Comedy · Humor · Literature · Uncategorized · Writing

10 Reasons Why David Sedaris Won’t Marry Me

David Sedaris - The Man Who Won't Marry Me! (Image via Newyorker.com)

So the inevitable factoid finally came up: Gay marriage is legal in New York, and yet David Sedaris still won’t marry me.

Why? I’m perfectly nice, reasonably intelligent and can type more than 60 words a minute. I also make a mean rosemary roasted chicken and don’t need to refer to directions in order to operate an unfamiliar microwave oven. I once saw Liza Minnelli on the sidewalk in Manhattan and didn’t ask her for her autograph or attempt to snap an unflattering photo of her – due in part to the fact that I didn’t have a cell phone back then and only CIA cell phones had things like cameras embedded in them. A podiatrist once claimed I “have really nice feet” and I always say, “God bless you!” when people sneeze, as I think Gesundheit! sounds pretentious. My salt and pepper shaker collection is a sight to behold. Proficient at alphabetizing, I’ve organized my DVDs so that a poo-throwing chimp could locate my copy of Sliding Doors in three seconds flat.

Despite my impressive attributes, I’ve been told that there are a number of reasons why David Sedaris would reject my marriage proposal:

1)      David Sedaris is a gay man. I am a straight woman. And yes, I realize that the legalization of gay marriage really has nothing to do with whether or not David Sedaris can or will marry me…but it was a great hook.

2)      David Sedaris has a partner named Hugh. I have a husband named Matt who already tolerates the fact that I have one gay husband (okay, it’s not legal. Geez, like I’d become a bigamist for someone who isn’t David Sedaris).

3)      David Sedaris is a famous writer who has sold over seven million books. I’m a famous writer (and probably a stalker, in the mind of David Sedaris) who has sold about seven copies of a chapbook entitled, Mind the Gap .

4)      David Sedaris speaks French. I eat French fries with gusto and can, when pressed, use words like quiche and voilá appropriately.

5)      David Sedaris has a famous sister. I have a cousin who lives in a trailer with two of her three grown kids and several of her grandchildren.

6)      David Sedaris charges 55 bucks a head for decent seats at one of his readings. I ply friends, acquaintances and total strangers (some shoeless) with the promise of free liquor and sandwiches in order to warm a few seats at one of my poetry readings.

7)      David Sedaris has a Tweet-a-Day Fan Site with 17,000 followers (he follows zilch – not a single, solitary person – not even Alan Cumming, who follows him). My Twitter account is followed by 62 people, at least 12 of whom are employed in the sex industry (I follow 86 people, including Alan Cumming.)

Alan Cumming - Probably My Competition For The Heart Of David Sedaris (Image via ptownfilmfest.org)

8)      David Sedaris reads his essays aloud on This American Life and on David Letterman’s show. When I read an essay aloud to my husband in the privacy of our living room, he demands that I hand him the computer so that he can read it himself because “I’m a terrible actress.”

9)      David Sedaris has given up smoking. I’m thinking about taking the habit up because it might be the best way to lose weight and/or fool others into thinking I’m a supermodel if I do it while sipping champagne and whining about what a bitch Gisele is in person.

10)   David Sedaris lives in London. I live in Florida, but insist that my husband – gay or otherwise – reside in the same country I do, otherwise it makes playing board games and sharing popcorn difficult.

London - Wouldn't Mind Popping Over Twice A Year For The Harrod's Sale (Image via Cristy Lewis)

It’s probably all for the best. I’m sure after a few long years together, I’d tire of David Sedaris saying all the clever, pithy things first. As he ran out of humiliating stories about his own family, he’d inevitably begin scrabbling through the plethora of material available about mine – and then what would I write about? “No, David, you can’t write about my first period. I don’t care if it’s funnier when you tell it.” Our perfect, asexual life of shared erudite magazines and talking about his latest book deals would eventually sour like a pitcher of sweet tea left out on the counter for too long. I’d eventually stop reading his essays altogether, and would start rolling my eyes above the rim of my martini glass as he told the one about my father challenging the school bully who punched me at a football game to a round of kung foo fighting – I know, it’s funnier when he tells it – to our friends over dinner. It would end badly. His Grammy (by then, he would have finally won) broken on the floor, copies of my chapbook thrown into the fireplace, and Matt and Hugh, standing side-by-side, arms crossed against their chests, shaking their heads in a way that says, It was never going to work. What were they thinking?

David Sedaris' Future Grammy - Let's End This Now Before I End Up Breaking Your Golden Gramophone (Image via Wikipedia)

So by not marrying me, David Sedaris, you’re doing us both a favor. Years from now, I’ll still be enjoying your books, and Matt won’t have left me because he became sick to death of hearing “David this” and “David that,” as I bitched about your continued success and the pressure of living in your shadow. I don’t know where you’ll mine your new material, but I suspect we’ll be hearing about the first time Hugh had a wet dream, at some point. And that’s okay. Because it’s funnier when you tell it.

58 thoughts on “10 Reasons Why David Sedaris Won’t Marry Me

  1. loved. and i’ll fight you for him. we’ll both be fighting over a gay who wants neither of us. i think that would make us look like two basketball wives trying to compete for brett michaels affections, but you can’t knock around two girls for trying. again, loved.

      1. no, never a good sign at all. awwww, perhaps i was more looking forward to our three-legged race, as opposed to the actual prize. such is the wank, wank of life, i suppose. great post, tho.

  2. I am pretty sure i’m not one the 12 twitter followers you have in the sex industry which must mean that I am one a group i like to call “The fabulous 50”. This is one of your better pieces I think. Taking up smoking is absolutely something every artist should for a period of time so that you can write pieces about how much it sucks to quit. Every writer has a vice and french fries could be awesomely all your on in place of smoking but neither are very healthy thus interchangeable. I think it is far easier to develop an addiction to both so you won’t have to go through the agony of choosing. I’ve never thought of actually having a girlfriend in THIS country which could be why i’ve had such horrible relationships.

  3. I’m sorry that you can’t marry David Sedaris. I have the same problem with his sister, Amy. I follow your blog and am not in the sex industry. Am I doing something wrong?

    1. No, the sex workers are still in the minority. However, I had to block about 200 Russians last week who were also following me. I was flattered and all, but it turns out that it was just part of an attempt to fill Twitter with so much gibberish that real discussions about the Russian elections would be overlooked by the government. I was a mere pawn those seeking to overthrow Putin’s reign of power.

  4. Personally I’d argue that there is only reason why he won’t marry you, and that’s because he doesn’t know about point 4. If you can appropriately use words like that then you’re every guy’s dream guy, gay or not 🙂

  5. Only writer I’ve taken the time to “like” on FB, although I’m adding John Green as soon as I get around to it. Like maybe next year. DS has nothing on you other than first to market advantage….like FB versus Google+. Just sayin. =)

    1. This is why I love you, Stacie Chadwick! I’ll make sure to tell David Sedaris when I meet him at his reading next month that according to you, “he’s got nothing on me other than first to market advantage.” I bet he’ll be quaking in his expensive boots.

  6. I’m keeping my copy of the chapbook. It is among the many treasures my children can sell on eBay since I will likely leave them no inheritance beyond a mangey cat and a bag of wild rice.

  7. Dammit, Cristy. I read “roasted rosemary chicken” and then read your post, all the while salivating over roasted rosemary chicken. I have no idea what the hell I just read. So, now I have to go read your post all over again. If this happens again, you are going to have to actually make it and have it Fed Exed to West Virginia. (Great post. hehe)

  8. I like how you start off saying he won’t marry you and then the tables get turned and its you who won’t marry him. Way to keep up the self esteem. Hooray for you. Lets chat sometime about how annoying David is – as he is always stalking you. I’m not criticizing. I actually think this is healthy in moderation of course.

  9. Damn it! I thought I was his number one stalker/fan. Maybe I don’t want to marry him, but I would like to keep him in my closet, so that he could yell pithy anecdotes at me as I walk by. That’s not creepy, is it? Huh, I wonder why he doesn’t friend me on facebook.

    1. Don’t feel bad, Fathead. David apparently has a fear of technology, so I understand that his FB page is run my his management and publisher. So it’s not that David doesn’t like you, it’s just that his “people” don’t like you. Re: the closet idea – not bad, but I’m afraid the coats and closed door would muffle his pithy words. Perhaps you have a pedestal that he could crouch or sit cross-legged on in the corner of the room?

  10. Oh, Cristy. If you need a shoulder to cry on, then mine is available. I dated at least two gay men in high school (pre-emergence from the proverbial closet). I must have felt very safely asexual/nonthreatening/friend-only material. Lord knows it wasn’t because I am funny…

  11. I wouldn’t have expected you to give up so easily. I mean, a paltry 10 reasons? I have 5 times that amount of reasons why my husband shouldn’t have married me, and he still did. I, for one, refuse to surrender hope, and will be awaiting my invite to the wedding.

    1. What can I say? There just aren’t 11 reasons why David Sedaris won’t marry me. He’s really very close to doing it. I mean, there’s only ten measly things standing between us and marital bliss. If I were you, I’d start looking at gifts for us. I haven’t registered us anywhere, but we like things that are extremely expensive, that are feminine, and that are called “jewelry” by most store clerks. Hope that helps.

    1. Not to push you to read more, but if you’ve read this one, you must read it’s follow up: The 11th Reason Why David Sedaris Won’t Marry Me.

      I still don’t believe it, but it’s 100% true. Oh, do they play Mr. Sedaris more often in the Raleigh area? I do believe that is from whence he hails. I can’t believe I just wrote that. Don’t I sound like a pretentious fuck?

      1. Sure, I’ll check out the follow-up.
        Sedaris wasn’t playing in Raleigh, I was listening to him on a CD in a car! Just to give you competition in pretentious fuckiness, you don’t need to add from when you use whence. Whence means from where.

      2. Oh, thank you Grammar God. Now I can’t decide if you win for pretentious fuckiness or if Kitchen Slattern does – she informed me that I was using the word myriad incorrectly. Unfortunately, you’re both right, so all I can do is sit around, moaning the gradual deterioration of my brain cells.

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