Wait, we don’t have a moustache.

 

Q1:  I’ve always wanted one.  So I just grew it before the interview.

How do you just grow a moustache?

 

Q1:  Ask Condoleeza Rice.  Anyway, I’m supposed to be the one posing the questions.

I feel inferior to you and your moustache.  You’re showing me up.  I’m Robin, and the moustache is Bat Man.

 

Q1:  I feel like I’m the sort of interviewer who’d have finely groomed facial hair accenting the curvature of my upper lip.

I dig it.

 

Q1:  Thanks.  So… the questions.

Pose away.

 

Q1:  There’s really only one thing I want to know.

Shoot.

 

Q1:  Was the bed already wet?

Obviously the bed was wet.  No one can deny the fact that there’s a certain wetness to the bed.

 

Q1:  But you’re sticking to your story?

Which story?

 

Q1:  That’s right: Capt. Evasion.

Sergeant Evasion; I’ve been busted back a rank.

 

Q1:  Did you wet the bed?

(pointing at Q2): Ask him.

 

Q2: Leave me out of this, amigos; I’m minding my personal business, keeping my distance from you animals.  Just let me Facebook chat in peace.

Q1 (to Q2): In the name of due diligence, I should inquire as to whether or not your bladder was accidentally relieved of its freight during the night.

Q2 (to Q1): Please don’t be angry with me for saying this, but you’re letting him walk all over you…

Now who’s being Capt. Evasion?

 

Q2: Leave me alone, please.  All I was trying to do was Facebook chat with someone I haven’t seen since the 6th grade.  He was the best freeze tag player I ever saw, amigos.

Q1 (to Q2): Please, tell the truth: was your bladder accidentally relieved of its freight last night?

Q2: You’re seriously inquiring about that?

Q1: What kind of urine-detective would I be if I didn’t?

Q2: Is that a real thing, a urine-detective?

Q1: Probably in Amsterdam.

That moustache is making you mean.

 

Q1: It’s making me focused, a go-getter.  It is power; there is power on my face!

I give up.  Anybody feel like pancakes?

 

Q2 (to Q1): This is what he does… you give him an inch and next thing you know, we’re eating pancakes and talking about something else and he’s not accountable for his actions.  I’ve been reading a lot of self-help about boundaries and…

Not accountable?  I’m accountable for making us kick ass pancakes.

 

Q2: Why is it impossible for you to be honest about anything?

Family of origin issues.

 

Q2: I guess that excuses anything.

It’s the carte blanche of cry babies.

 

Q1: All I know is that I’m the only one I can say for certain is not an accidental bladder reliever in the sheets.  You two politicians keep talking in circles.  Me and the moustache are innocent.

Do we have any syrup?

 

Q1: Me and ‘stache are no longer dignifying this conversation with our participation.  You two nimrods can sort it out.

Weren’t we supposed to be talking about Termite Parade?

 

Q2: This is no time for your self-enterprising drivel, amigo.

(to Q2): At least he has the moustache as an excuse.  Why are you being so mean?

 

Q2: Sorry, I’m just squeamish today.  We got another threatening letter from the IRS.  They’re frothing for a testicle.

Q1: I just throw those away.  Me and the ‘stache don’t take no shit from the government.

I’m pretty worried about our testicles.

 

Q2: It was me, amigos.  I wet the bed.  I enjoyed two glasses of chamomile tea before going nighty-night.  I’m sorry, guys.

Q1: Better than our whiskey-drinking days, when this was a regular occurrence.  All is forgiven as far as me and the ‘stache are concerned.

Q2: Thanks for being so understanding.

Q1: Don’t mention it.

Q2 (to author): Are we still friends?

Well, the world just found out we’re bed wetters.  But besides that, yeah, I’d say things are all good.

 

Q1: Then let’s pancake-up, bitches!  Me and the ‘stache are starving.

Will you ask me at least one question about Termite Parade?  Please?

 

Q1: What should I ask you?  I only wanted to know who wet the bed.

Q2: You could ask about his inspiration.

Q1: Stay out of this, drippy drawers.

Q2: Jeez Louise, no need to be nasty.  I’m going back to my Facebook chat with the greatest freeze tag player Phoenix, Arizona has ever known.

Q1 (to author): Here’s a solid question: is Termite Parade any good?

You’re asking me if the book is good?

 

Q1: Well, sure, that’ll help people know if they wanna buy it.

I hear what you’re saying, but I can’t really answer that question.

 

Q1: Why not?  You wrote the fucking thing.

Exactly.  I’m too invested, too immersed in it.

 

Q1: The ‘stache would like a straight answer.

Fine, yes, it’s good.

 

Q1: You got quite an ego for a bed wetter, you know that?  Now where oh where are these pancakes you keep threatening to make…

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JOSHUA MOHR is the author of the novels Some Things that Meant the World to Me, which was one of O Magazine's Top 10 reads of 2009, Termite Parade, and, most recently, Damascus (Two Dollar Radio). He has an MFA from the University of San Francisco and has published numerous short stories and essays in publications such as 7×7, the Bay Guardian, Zyzzyva, The Rumpus, Other Voices, the Cimarron Review, Gulf Coast and Pleiades, among many others. He lives in San Francisco and teaches fiction writing. Please visit him at www.joshuamohr.net.

One response to “Joshua Mohr: The TNB 
Self-Interview”

  1. EL says:

    “Q1: What kind of urine-detective would I be if I didn’t?
    Q2: Is that a real thing, a urine-detective?
    Q1: Probably in Amsterdam.
    That moustache is making you mean.
    Q1: It’s making me focused, a go-getter. It is power; there is power on my face!”

    Cracking up! My favorite of these so far. I think the mustache version and I are going to be fast friends some day.

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