I had a problem. Plus, my megaphone smelled terrible.
I decided it was time to give up the megaphone. And I quit megaphoning cold turkey. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. Immediately, I could feel how badly I needed something to fill the void. I found myself using anything I could as a megaphone: rolled-up paper, my hand pancakes. I even tried talking into a bag, but that proved to be dangerous, especially during some of my longer rants. I was lost.
Then one day, while I was shouting through a parking cone that I found on Doug’s newly paved driveway, I had a revelation. “Who am I kidding?” I thought out loud, to myself. “These other objects I’m talking through are all really just megaphones in disguise. I mean, even my own mouth is just a little megaphone, right? Life is too short and I have too much to say, and I—.” Then Doug kind of charged at me and ripped the cone out of my hands and asked me to get off his driveway. That’s when I knew what I had to do. I got up and headed straight for the hardware store, where I bought a brand-new megaphone… the very one you have been hearing me speak through tonight, ladies and gentlemen. When I got that new megaphone I put it up to my mouth and I have never looked back since. Although, I’ve