I’ve never written a column before. I don’t know much about how columns work, to be honest. So, I asked the little old lady I always see walking up and down my street (exercise, I suppose) for some advice. She told me that if she had a column, she’d start by introducing herself with “stuff that’s relevant.”
Fair enough.
My name is Lili Culhane. I’m 21 years old. I like to read and I do not like fancy cheeses and I am good at getting knots out of necklaces. Maybe that’s not the relevant stuff people want to know but it’s the relevant stuff people need to know.
Then, she said she would “crack a joke or two. Something to lighten the mood.” I told her I wasn’t really in the joking mood and she told me to write this:
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
It’s Jerry. You told me to get here at 2.
Oh, yeah sorry, Jerry. I forgot I invited you over.
If you don’t like it, blame the lady. Not me. I don’t even know who Jerry is, for God sakes. Sorry — didn’t mean to get cross there.
Finally, she said, “it’s important to remind people that their voices are heard.” Shame she doesn’t really understand how this whole me-writing-a-column-alone-in-my-room thing works. Nonetheless, the old bag seems to have a general grasp on just about everything — I mean she wears a suede jacket with fringe on the back September through November, and then again February through August. Nothing says “I have it together” more than a suede jacket with fringe on the back — it’s practically screaming at the top of its lungs.
You know, looking back on our conversation, I never did catch her name. Perhaps that makes me a bad person, but I think I neglected to do so because I already feel like I know her. I mean, I see her every single day. More accurately: I stress-riddenly decipher if I have to smile every time I pass her on the street every single day.
But she never asked my name, either. So, if me not asking her name makes me a bad person, then maybe she, too, is a bad person; just better dressed in her western getup. (For the record, I’m not dressed too shabby, either. I wear cute boots and sometimes I even wear jeans without rips in them).
For all intents and purposes, let’s call her Berta, because she looked like a Berta (you had to be there).
I think Berta would be really pleased with that name. And maybe she would be really pleased with my first ever column, too. After all, I followed all her advice; and though she is not a journalist (I don’t think she is a journalist? She is probably a spy), I don’t think she led me astray.
I look forward to speaking with you all soon. And hearing your voices… or, at least, you reading words in the style of mine.
For Berta.
A beautiful perspective on a little encounter you have daily. Can’t wait to read more !!
So excited for more! What a fabulous writer you are.
Love this!
Love this creative piece of writing, Lili!
Love it Lil?
!!!**