Undiscovered Gyrl: The novel that inspired the movie ASK ME ANYTHING (Vintage Contemporaries) by Allison Burnett
Authors: Allison Burnett
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trying to fall asleep, I hear a little whistle in my lungs that scares the shit out of me. Women die from lung cancer like ten times more often than men. I would love to quit smoking right now but I know if I even see a beer bottle, I’ll start again. To quit smoking I need to quit drinking, and to quit drinking I would have to stop being depressed, and to stop being depressed I would need something good to happen, or even have the hope of something good happening.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Around 7:00 tonight my landline rang. When I answered it a man said “Katherine?” and my first thought was that I must be in deep shit, because I never use Katherine except on official documents.
“Yes?”
“Paul Spooner. I don’t know if you remember me.”
I said I did not.
“I interviewed you for college.”
“Oh, right!”
It was easy to remember him because I applied to six colleges but only showed up for one interview. I had no choice but to go to that one because my mom’s uncle went there and left them a shitload of money when he died. If I hadn’t shown up, it would have created a family scandal. My mom said I was pretty much guaranteed to get in and she was right. Honestly? With my grades and scores there is no way in hell I would have gotten in without help. I won’t tell you the name of the school but trust me it is excellent.
I took a cab to the interview which was in the fanciest part of town. An area of beautiful homes, tall trees, and boring rich people. If I hadn’t gotten baked the night before the interview, I would probably remember it much better now. I know Mr. Spooner is some sort of stockbroker, with a really sweet, sensitive face, curly black hair and a muscular body. And I remember what I wore. I dressed Hepburn-sexy. Katherine not Audrey. Conservative but cute. Knee-high riding boots from Spain, a tailored shirt, a skirt with just enough leg showing and a long tweed coat. It was perfect. Except for my hat. I wore a purple ski cap because a lying bitch at school told me that purple was the school’s color. It’s not. Not even close.
I remember in Mr. Spooner’s living room there was a framed photo of him and his wife. She and I looked sort of alike. Her skin was better than mine because she’s not a teenager, but I have bigger boobs, a skinnier body and a cuter nose. I liked that there was a resemblance because it meant I was his type and that he would probably like me. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about but I remember we laughed our asses off and he was totally non-judgmental. I didn’t bullshit him at all. I told him about my drunk dad and even about my three days in the psych ward and he was interested and sympathetic.
One thing he said that day stuck in my mind because it was extremely cool. He said when he was a teenager back in the ’70s he and his friends used to smoke a ton of weed. His mother knew about it and she used to laugh at them and say “Marijuana helps adults relax after a long hard day. What the hell do you kids have to be anxious about?” Mr. Spooner said he felt pretty silly when she said that but now that he is an adult he realizes how wrong she was. It’s teenagers who need dope the most because nothing compares to the hell of being a kid. A grown-up who gets how hard it is to be a teenager!
Anyway back to my story. When Mr. Spooner called me tonight he said: “First of all, congratulations. You were one of only three students I interviewed who got in.”
“Wow.”
“Second, I saw your name recently on a list of kids who took deferments. Is that right?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I felt like I needed a year to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. That way I could get the most of college when I go.”
“Sensible.”
“My mom thinks I’m insane.”
“So what are you doing with yourself? Do you have a job?”
“I did. At a bookstore. But I had to quit. I found out the owner’s a registered sex offender.”
“You’re
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Around 7:00 tonight my landline rang. When I answered it a man said “Katherine?” and my first thought was that I must be in deep shit, because I never use Katherine except on official documents.
“Yes?”
“Paul Spooner. I don’t know if you remember me.”
I said I did not.
“I interviewed you for college.”
“Oh, right!”
It was easy to remember him because I applied to six colleges but only showed up for one interview. I had no choice but to go to that one because my mom’s uncle went there and left them a shitload of money when he died. If I hadn’t shown up, it would have created a family scandal. My mom said I was pretty much guaranteed to get in and she was right. Honestly? With my grades and scores there is no way in hell I would have gotten in without help. I won’t tell you the name of the school but trust me it is excellent.
I took a cab to the interview which was in the fanciest part of town. An area of beautiful homes, tall trees, and boring rich people. If I hadn’t gotten baked the night before the interview, I would probably remember it much better now. I know Mr. Spooner is some sort of stockbroker, with a really sweet, sensitive face, curly black hair and a muscular body. And I remember what I wore. I dressed Hepburn-sexy. Katherine not Audrey. Conservative but cute. Knee-high riding boots from Spain, a tailored shirt, a skirt with just enough leg showing and a long tweed coat. It was perfect. Except for my hat. I wore a purple ski cap because a lying bitch at school told me that purple was the school’s color. It’s not. Not even close.
I remember in Mr. Spooner’s living room there was a framed photo of him and his wife. She and I looked sort of alike. Her skin was better than mine because she’s not a teenager, but I have bigger boobs, a skinnier body and a cuter nose. I liked that there was a resemblance because it meant I was his type and that he would probably like me. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about but I remember we laughed our asses off and he was totally non-judgmental. I didn’t bullshit him at all. I told him about my drunk dad and even about my three days in the psych ward and he was interested and sympathetic.
One thing he said that day stuck in my mind because it was extremely cool. He said when he was a teenager back in the ’70s he and his friends used to smoke a ton of weed. His mother knew about it and she used to laugh at them and say “Marijuana helps adults relax after a long hard day. What the hell do you kids have to be anxious about?” Mr. Spooner said he felt pretty silly when she said that but now that he is an adult he realizes how wrong she was. It’s teenagers who need dope the most because nothing compares to the hell of being a kid. A grown-up who gets how hard it is to be a teenager!
Anyway back to my story. When Mr. Spooner called me tonight he said: “First of all, congratulations. You were one of only three students I interviewed who got in.”
“Wow.”
“Second, I saw your name recently on a list of kids who took deferments. Is that right?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I felt like I needed a year to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. That way I could get the most of college when I go.”
“Sensible.”
“My mom thinks I’m insane.”
“So what are you doing with yourself? Do you have a job?”
“I did. At a bookstore. But I had to quit. I found out the owner’s a registered sex offender.”
“You’re
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