Conan and the Polygamist

Every year in my undergraduate studies, everyone in my major had the opportunity to go to New York City for a week if they desired. In New York they would visit high end retail establishments to find out how they work, and what it takes to make it big in the big apple. One year I decided to take advantage of this opportunity, and I paid to go to The City with a gang of giggling girls, also known as my peers.

Once I got there, I wondered why I had come. I didn't want to work in retail. I didn't have any friends who were going. I don't like to party hardy. And I don't have much interest in New York in general. But by the time I figured all this out, it was far too late to back out. So I went with it.

I just so happened to become really good friends with my roommate on the first day, and we went everywhere together. That made one aspect of it not so bad.

This friend also happened to have four tickets to the Conan O'Brian show, and asked if I would like to go. I shrugged, sure, why not?

So my friend and I, and two others went off at three in the afternoon to the studio. We went from a bright and promising day, into a dark building where time and freedom seemed to disappear as they locked a great heavy door behind us. Then sat us in hard, unyeilding chairs.

We sat there, a crowd of strangers, in a dark room, with a few can lights shining on us, and unpowered microphones in our faces. We attempted conversation, but it was soon quelled as a small man flanked by two large men appeared in front of us. He gave us the low down, was witty, clever, and then tried being our friend.

"Who here is from out of state?" he asked.

I raised my hand.

"Where are you from?" he asked me.

I told him.

"Oh yes, the land of Mormons. . . How many husbands do you have?"

I told him I had twenty.

"Just one?" he apparently hadn't heard me very well. "Is this your husband?" He asked pointing to the strange man sitting next to me.

"No," I repeated loudly, "I have twenty."

He stopped his monologue and just stared at me, obviously not knowing how to respond. Then simply turned to someone else, and changed the subject.

I thought my response was quite clever and funny, and I was feeling okay about it until later when another girl from our gang, a girl who had not been to the Conan show asked me why I had responded that way.

"You made us all look stupid," she said angrily. "They probably thought you were serious." Then she turned away.

This took me off gaurd. What sensible person would think I was serious? And who was she? I had never talked to her before in my life, why was she yelling at me? What a ho!

I thought she was stupid, and I thought the guy's question was stupid, so he go a stupid answer. And that's all I have to say about that.