Honey on Your Mind by Maria Murnane Read Free Book Online Page B

to New York, I thought it would be great to kick off my first segment by approaching some real New Yorkers and asking them what’s on their minds. Want to join me?” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder, and the camera followed me.
    I walked about ten feet down the street, then proceeded to accost total strangers and ask them, literally, what was on their minds. I began each interview with this question:
    “Hi there, I’m Waverly Bryson from the Love, Wendy show with a new segment called Honey on Your Mind . Would you mind if I asked what’s on your mind right now?”
    A fun montage of the responses followed, set to a background of Willie Nelson singing “You Were Always on My Mind” as I made my way from the crowded street through the park.
    Guy in suit in line for coffee: “I’m wondering why the bleep you’re in my face with that bleeping microphone. Scat.”
    Woman in dress standing in line behind first guy: “I’m thinking, why are all the good men married? And why are the people who work at Starbucks always so freaking happy?”
    Skinny guy sitting on grass : “The bleep ing condom broke last night. BLEEP !”
    Two girls lying on the grass: “We’re thinking about how much we’re loving this weather. We’re supposed to be in class right now.”
    Another guy in suit on park bench: “Why hasn’t she replied to my text?”
    Guy in jeans sitting on bench: “What’s on my mind? Bacon, dude, always bacon.”
    Guy selling roses: “Just ten dollars a dozen, special just for you, lady. You interested?”
    Obese tourists on street: “Breakfast! We just love the food in New York. Do you know where TGIFriday’s is? We heard there’s a huge one around here.”
    Disheveled woman exiting subway: “You want to know what’s on my mind, Whitney or Wanda or whatever you said your name is? Why do idiots shove themselves into the subway car while everyone else is still trying to get off? That’s what’s on my mind. What the freaking hell is wrong with people? ” She stormed off.
    By the time I finished the last interview, the background music had changed to the classic “Super Freak” by Rick James, which got louder as the segment ended. The entire studio audience was laughing, and some of them were even dancing in their seats. The camera panned back to me, and I signed off with the following:
    “So there you have it, my new friends, a taste of what’s on the minds of some real New Yorkers , who are apparently unconcerned with the ramifications of sharing their most intimate thoughts with a national TV audience. I’m already looking forward to our next segment as I continue to get to know this great city. Wendy, back to you!” I smiled and pointed at the camera.
    The screen went black, and the crowd erupted in applause. I could feel my cheeks go bright red, but I felt happy and incredibly relieved. That was actually pretty good.
    Wendy smiled and put her hand on my knee. “Waverly, that was just fabulous.” Then she looked out at the audience. “Am I right? Isn’t she faaabulous ?”
    “Yes!” shouted the audience.
    “Should we bring her back for more?”
    “Yes!” they shouted again.
    Wendy turned back to me and beamed. “Well, my love, it looks like I’m not your only fan. I can’t wait to see what you do for us next.”
    “Thanks, Wendy.” I couldn’t help but smile back at her. She seemed so sincere, so genuine.
    Did she really like it?
    Does she really like me?
    Maybe I was wrong about her.
    We broke for a commercial, and I glanced down for just a moment to take off my microphone.
    When I looked back up, Wendy was gone.
    • • •
    “Well?” What did you think? Be honest.” I could feel myself make an anxious face into the phone.
    “It was awesome.”
    “Really?”
    “ Really . Well done, dearie.”
    I felt my whole body relax as I walked toward my apartment. “Thanks, Andie. You have no idea how happy you just made me.”
    “It was great. You made your hometown