I met a new girl at a barbecue. A very pretty blonde girl, I think. I don't know for sure. Her hair was on fire. And all she talked about was herself. "I'm on fire!" You know the type. "Jesus Christ, help me! Put me out!" Come on, can we talk about me a little bit?

Shandling’s joke pivots on a deliberate misreading of an emergency as narcissism. By describing a woman whose hair is literally on fire as “the type” who only talks about herself, he satirizes self-absorption and the social expectation that conversation should center on the speaker’s interests. The humor comes from escalating incongruity: a life-or-death situation is reframed as tedious small talk, and the comedian’s impatience (“can we talk about me”) exposes his own vanity. The bit also exemplifies Shandling’s persona—neurotic, self-referential, and willing to make himself the butt of the joke by revealing how petty ego can override empathy.