Sunday, January 29, 2012

What's Yo' Fantasy?

I recline slowly into a velvet upholstered chaise lounge that coordinates with the bohemian theme of my dressing room. I am surrounded by bouquets of yellow roses and orange lilies. The bubbles from the most rare champagne in the midwest gently make their way to the top of my fluted glass, as I ponder sipping. Miles Davis plays softly in the background and I brush coral rouge across my cheekbones as I begin mentally preparing myself for the night which awaits me.

Abruptly, 3 consecutive knocks bark at my door.

"We need you out here pronto!", an unfamiliar, yet still quite routine voice beckons.


I zip up my thigh-high black leather stiletto boots and slide a final coat of sheen across my lips, pout, and blow a kiss into my mirror.

As I make my way through the corridors which are packed full of foreign faces, a man tugs at, brushes through, then finally pins up the extensions which make my hair seem never ending. "Go get 'em sweet thang!", he shouts as I continue on my way. A random young boy, who has 4 large spools of electrical cords wrapped up both arms, holds out his fist for a universal good-luck "knucks" pound. I still feel that I need good luck, although I have most of this down to a fine science.

"Huddle up!", a female calls out, with a voice resembling a combination of Melissa Etheridge and a 60 year old suffering from severe emphysema.

The people who have become my greatest of friends overwhelm me with their arms linked around one another, a cyclical formation with me at the center of attention. I rattle off a few song lyrics from greats like Dylan, Joel, and Springsteen... ones that I easily repeat because their meanings are embroidered onto my mind. A few members bounce up and down, even throw imaginary punches into the air. A woman wearing what appears to be a be-dazzled bra and a shredded pair of Levi's carries a platter with 8 tequila shots to my crew and myself.

"Let's go!" I shout. 
We cheers, take the shot straight, and sprint onstage.

This is my fantasy. 

I am Nicole, Goober Daisy.

Writer by day, rock star extraordinaire by night.

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