Confession Time

Confession Time is a live radio show that also streams as a podcast to expand the audience, which is now estimated at 12 million people. It is hosted by a young male with a pleasant radio voice and a professional retired therapist, a wise grandmother character. The 30-min show takes up to three calls from complete strangers who want to work through something they need to confess on air. The calls are always authentic (not selected or screened by the show producers) and anonymous. To ease the callers, their voice is modified during the call. The show uses simulated audience reaction noises administered by the host, but there’s no audience at the studio. Below is a transcript of one of its shows.

Host: We have three callers lined up today, so let’s take the first one. Are you ready?

Therapist: Ready, as I can be. Let’s do it!

Host: Caller number one, what’s your confession?

Caller (a youngish, modified female voice): Good day, my husband and I won a lottery almost two years ago.

Host: Oh, congratulations! [claps, celebratory noises: ‘Ahhh, oooh!’]

Therapist: Good for you, but what’s your confession?

Caller: We didn’t tell anyone about it.

Host: Really? Why? [disapproving noises, ‘booo!’]

Therapist: Didn’t want to share it, did you? [winks]

Caller: Not exactly, you’ll understand. We have a lot of relatives and friends with all sorts of problems and needs.

Host: Don’t we all?

Caller: When we won the lottery, we spent the whole night wrapping our minds around it, making the list of all our people and trying to decide how much we’d give each, and nearly broke our heads.

Host: That’s understandable, I’d probably do the same.

Therapist: And after all this you still decided not to tell anyone?

Caller: Yes, it was just too much! We decided no matter how much we’d give everyone they’d still think it was unfair and we were greedy. So, we decided not to tell anyone, even our parents, closest friends, and kids. We just paid our taxes and gave half of the winnings to various charities.

Therapist: How old are your kids if I may ask? Don’t give me exact ages, not to blow your cover, just the ranges.

Caller: We have three kids, ages 15 to 7.

Host: Wow, good for you! [celebratory, approving noises and claps]. Yeah, I can see why you wouldn’t want to tell them. Not much help or advice on that side, just requests and demands.

Caller: Exactly!

Host: How much money did you win?

Caller: I won’t tell you the exact amount so that people don’t figure us out, but it was several millions.

Host: Wow!

Therapist: That’s not something you can hide easily. What did you do with the money?

Caller: After we paid taxes and charities, we invested most of it. We also got a bigger house, new cars, and splurged on several family vacations, with our parents and close relatives and friends.

Host: I hope you paid for them?

Caller: Well… They all know I’m really good at finding all sorts of deals online. So, we told them I’d found really cheap vacation packages to all these beautiful places. We still asked them to contribute a little, just to make it look fair and avoid questions, you know. But it was less than one-tenth of what we actually paid per person.

Host: That checks out, right? I’d probably do the same [laughs with the laughing track].

Therapist: And no one asked you where the money was coming from, for the house and the cars, and all of this?

Caller: Both my husband and I are independent, self-employed professionals. We just told everyone we had a really good year, landed new well-paying clients.

Host, laughing: Brilliant! ‘Good year’ indeed!

Therapist: If this is all you are calling about, there’s nothing really to confess here. No one got hurt and you have the right to use the money you’d won any way you want.

Caller: Well, that’s not really all…

Host: Oh, there’s more! Juicy! Spill it, please! [drum-roll noise]

Caller: About three months ago, my best friend was in a car accident and lost her leg.

Therapist: Oh…

Host: Oh, no! [loud sigh, ouuuugh noise]

Caller: Her medical bills were sky high, so her sister set up a GoFundMe campaign.

Host: Ok, I hope you gave them what they need.

Caller: I’ve contributed 200 bucks. Am I a bad person for this?

Host: You know you are, honey [disappointed noise].

Therapist: How does that make you feel?

Caller: Obviously, bad. That’s why I’m calling. But what else could I do, not to blow my secret?

Host: So many things! [disbelieving noise] You could’ve contributed the entire amount on GoFundMe.

Caller: It’s over 75 thousand dollars! I couldn’t do that without them figuring out I have the money. They’d start asking questions…

Therapist: I always see anonymous donations on all GoFundMe campaigns.

Caller: They are anonymous to outsiders, but not to the campaign organizers. I had to run a couple of campaigns myself, I know that the organizer can see the real names tied to the donations because they must provide the credit card number and email address. Her sister is the campaign organizer, and she knows me well…

Host: I see. Still, you could have mailed your friend an anonymous check…

Caller: That’s a great idea, thank you! But I don’t even remember where my checkbook is. We do everything online these days, you know. Who even uses checks anymore, am I right? [noise of her moving around and going through some drawers].

Therapist: Dear, an anonymous check is not the one you are looking for…

Caller: Found it! It’s my husband’s, though…

Host: Does it have his name on top of it?

Caller: Yes, Craig Donaldson. But the address is for the old house, before we won the lottery… oh, shit! [hangs up abruptly]

Both Host and Therapist sit with their jaws dropped.

Host: Oops. I was just about to tell her that if the check has the name on it, it’s not anonymous.

Therapist: Oh well. Caller, if you are still listening, I’d be happy to land you as a new well-paying client, to sort out your upcoming avalanche of shame and regret...