Quinn Marcus is an uninhibited, hilarious senior at Emerson College whose comedic shorts led her to become the host of the university’s popular late night talk show. Now, we’re giving Quinn a camera and stepping back to watch, as she brings her unique talents and interviewing skills to mtvU. Quinnterviews premieres on mtvU and mtvU.com September the 18th.

Here is an introduction to Quinn in the form of a blog post she wrote about entitled, well-to-do Central Park bicycle women and their effect on a developing ego.

Women With Bikes in Central Park Will Never Let You Get a Big Head

It was my first Quinnterviews-related photoshoot. We were taking pictures for the show’s graphics in Central Park, and I was very excited. I had gotten my hair cut the day before and my blazer matched my pants, which matched my shoes. I wasn’t messing around.

We had shots of me doing “The Thinker”, shots of me feigning laughing, and shots of me doing some weird pose that my producer kept referring to as “the Russian Dance,” in which I had to squat and kick over and over again for the camera. I’ve never been to Russia, but I can assure you no one is doing “the Russian Dance” there. All in all, I was feeling great.

And then a woman rode her bike over to us and ruined everything.

We were taking photos on some steps and a beautiful, blonde woman walked over and asked us to watch her bike, but walked away before we could even answer. I’ve never known anyone to walk up to a camera crew mid session and ask them to do them a favor. But maybe I’ve never known anyone with a really expensive bike. We were clearly busy doing something, but we helped the woman anyway- maybe because we are all able to multitask, or maybe just because she didn’t give us a choice. But probably because she was a beautiful, blonde woman.

As I posed for a picture, biting my microphone (hilarious, I know), I suddenly had this looming responsibility of not letting this stranger’s bike get stolen. I tried not to think about the bike, but I couldn’t help feel protective over it. My eyes kept darting over to the bike leaning on a bench. I had enough to worry about, what with making sure the “Russian Dance” photo was not the one chosen, let alone being the barrier between this bike and a criminal. I started to feel like this bike I had never met before was my bike. And if it was stolen, it would be me who lost a bike. I started to get angry at the people walking by because I knew they were thinking about stealing the bike. My bike. Finally, the woman came back from presumably solving a world crisis. I wished she was buying another bike because I had become very attached to this one.

She thanked us for watching her bike, then told us, “If you want to see something really cool, Yoko Ono is doing a photo shoot over there.”

So this woman definitely knew what a photo shoot looks like, but she wasn’t going to let me forget that what ever I was doing would never compare to what Yoko Ono is doing. I’m glad the woman was there to bring me back down to Earth. She was right. I was starting to feel too cool. So cool in fact that I had thoughts of making stranger’s bikes my own.

That’s the day I was slapped in the face with the fact that I’m no Yoko Ono and I don’t own an expensive bike.