A few weeks ago, I was in Walmart buying a jigsaw puzzle with my friend when two camp counselors mistook us for their campers. I should have been offended about being confused with a 12-year-old camper or concerned with the fact that people were using Walmart as a camping ground, but I had a more jarring realization. I had just passed into a different plane of existence; my life had become a sitcom.
(“Take On Me” by A-ha plays as pictures of me appear on screen. I am the only one in Walmart that notices what is happening.)
Suddenly, I was back in my friend’s car. She was talking about how she missed her dog, and I told her that was a “dog-gone shame.” That was the first time the laugh track played. That was also the first time I saw the credits appearing in front of me. Nick Cage has written, directed and produced every episode. (It’s no wonder half of my jokes fall flat.)
I always wanted to make people laugh, and NBC finally gave me that chance. They’ve given me great cast of supporting characters, and Nick Cage writes me some great scripts. My sister broke her foot while we tried to break into a castle in one episode. There was another episode where my friend and I almost got pick-pocketed by a magician. And of course, there was the episode where I wrote and hand delivered postcards to everyone I know.
I was excited about living in a sitcom at first. I loved how I was able to control flashbacks and how everyone spoke exclusively in one-liners.
But of course, sitcom life isn’t all peaches and butterflies. I only exist for half an hour a week, and the network gives away eight minutes of my time so someone else can try to sell you car insurance and prescription opioids.
The biggest problem that I face is that I can’t be serious anymore. The problem isn’t that people don’t take me seriously; the problem is that I don’t take myself seriously. Every time I try to have a serious conversation, I insert a joke. It could be a conversation about death, and I’d make the subtlest of puns.
But this is what I wanted, isn’t it? I wanted to make people laugh. That should be enough to make me happy.
But after hearing “Take On Me” 24 times, I realized that I’d much rather be living in a dramedy. Just think of the benefits! I would get a full hour every week, no laugh track and I might even be able to say something serious. Now I just need to pick someone to listen to my serious things. Don’t worry, I have someone in mind.
Does anyone have Rachel McAdams’ number?
