It Takes Years For a Monkey to Learn How to Empty an Ashtray

David Sedaris discusses slave monkeys, public defecation, and how to avoid being eaten by your pets after you die.

David Sedaris knows more than any author should about his readers. He knows, for instance, that more of his German fans have seen their parents naked than fans of any other nationality. He knows that women with cirrhosis tend to be embarrassed by their conditions, but boys with tiny, shriveled limbs can be easily coaxed into medical discussions. He’s also learned that some people will suspect him of being a racist just because he likes stories about monkeys. He has the angry letter to prove it.

Sedaris hasn’t come across this information easily. It’s taken years of touring, meeting his devoted followers in bookstores across the country. It’s all part of his quest to amass a staggering collection of factoids and stories and random minutiae on every conceivable subject. One might suspect an ulterior motive. He has, after all, made a career of writing stranger-than-fiction accounts of his life. Over the course of eleven books, from 1994’s Barrel Fever to 2022’s Happy-Go-Lucky, he’s told stories of family-friendly hookers, midget jazz teachers, and an older brother named Rooster with a penchant for the word “motherfucker.” But Sedaris insists that he’s not looking to his readers for grist for the mill. He’s just… curious.

I spoke with Sedaris by phone while he was vacationing in Normandy, France.

Eric Spitznagel: Do you enjoy meeting your fans, or would you prefer they keep their distance?

David Sedaris: Oh, I love it. That’s the best part. I always ask people questions. I collect stories. On my last book tour, I was collecting stories about people defecating in public places.

ES: I’m sorry?

DS: There are dozens of them. I’ve met people who work at the Gap, and they tell me about customers who go into the dressing room and defecate on the floor. That kind of thing happens in all kinds of stores. At Target, they crawl into those circular clothing racks and defecate. They defecate in the stock room of shoe stores. It’s amazing how many public places people use to defecate.

ES: Do you think they’re more likely to talk to you about public defecation because of who you are?

DS: Oh, sure. If you go into Banana Republic and ask the cashier, “Do people ever defecate in your dressing room?” they’re not going to tell you. They might be afraid that you’re a reporter or that you’re planning to defecate in their dressing room. But get those people in another situation, in another environment, and they’re happy to talk about it.

ES: Do you have a favorite defecation story?

DS: Oh god, there are so many good ones. A librarian told me that she’d built a castle out of cardboard to decorate the children’s section of her library and somebody defecated on the drawbridge.

ES: Do you ever collect stories that aren’t scatological?

DS: Oh, sure. On one tour, I was collecting stories about pet monkeys. You’d be surprised how many people have stories about monkeys. The problem is, most monkey stories end tragically. There was a monkey that was owned by an alcoholic grandfather who took it to a swamp and threw it out of the car. There was a monkey who lived on Pepsi and candy bars and died of dehydration in someone’s yard. There’s the monkey that ate a plastic mushroom and died.

ES: Do you just collect these stories as a hobby, or are you hoping to use them in your writing?

DS: I’d love to, but I’m not sure how I could make it work. I might be able to do something with the grandfather one, but it’d probably have to be fiction. Unfortunately, it wasn’t my grandfather. I would have given anything to have an alcoholic grandfather who drove a monkey to a swamp and kicked it out of the car. I’m so jealous.