Infomercials for Insomniacs

‘Stop having a boring tuna, stop having a boring life’

Haven’t slept in seventeen days.

‘Life’s hard enough as it is, you don’t want to cry anymore.’

Another package arrived in the mail this morning. Piece of shit broke in two seconds. Too exhausted to call for a refund.

‘You’re gonna love my nuts.’

The television screen lit up with the spokesman’s shining grin. A smile escaped my lips.

‘If you call in the next twenty minutes we’ll throw in the Graty absolutely free!’

The phone is in my hand. How’d it get there? Credit card is on the table where I keep it on a permanent bas-

“Thank you for calling SWOOP, how can I help you?” English is pretty good this time. Maybe from Mumbai…

My mouth moves of its own accord these days. My consciousness simply along for the ride like a dog on a leash.

“Yeah hi, I’d like to buy the Slapchop. I just watched your infomercial. Does that mean I get the free graty? I don’t want it if I don’t get that.”

The line goes quiet. What’s she thinking about?

“Yes sir, it’s $19.95 plus an additional $4.95 for shipping and handling. How would you like to pay?” You mean how would Capital One like to pay. My balance transfer ponzi scheme continues.

“Mastercard please.” Another pause. Some heavy breathing. Is that her or me?

“Your order has been processed. Please expect delivery in 4-6 weeks.” When did I give her my card number? Oh well, doesn’t matter, I’m the proud owner of a Slapchop and I’m happy. I hung up and let my eyes glaze over the soft glow of the television. My excitement for my new piece de resistance quickly fades as the next infomercial begins.

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