Tuesday, 7 February 2017
Denise: So, Nick, post number one thousand. How do you feel about this fantastic milestone?
Nick: It's okay. All in the day's work, really.
Denise: Oh come on, enough of the stuffed-shirt masculinity. Admit it, you're incredibly excited.
Nick: Not at all. It's just one foot in front of the other really. It's just an arbitrary number. I mean, who gives a fuck if it's 1000 or 973 or ten zillion?
Denise: Still the same old Nick, eh? Pretending to be laid-back, deadpan, blasé, nonchalant, while underneath you're a boiling cauldron of red-hot emotions. I bet in private you're leaping up and down, whooping for joy, punching the air.
Nick: Your imagination's overheating, Denise. Really, it's just another post. Just another bit of scribble on the back of an envelope.
Denise: Okay, I get the idea. You're not giving anything away. Just one thing though. Isn't it time you told us your last name? Is it something embarrassing?
Nick: It's Zeigler.
Denise: Really? What, like Toby Zeigler in The West Wing? That's a great name.
Nick: No, I'm fibbing. It's not Zeigler.
Denise: So what is it then? Widebottom? Smellie? Bracegirdle? Hooker?
Nick: It's Rogers. A name so nondescript it's not worth mentioning.
Denise: I won't lie. It's an incredibly boring name. My commiserations. One other thing. You're not really a fucked-up neurotic mess, are you? It's just a big pretence to lure people in, right? In reality you're 100% sane and healthy and totally relaxed about life. Correct?
Nick: I wish. I'm hang-up central, like half the population. Which isn't surprising as we live in an unhealthy, uptight, authoritarian society. And now, if you'll excuse me, I feel a panic attack coming on.
Denise: Is there anything I can do?
Nick: Yes, leave me alone in my introvert hell (sobs quietly)
Denise: What an icon! What a national treasure! What would we do without him?
Pic: Denise Drizzle