I had decided that I wanted to write. Excited with this new goal fresh in my mind I sat the computer in my lap, set a hot cup of tea at my elbow, and opened a blank new word document. Unfortunately, I had no idea what I wanted to write. I was like one of those individuals who went to a tattoo parlor and told the artist that they had decided that they were ready for a tattoo but had no idea what image they wanted permanently fixed to their bodies. So instead of searching for a topic, I decided to search for inspiration in the form of a person.
Sex and the city’s Carrie was the first to pop into my head. After spending hours curling my hair I slipped into a slinky dress and lay down on my bed with my laptop and a pack of smokes. Soon the room was hazy with the fog of inspiration, but my mind was just…hazy. My arms were cramping from typing while stretched out on my belly and trying to keep the ashes from my cigarette from flicking onto the bed. Eventually I decided I’d had enough and needed to get some Carrie-style inspiration. I called up three girlfriends and asked them to meet me at a nearby club, where we would discuss sex and the downfalls of men. I had been sipping my cosmopolitan at the club’s bar for fifteen minutes when the girls showed up.
“How many of those have you had?” Sarah asked warily.
“Aren’t you supposed to be writing?” Jasmine questioned me further
I quickly explained that I had had three drinks and described my plan of action for filling my brain with fertile writing material.
“But I’m a boy…” Alex said dubiously.
I ignored this minor flaw in my plan and ordered a round of cosmos for everyone.
After a hazily remembered night of feather boas and brightly colored drinks I woke in my bed with a raging headache and no ideas. How did Carrie do it? Perhaps it was due to her fictionality.
Next I would try a real-live writer. Perhaps one I loved and admired personally (some would say on a psychotic level); David Sedaris. After gulping down some aspirin I went to find Jasmine where she was sprawled across the couch with a cat licking her forehead. I woke her up to the bright, bright world and tossed her in the car with an icepack and some coffee as we drove off to enact my second inspiration-seeking plan.
“I’m telling you this is a bad idea.” Jasmine muttered as she sucked coffee from a huge mug. Dark glasses hid her face and she huddled down into the car seat.
“It’s a brilliant idea. I can already feel my inspiration coming.” I pulled a ski mask down over my face, “Pass me the dart gun.” She sighed and passed me the weapon that was leaning next to her. The target was walking right in the desired direction, innocently passing by the car. It only took a minute, a dart shot in his general torso area and he successfully passed out with a look of surprise. I stopped the car next to him, yelling loudly in case anyone was suspicious,
“Oh no, a sudden collapse! We must get him to a hospital.” When a passerby tried to help me with my prize I batted at his arms and hissed at him. Jasmine rolled her eyes from the passenger’s seat. When we were finally victoriously driving away I glanced back so much that we almost crashed several times. Jasmine finally threatened to knock me unconscious and set Sedaris free so I kept my attention more focused. But I couldn’t help but gush a little.
“Did you see him? It’s David Sedaris! Sedaris! Have you read his books? Have you read the one with the—“ Jasmine clutched her head and groaned.
I gasped, “I hope he doesn’t hate me, do you think he will hate me?”
“Well we kidnapped him, so probably.”
“I have to make this up to him right now.”
David Sedaris regained consciousness tied to a wooden kitchen chair and smelling something delicious. His eyes widened in fear as they landed on the objects in front of him; a tea set.
“I’m so terribly sorry about all of this.” a girl’s voice murmured from his left.
He jerked away from it but couldn’t get far because of the restraints. Hands came into view to pour tea into a china cup that was set in front of him. A chocolate cupcake was then set down on a napkin next to the tea.
“I hope the food is apology enough.”
He just blinked at her and hoped he wasn’t about to be eviscerated by the psychotic who had kidnapped him and was now serving him tea in a sunny kitchen.
“Oh of course, you’ll need your hands.” She carefully untied his hands then picked up a gun from the table. He made a gurgling noise and she waved the gun at his panicked face.
“No, no it’s just a dart gun, see?” She shot a fluffy black cat that had been creeping toward his cupcake and the feline gave a startled meow before falling into dreamland.
“Meghan can I have a cupcake?” a voice called from the other room.
The girl’s eyes widened, “Excuse me.” she said politely, before she hurried off into the next room.
He picked up his cupcake and sniffed it, wondering if it was safe to take a bite.
“Use the code names.” He heard the girl, Meghan, hiss from the other room.
“I’m sorry, Megatron, can I have a cupcake?”
“Sure. Maybe I should have made something else; he doesn’t seem to like them.”
“Will you please wrap this up? We have to meet our friends this afternoon and—“
“I know, I know.”
The two girls belonging to the voices came in with a plate of cupcakes and pained smiles.
“We’re so sorry for the terrible misunderstanding.” They started to untie the bindings that held him to the chair.
“That’s it?” he asked, suspicious.
“Yes,” They led him to the door, pressing cupcakes into his hands ‘for the road’.
“Oh, one more thing.” One of the girls ran back into the house and came back with one of his books in her hands, “Would you sign this?”
“Sure.” He rapidly penned some script, “Can I please go now?”
“Yes. It was nice meeting you. Bye.” The door shut behind him and he left as quickly as he could.
“What does the signature say?” Jasmine asked.
“To my most psychotic fan, may we never meet again. Thanks for the cupcakes.” Meghan stared dreamily off into the distance. “I think I feel some inspiration coming.”
“Good,” Jasmine said, “don’t ever lose it because I’d hate to see what else we’d have to do to inspire you again.”
-M
Sex and the city’s Carrie was the first to pop into my head. After spending hours curling my hair I slipped into a slinky dress and lay down on my bed with my laptop and a pack of smokes. Soon the room was hazy with the fog of inspiration, but my mind was just…hazy. My arms were cramping from typing while stretched out on my belly and trying to keep the ashes from my cigarette from flicking onto the bed. Eventually I decided I’d had enough and needed to get some Carrie-style inspiration. I called up three girlfriends and asked them to meet me at a nearby club, where we would discuss sex and the downfalls of men. I had been sipping my cosmopolitan at the club’s bar for fifteen minutes when the girls showed up.
“How many of those have you had?” Sarah asked warily.
“Aren’t you supposed to be writing?” Jasmine questioned me further
I quickly explained that I had had three drinks and described my plan of action for filling my brain with fertile writing material.
“But I’m a boy…” Alex said dubiously.
I ignored this minor flaw in my plan and ordered a round of cosmos for everyone.
After a hazily remembered night of feather boas and brightly colored drinks I woke in my bed with a raging headache and no ideas. How did Carrie do it? Perhaps it was due to her fictionality.
Next I would try a real-live writer. Perhaps one I loved and admired personally (some would say on a psychotic level); David Sedaris. After gulping down some aspirin I went to find Jasmine where she was sprawled across the couch with a cat licking her forehead. I woke her up to the bright, bright world and tossed her in the car with an icepack and some coffee as we drove off to enact my second inspiration-seeking plan.
“I’m telling you this is a bad idea.” Jasmine muttered as she sucked coffee from a huge mug. Dark glasses hid her face and she huddled down into the car seat.
“It’s a brilliant idea. I can already feel my inspiration coming.” I pulled a ski mask down over my face, “Pass me the dart gun.” She sighed and passed me the weapon that was leaning next to her. The target was walking right in the desired direction, innocently passing by the car. It only took a minute, a dart shot in his general torso area and he successfully passed out with a look of surprise. I stopped the car next to him, yelling loudly in case anyone was suspicious,
“Oh no, a sudden collapse! We must get him to a hospital.” When a passerby tried to help me with my prize I batted at his arms and hissed at him. Jasmine rolled her eyes from the passenger’s seat. When we were finally victoriously driving away I glanced back so much that we almost crashed several times. Jasmine finally threatened to knock me unconscious and set Sedaris free so I kept my attention more focused. But I couldn’t help but gush a little.
“Did you see him? It’s David Sedaris! Sedaris! Have you read his books? Have you read the one with the—“ Jasmine clutched her head and groaned.
I gasped, “I hope he doesn’t hate me, do you think he will hate me?”
“Well we kidnapped him, so probably.”
“I have to make this up to him right now.”
David Sedaris regained consciousness tied to a wooden kitchen chair and smelling something delicious. His eyes widened in fear as they landed on the objects in front of him; a tea set.
“I’m so terribly sorry about all of this.” a girl’s voice murmured from his left.
He jerked away from it but couldn’t get far because of the restraints. Hands came into view to pour tea into a china cup that was set in front of him. A chocolate cupcake was then set down on a napkin next to the tea.
“I hope the food is apology enough.”
He just blinked at her and hoped he wasn’t about to be eviscerated by the psychotic who had kidnapped him and was now serving him tea in a sunny kitchen.
“Oh of course, you’ll need your hands.” She carefully untied his hands then picked up a gun from the table. He made a gurgling noise and she waved the gun at his panicked face.
“No, no it’s just a dart gun, see?” She shot a fluffy black cat that had been creeping toward his cupcake and the feline gave a startled meow before falling into dreamland.
“Meghan can I have a cupcake?” a voice called from the other room.
The girl’s eyes widened, “Excuse me.” she said politely, before she hurried off into the next room.
He picked up his cupcake and sniffed it, wondering if it was safe to take a bite.
“Use the code names.” He heard the girl, Meghan, hiss from the other room.
“I’m sorry, Megatron, can I have a cupcake?”
“Sure. Maybe I should have made something else; he doesn’t seem to like them.”
“Will you please wrap this up? We have to meet our friends this afternoon and—“
“I know, I know.”
The two girls belonging to the voices came in with a plate of cupcakes and pained smiles.
“We’re so sorry for the terrible misunderstanding.” They started to untie the bindings that held him to the chair.
“That’s it?” he asked, suspicious.
“Yes,” They led him to the door, pressing cupcakes into his hands ‘for the road’.
“Oh, one more thing.” One of the girls ran back into the house and came back with one of his books in her hands, “Would you sign this?”
“Sure.” He rapidly penned some script, “Can I please go now?”
“Yes. It was nice meeting you. Bye.” The door shut behind him and he left as quickly as he could.
“What does the signature say?” Jasmine asked.
“To my most psychotic fan, may we never meet again. Thanks for the cupcakes.” Meghan stared dreamily off into the distance. “I think I feel some inspiration coming.”
“Good,” Jasmine said, “don’t ever lose it because I’d hate to see what else we’d have to do to inspire you again.”
-M
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