LINUS THE ANGRY MIME: FIVE QUESTIONS YOU SHOULD NEVER, EVER ASK A MIME!

Hey.

So I just spent this morning sweating off about a third of my body weight, busking in the hot sun. Man, August is a vile, horrible month. Even in Portland, the temperature’s too hot for people to stop and watch some quality art, you know?

Not to mention the jackhole tourists who come into the city, who probably have never seen a mime in their miserable, deep-fried twinky lives.

And, because I’m getting a little bored with removing teeth I’ve punched from my knuckles, I’m gonna take a moment and help those of you who really don’t know proper mime etiquette.

Commit this list below to memory. If you ask ANY of these questions, I am in no way responsible for what condition in which your next of kin finds you.

1)Excuse me – where’s the restroom?
I am a goddamn mime, people! I do not speak. Also, because I am performing in a public space, that does not make me a local guide to the city. Don’t ask me for recommended restaurants, or things to see while in town. I’m not going to tell you where you can remove from your colon the sodden, slippery bouquet of pig anuses and lips that was sold to you as a “hot dog.”

You should have spent that money on me, instead. I sure won’t make you shit your pants like that hot dog vendor did.

2)Can you take a picture of us/with us?
No freaking way. One, taking pictures with strangers is just not my cup of tea. Two, due to my other activities beyond my mime work, having pictures around of my appearance is not a wise career move. Three, I’m not your best friend. I don’t have the time and patience to sit there while you pose and attempt to look like you’re having the time of your life. If anyone hands me a camera, I keep it. And nobody gets it back without a black eye.

3)Why don’t you get a real job?
Oooh, this is a great one. I dare people to ask me this question. Everyone who does gets a free nap courtesy of my foot firmly pressing on their windpipe. Guess what? Being a professional mime is a real job. Being a therapist for unicorns is not. But I’m guessing what most of these blood bags mean is that they see being a mime is less worthy as being a gutless automaton, sitting in some air-conditioned hell of their own making, fake cubicle walls and watered down coffee their constant companions.

Call me crazy, but I think it’s a far better job.

4)Why should I have to pay you for something you’re doing for free?
Because nothing, nothing at all is free. If you’re just walking by, not breaking your stride while I’m working – fine. You don’t owe me a thing. But if you bring your crotch droppings to watch me perform, have them sit there for thirty minutes while they piss and shriek and throw gummy bears at me, you owe me some cash.

I’m making you forget about the horrible events that make up your existence. Believe me, that’s worth far more cash than you have, but I’ll take ten bucks or so. I’m not greedy.

5)Will you pretend you’re stuck in a box?
This is the “Free Bird” of pantomime. Just like every musician has some drunk loser asking them to play that song, I always get this request. And it’s never from the smart people who’ve been paying attention to the piece I’m performing; it’s from the seventeen year old trying to impress his girlfriend so he can convince her later to have a threesome with his cousin.

So what do I do? He’s just a kid, right? I should just shrug it off and let it alone.

Ha! No freaking way.

I walk towards him, all smiles. When I reach him, I make an exaggerated bow. Nine times out of ten, he’ll try to do the same. While he’s bowing – BAM! I hit him with an uppercut, grab him in a bear hug, and pull out a rag pre-soaked with chloroform. A couple of deep breaths with the rag, and he’s out.

And there you have it – some advice to keep you on your toes.
Any other stupid questions you can think of to ask a mime? Email me!

LINUS

- Linus is a world renowned mime artist whose productions “She Walks with Ghosts”, and “Sleep” have won him several international awards, such as the Deburau Prize He also served fifteen years in Oregon State Penitentiary for grand larceny. He trained in Paris at the International School of Corporeal Mime and will beat up anyone who has a problem with it.