Don't you feel a bit topsy-turvy, your feet kicking in the breeze? (An unreal interview)

Poor fellow! Just couldn’t come to terms with reality. So he stuck his head in a garbage can, wiggled his toes in his worn out shoes and thought: "Life is rotten!"
The reporter approached him gingerly and said: "Hello! I´d like to ask you a few questions."
"I’m not in the mood."
"Right, but still...there must be lot’s of people eager to listen to you."
"Listen too me, really?"
"Why not?"
That comment about people wanting to hear what he had to say struck just the right note, pinched his ego, so to speak.
"O.K. But could we go someplace quiet? I can´t stand people staring at me."
"Sure!I know a quaint little bar right around the corner."
The journalist was a bit taken back by the man’s order: a huge beef steak, tossed salad, french fries, and a martini to get started. But he figured that any good scoop has its price tag attached.
"With my head in that rotten garbage for so long...I’m starving," the guest started out after the waiter placed the steaming steak before this hungry eyes.
"That’s quite O.K. I understand...Now, could you please tell me how you ended up upside down in a garbage can?"
"It started with Martha."
"Martha?"
"my girl."
"Oh."
"We couldn’t agree on what side of the bed to sleep on."
"I see. But you were sleeping together."
"Yes, I mean, after doing certain rituals.You know...and,well, I’m left-handed and don’t feel comfortable sleeping on the right side, and she is right-handed and doesn’t bear sleeping on the left side."
"That doesn’t seem cause enough to bury your head in a garbage can."
"Maybe not. But then there’s my boss."
"Got fired?"
"Yea."
"What else?"
"I’ve got cancer and a heart condition."
"I’m very sorry."
"And I’m bugged by the war against terrorism."
"Terrible, really."
"Who knows who is who?"
"I know what you mean."
"The good guys and the bad guys. I never seem to get it straight. The badies used to be indians, and they said the only good indian was a dead indian, and then it was the Mexicans and the Spanish, the Germans, the Japanese, the Vietnamese, the Arabs, I just can´t seem to understand because then the Spanish become good guys, like the Germans and the Japanese and..."
"You’re right there. It is a bit confusing at times. But that’s life."
"That’s life? Not for me! I want you to tell me, for example, who the good guys are in Argentina."
"In Argentina?"
"Yea. The country folk who don’t want to pay higher export duties or the government that wants to increase them to pay the foreign debt and build hospitals...You see, everything comes down to the problem of not knowing what side to be on, the right or the left."
"You mean in bed?"
"In bed and out of bed."
The man suddenly stopped talking and gobbled down the rest of his beef steak.
"Do you really love Martha?" asked the journalist.
"More than anything else in the world, except for the left side of the bed."
"Well, why don’t you go home and tell her that you want to sleep on the right side of the bed tonight."
"You think that would work?"
"At least you can give it a try."