“There are the two David Sedarises in this book. The first one is this bizarre individual who knows he’s bizarre and ridiculous. The one who lets a stranger excise a tumor from him. The one who informs the world of the really great, foul things you might yell at someone else in traffic in another country. The one who delights in awful Japanese fashion with his sisters. I also think this is the David who writes some honest, touching things about himself and the people he loves (“Rooster At The Hitchin’ Post” being an all-time favorite).
Then there’s the other David Sedaris, who pops up nearer the end of the book. This David Sedaris is out of his own world and in ours. I don’t dislike this David Sedaris, but I find the other one a lot more interesting. A lot of folks write about their existential horror after the election, but damn few write about telling a story at the dinner table that involves a young woman in cutoff jean shorts shitting her pants while her feet are up on the dashboard of her date’s car. “