Daphne Garrido: AYA (Ask Yourself Anything)
asking myself all of my most burning questions
I watched an ant run away from me, right past the poison bait and toward the Honey Nut Cheerio I’d left carelessly on the kitchen floor. I was too rapt in what was to come. I couldn’t bring myself to care.
A chance, at last, to sit with the legend herself. Me.
I’ve been waiting for this bitch to let me ask her some questions.
She’s been avoiding me. Getting high and eating Thai food, then just writing all night. Turning on Baywatch and passing out instead of folding laundry.
All the while, I’ve been waiting to get her cornered. Sink my teeth into her ignorant ass. Cut into her for some of the bullshit she’s been writing. Get to the questions I really have.
(Dogs barked out the window as another fucking train went by)
It was my chance. She’d finally finished smoking that bowl.
D: I’m going to start with some softballs here.
Daphne: Fire away.
D: Ice cream. Favorite. Give it to me.
Daphne: This is super dumb. I’m a basic bitch. Chocolate.
D: Do you ever think you’ll see your mom again?
Daphne: Dude! What happened to the softballs?
D: Just answer the fucking question.
Daphne: (a minute later) I really don’t know.
(another pause)
Having compromised myself for so long on their behalf. Knowing I would have to sacrifice my own self-honor to be around them as they are. I would not be willing to see them unless they got a therapist and talked about their shit with someone other than me first. Which I don’t think they’ll do.
So, no. I don’t think I will. Easier questions please.
D: What’s your body pillow’s name?
Daphne: It doesn’t have a name. But if it did, I wouldn’t tell you.
D: What are your thoughts on the pending cultural apocalypse?
Daphne: Oh gosh… About time, I suppose. Praying for myself and my daughter and all my loved ones, no doubt. And I hope I can still watch Baywatch.
D: What’s the last state in the country you would want to find yourself in?
Daphne: Yikes. I mean like 35 of them. The worst though?
My first thought is Florida. That’s what pops right in. But for some reason my gut tells me Georgia. Mind you, I have no reason for that. Just a weird intuition telling me to avoid that place. Seems like a good place for me to get killed.
D: Favorite movie of all time?
Impossible question. Magnolia.
D: Favorite television show?
Daphne: Ok, this stupid, but hold my beer.
Series: The Leftovers
Season: True Detective S1
Episode: Black Mirror, Season 3 Episode 4 “San Junipero” <3
D: How would you kill somebody if you had to?
Daphne: Oh god, poison. Literal back-stab.
Coward-mode.
D: Who would you kill, if you had to kill somebody.
Daphne: Ryan Reynolds, no question.
D: If only one of these could exist, which would you choose? Miami Vice, Baywatch, or Battlestar Galactica.
I see what you’re doing. You’re outing me as a dork.
Miami Vice, a hundred percent. No doubt. Those vibes.
D: In your own words. Please describe what you love about professional wrestling.
Daphne: Oh, I hate you. You’re using our knowledge against me. This is literally going to be my longest answer.
So, like, if you were to travel the universe. What we have come to do with ritualized fake fighting as a kind of violent dance within stadiums full of people, with a super-campy hyper-masculine soap operas and musical entrances tacked on top — well, I think it’s a uniquely human thing — it’s too silly not to love. I mean, come on.
Plus, there are moments. Where despite the bullshit. Despite how insanely absurd it all is. You can feel yourself genuinely pulled into the fiction. It’s kind of magic. Even though the majority of the time it’s the trashy trash you’ve ever seen.
D: You’ve talked a lot about writing books. Is that actually happening?
Daphne: I wrote two chapters of a book in the middle of all my essay writing and posted them here. Chapter by chapter, publishing each one. That was a terrible way to write a novel. So, I’ve started something fresh with the aim of going the distance this time, but in private. We’ll see though. All the essays, especially those on transness feel like they might be the start of a memoir.
D: What about the poetry?
Daphne: I’m working on self-publishing a poetry book. :)
D: What’s it called?
Daphne: The name of the first poem I wrote, Ghost in the Heart of the Girl.
D: So, you seem to write about that big ole dummy dumb-face a lot. Do you have anything to say to them if they ever read this?
Daphne: Sure..
(long pause)
You can’t stop me from publishing a book of poetry about you. But you can still get the you bitch out from under your name on the dedication page.
D: Nothing else?
Daphne: No.
D: Well, this has been really wonderful. Is there anything you’d like to say to our dear readers?
Daphne: I suppose just that I’m not crazy. And that this was for fun.
D: Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Daph.
Daphne: Can we stop now?
So that was my time with the ever elusive recluse, Daphne Garrido. Perhaps one day I’ll find a time again to ask more piercing questions. For now, they will surely be hurrying off to smoke another bowl.
I will join them.
