What would happen if anorexia detached itself from my brain and sat down with me for an interview? Of course, I would have no interest in asking the disease any questions, because I already know far too well how it would answer. Yet, what if these two entities – anorexia and I – decided to separate, and I allowed the disease to pose questions to me? In the following one-act play, I imagine the interview that anorexia conducts with me.
The Interview With Anorexia:
Me: [With rather false gushing] First off, before you start asking questions, let me just say how honored I am that you decided to detach yourself from my brain for this interview. I feel like such a – a – well, I’m just so happy you’re, you know, there [points away from self]…So, thank you…
A-No: Yes, yes, fine. I do not have much time, so stop gushing. And for the purposes of this interview, you can just call me “Rex.”
Me: “Rex”? Oh, you don’t want to sound too imperialistic, do you? That kind of self-entitlement is, shall I say, no longer politically correct? Or, at least, it’s uncool. No, no; let’s keep it more casual. I’ll call you, “A-No.”
A-No: Whatever, A-No, then. Let’s get on with it. My time is valuable.
Me: Oh, of course. You don’t mind if I have a snack while we converse, do you? [Pulls out a large piece of cake on a plate] My time is valuable as well.
A’No: Actually, I do mind.
Me: Pardon me, then.
A’No: But I mind.
Me: So you say. You also said your time is valuable, so fire away with the questions.
A’No: [Sighs] Fine. First, I want to ask, you do realize that I am lord and master of your brain?
Me: Not right now, you’re not. And while you’re over there, I seem to be thinking okay. Mostly about my snack. I apologize for any offense.
A’No: But, when I am actually attached to your synapses and brain matter, you do realize I am your lord and master?
Me: [Eating cake] Oh, did I forget to mention – this cake is chocolate with peanut butter ganache frosting? That’s what it is.
A’No: You’re not answering my question: when I am attached to your brain matter, you admit I am your lord and master?
Me: No, I can’t say that for sure. Doughnuts vie for that position daily.
A’No: A-ha! But if you keep yourself from eating the doughnuts when you really want them, it is I who controls your actions! I am your lord and master, then.
Me: [Thinks for a moment] I’ll concede the point. But what if I eat the doughnuts, hm? Or the cake?
A’No: You defy me, and I get angry.
Me: You’re always angry, if I may point that out. So, I’m really not surprised. Next question?
A’No: Why do you eat all these sweets? Why not some salad?
Me: I want sweets, for some reason. Probably because more than anything, I want comfort, and I find comfort mostly in warmth, coziness, and sweet food. Is there anything comfortable about salad, by the way? Oh, wait, I shouldn’t ask you.
A’No: But I thought you liked being uncomfortable; discomfort, hunger, weariness – all of these feed you and give you a sense of strength and purpose.
Me: Interesting idea, and very true for years, when you were attached to my brain. But now that you’re over there, I’ll say again: I prefer comfort. Constant comfort, not the counterfeit comfort of a rest after a run, or a run after a salad.
A’No: But do you not find your constant coziness slothful? Look at all those people out there, eating only superfoods, working hard, exercising for longevity, for fitness, to look pictures of health!
Me: What other people? I’m talking to you. As for sloth: [thinking] well, it’s a deadly sin. But in the English language, there’s a cute animal called “sloth,” too.
In essence, I believe human beings are responsible for creating the concept of sloth, and you know how flawed we humans are. For example, we get things mixed up, like creating conflicts of interest by equating sin with a cute animal. As for humanity itself, quite a bit of it is “cuckoo” – which is another example of conflict of interest, by the way. That said, I have no concept currently of what sloth is, or how it should apply to me.
A’No: Such arguments! Let me get to the point. Don’t you worry about getting fat?
Me: What’s that?
A’No: Fat! Your greatest fear!! Think: what is your greatest fear?
Me: Pink Floyd.
A’No: What? No, not Pink Floyd. You fear getting fat?
Me: I apologize, but I am not sure I understand. What is fat?
A’No: I better speed this interview up, because you’re forgetting the fundamentals already.
Me: Actually, I am quite comfortable like this.
A’No: Fine. I’ll ask: don’t you get bored, if you’re not always thinking of food?
Me: Yes; I do get bored. But when I’m bored, usually something comes along to fill the space. Eventually. Thoughts like, “How did an indie band like Portugal. The Man make it big with a superstar song like ‘Feel It Still’?” You know the song [singing], “Ooh, I’m a rebel just for kicks now…”
A’No: I know it, and I like it, too. I am a natural-born rebel, rebelling against all of life by conforming to it to the extent that I distort it. Oh, genius!
Me: Should I be asking the questions in this interview, if you’re that amazing? In the words of Kendrick Lamarr, I might add, “Sit down, bitch; be humble.” Sorry for swearing, but that’s a direct quote.
A’No: I sense animosity from you.
Me: Outright hatred would be more accurate at this point.
A’No: In that case, I should speed up this interview all the more. Do you not fear living without regulation, self-censure, bodyweight suppression, food abstention and food control, perpetual motion as dictated by the laws of Newton? Do you not fear living in anarchy??
Me: I do not think anarchy is a good thing, no. But guess what: starvation and perpetual motion result directly from an anarchic world. You should listen to yourself and your circular arguments sometimes. It’s quite amusing. By the way, I like Fig Newtons.
[Anorexia gets frustrated and stomps out. End of interview.]
