tales of a girl in the city

août 19, 2005

Playing One On TV

All the doors look exactly the same.

Only behind one is The View, where Star and Meredith are chatting about the latest in teeth whiteners, while Barbara Walters sits across from them and adds in her two cents.

Behind the other is Pine Valley, the version without the smoke and mirrors. It's the set I'm expected to report to, only I can't get there like this, standing as I am in a white nurse's uniform, in front of two huge, identical doors.


Both doors scream this in bright red letters.

I imagine myself making the wrong choice. In vivid technicolor, I can see myself opening The View's door by accident. Stumbling onto the set in front of their live studio audience and that smug Republican what's-her-name. Elizabeth Something-back. Or beck. I'd be barely able to focus on her face as the bright lights hit my eyes. Squint, squint. I'd hear Joy laughing, "Did someone call for a nurse?" The cameras would swing around to pin me down, a white pool of spotlight now making my snowy nurse's outfit gleam so loud it glares. It would be the kind of entrance Oprah makes. Only no one would be cheering.

"Um..... Hi, Mom," I'd say into the cameras.

To silence.

My stethoscope would fall off as they dragged me away.

Back in the hallway, still frozen by indecision, I decide it's like some strange scene from Wonderland. I'd give anything for a white rabbit to spin by. I know you're late, but so am I. Which door? Which door?

Just pick.

So, I do.