Your limo is waiting for you at 7:15 in the morning.

After a 45 minute drive, the french-canadian limo driver will then take you to the lobby of the TV station, which is near nothing. The lobby will look like this:

The historian in you, which nobody cares about today, is pleased that a TV station would keep a remnant of the old days around in the lobby to show where they have come from:

While you wait for the nice person who will escort you to come out to the lobby, you notice that your cat is being seen by 1.2 million Canadians.

You have scanned 4,000 Infocom documents, and you have backed up Geocities, and goatse’d myspace, and made some documentaries, but today you are a famous cat owner, and you are going to go on TV. After your cat.

You are also an ugly son of a bitch, so your face will have to be repaired for television. Luckily, a very nice professional will be there to help fix you.

You will also be wired for sound. You have worked with these sorts of microphones before, so you’re smart enough to loop them up into your shirt, and not have it hanging outside like some drooling retard.

After this, you will wait in a Green Room, which is not green at all. The other people in the green room are going to go on TV too, but not because of their famous cat. That would be redundant. Although it should be noted that besides the expert on fraud investigation, the other appearing person is an expert on Lions, which are cats, but his cats are not famous, so it doesn’t really count.

People are shuffling around fast, and have been doing this a long time, so you are not attended to after the makeup. You will have to make do with your non-functioning Blackberry and the knowledge that you are going to talk to a million Canadians about your cat. You watch the show that is going on that will have you on it and you do not drink the coffee or water. Otherwise, you’d find a way to wet your pants on live Canadian television. You know you would.

There is a schedule. You see that you and your cat will be scheduled near Matt Damon. This is rather surprising. You look around for Matt Damon. The joke is on you, famous cat owner on TV, because Matt Damon’s interview was recorded several days ago and he is not here. Ha ha.

You are brought into the studio, which is rather surprisingly small, does not surprisingly have an audience, and has a series of small set-like areas throughout it. You are sat down on a chair and start chatting with the host, who you have just met. She is very pretty and as made up as you are, and just heard about twitter yesterday and your cat today. She asks about Facebook and a few things, to get an idea of what of the 10 questions on her pad of paper are best to ask you. 10 feet away, a man is chatting with another man about fraud investigation. It is your friend from the green room, although he is probably not really your friend, just like many of your twitter followers and facebook friends are not your friend. You are probably really not his friend because while he is talking about something as serious as fraud, the television show is telling people to please stick around and meet a cat and Matt Damon.

Finally, someone counts down from 4, the host smiles brilliantly at a camera that has snuck up behind you, and another camera has turned and focused itself on you. A water bottle, empty, falls off the camera swinging towards you, but nobody watching TV can hear it. In fact, nobody on TV can hear the people in the studio talking at normal volume about the next shots and whatever else they’re talking about. The sound setup is obviously very well-done and very well-directed, because none of this can be heard while you are suddenly on morning television talking to over 1.2 million people about your cat.

The interview itself looks like this: http://watch.ctv.ca/news/top-picks/meet-sockington/#clip213746

After the interview, you shake the hand of your questioner, wave hello to the other host getting ready for the next shot, and you are out the door.

The other guests are surprised you are the Sockington guy. You chat about big cats and zoos.

Then you are shown the door.  You decide to leave the makeup on because you look pretty good for the moment.

Your driver is waiting for you outside, and you are driven back to where you are staying.

All throughout Canada, a million people saw you, or heard you in the background, or ignored you. For as long as they retain your memory, you are a guy with huge sideburns who owns some sort of famous cat on something called fwitter or mitter or sinner or something. You had very large sideburns. Your cat was cute.  Matt Damon was also cute. It is 8:45.

And that’s what TV is like.

Categorised as: jason his own self

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