Why I Was on TV

I did a little stand-up interview on Saturday at the local Farmers’ Market. I didn’t see it, but the Dog Walkers mentioned it this morning and said it was OK.
So on Saturday we were at the Market, and I was bending over, looking at something, and The EGE was over schmoozing with some ex-fellow-teachers. The Brand Spanking New (15 years old, tops) TV Reporter Girl asked him if she could interview him about why he shops at the Market. He said sure, but then I heard him pause and say, “But you might want to interview my wife instead; she does interviews all the time.”
And I'm thinking, “?” and then I turn around to see what’s going on with him and go, “Oh hell no.”
I say this to myself as I’m standing up and telling her, “Sure. I’ll do it,” and as I’m wondering just exactly what in the hell this girl had been thinking.
Because I’d grabbed him just before he’d started in on the lawn, which he does every Saturday and Wednesday morning, and so he was dressed in his Lawn Mowing Clothes, a truly scary-looking outfit comprised of huge old Levi’s, big heavy work boots, two old ratty t-shirts topped with a faded, ripped, black sweatshirt with “EGE” on the back in falling-apart faded purple flannel letters, a red bandana around his neck, and the most-disreputable-ever  faded, sweat-stained cap on his head. Plus he hadn’t shaved.
And he was holding a 45-pound watermelon.
That’s why I did the damn interview.