Hey you. Yeah, you. Do you remember me? I hope you do. I hope my face is burned into your memory, and every attempt at sleep is thwarted by the sounds of me obnoxiously screaming into a microphone on the streets of Times Square while you’re just trying to peacefully enjoy some music. Is it coming back to you now? I bet it is. I interrupted your favorite TRL music video with a fan request 25 years ago, and you know what? I’d fucking do it again if given the chance.
I revel in the thought of you eagerly rushing home from school to watch the video for “Ana’s Song (Open Fire)” by Silverchair (a rare gem in the stream of filth paraded by Carson Daly) only to have my countenance fill the bottom corner of your screen at the start of the first chorus. I told you my name was Julie, that I was from Michigan, and that I wanted to shout out my best friend Kristin back home. All of these things were true, but what I didn’t say was this: my sole mission with that fan request was to ruin your day. You had been waiting all afternoon to hear that song, and your spirits were crushed the second I appeared.
The fact that this occurred before high-speed internet and music streaming services made any given song readily available makes the despair I caused you even sweeter. That was certainly your one chance to hear that song that particular day, and maybe even that whole week. And to make the situation worse for you (and therefore better for me,) it was a school night, and the option to stay up all night when MTV played music videos without disruption simply wasn’t there. You were shit out of luck, buddy.
You fucking sicken me. How dare you even assume to be entitled to the luxury of watching that video undisturbed. You think you deserved the flicker of joy and satisfaction that song would have given you, you piece of shit? News flash: any happiness you think you’re entitled to belongs to me. And let me tell you something. I was fucking overjoyed in the knowledge that, not only was I occupying the television sets of millions of music fans, but I was the sole obstacle in the way of you getting what you wanted.
You may be asking yourself why I, Julie from Michigan, did this to you. After all, we’d never met, so there’s nothing you could’ve done to warrant such malice. Well, the reason for me is simple. I did it because I could. You were completely powerless against me. I had the opportunity to drink in your misery, and I fucking took it. And you’d better count your blessings that such an opportunity doesn’t exist today, because I would seize it without one fucking second of hesitation.