Could you imagine the conversations if inanimate objects could talk? What would the mirror in a public restroom say? Or the bed in a no-tell-motel? How about the cami bottoms of the Marine's uniform?
RS: So, thank you for agreeing to talk to me today, Mr. Pants.
MP: Please, call me Camis.
RS: Okay, Camis. How long have you been hugging the rear of the Marine?
MP: As you know, he likes to switch us out every once in a while, so I'd have to say probably for a year. He didn't get me until after his last deployment.
RS: Really, that seems like a long time. Do you enjoy your work?
MP: It's got some downsides, but over all I'm pretty content.
RS: What sort of downsides?
MP: Well, I put in long hours, and the expectations are killer. I'm expected to be durable and flexible. My pockets are constantly being crammed with books, pencils, pens, phones, and anything else my boss might need.
RS: What's the worst thing you've been expected to carry in your pockets?
MP: Keys. They're nasty suckers, always poking and digging.
RS: That does sound uncomfortable. What is your average work day like?
MP: I go to work when it's still dark outside, and sometimes it's dark when I get off too. Then when I'm at work it's go, go, go. I'm either being weighted down, sat on, or rolled around in. Do you have any idea how hard it is to breathe when your boss has you face down in the dirt while he's got his knee in some poor schmuck's back?
RS: I can't even begin to imagine, but please go on.
MP: Then there is the amount of crap he puts ON me. My friend the belt has it pretty bad too, but at least he's only got things hanging on him. He doesn't have to worry about dealing with sweat or gas or anything else. He also doesn't have to worry about getting something on him when I'm forced to sit on some questionable surface.
MP: There are times I feel like I'm choking. Especially when he straps on a side arm or wraps boot bands around me.
RS: That does sound like a lot to go through during the day.
MP: Heck, that's not the worst of it. The absolute worst is when his wife starts groping me. I mean, come on lady, I'm not that kind of guy. She's hot and all, but I don't swing that way, you know what I mean?
RS: Oh, look at the time. I'm afraid that's all the time we have.
RS: No, really. Thanks for agreeing to talk to me.
MP: I've got more to--
RS: Have a great day, Mr. Pants.
MP: Wait, where are you going? Why are you running away? Stop! Come back! I haven't even told you about the growling yet!
What inanimate object would you most like to interview? What would you ask them, and what would they say? I'd love to hear.