Alright, Alright, AlrightPosted: June 14, 2015
Here’s a nifty little prompt idea from The Blog Propellant: What Happens Next?
The scene for the first WHN? prompt: You walk into your house/apartment expecting nobody home, but the second you walk in the door you know something is up: There’s a jacket tossed over the back of the couch, a giant duffle bag is sitting on the coffee table, and you smell food cooking in the oven, plus there’s a couple of empty beers on the kitchen counter. None of this scene is typical for your home. Then you realize you hear the shower running. You cautiously proceed into the bathroom, and (because you have clear glass shower walls and door), you see there is a man in the shower. But not just any man. This man is a Big-time Celebrity. Mr. Celebrity (you can name whomever you choose) smiles enthusiastically when he sees you, but doesn’t say a word. What happens next? Write the next scene or finish the story (“you” can be a fictional character, or yourself, but the story should be told in 1st person).
I was shocked, to say the least. Matthew McConaughey? In my shower? Well, I thought to myself, this could get pretty darn awkward.
“Um, hi,” I said, then immediately kicked myself for idiocy. That’s all you could think to say? No wonder you stay home on Friday nights.
Sometimes I really disgust my subconscious.
Matthew, however, did not seem bothered in the slightest by my poor grasp of social niceties. He shut the water off and exited the shower without bothering to dry himself, let alone grab a towel to shield me from his nakedness. The grin never left his face.
After a brief shock of horror, I suddenly remembered his nude bongo episode from a few years back. He’s not showing off the goods, he just isn’t concerned with clothing. I smiled back at him.
“Well, hey there lady, you know I’m just in the area for a while and I thought I’d stop in and give somebody a surprise. I hope you like ribs, ’cause that’s what’s in the oven right now. You got a towel or something I can dry off with before I drip this water all over your nice carpet?”
And then he winked at me. What a guy. I got him the towel and retreated to the living room to let him dress in peace, but when I collapsed on the couch, I realized that all of his clothes were probably in that huge bag. I was going to have to face ‘the music’ again. I mentally shrugged and braced myself as I heard the door open behind me.
I was right. Still naked as a jaybird. He tried making small talk again as he rummaged through his bag for (I hoped) appropriate clothing.
“So, how long have you lived here? That’s a nice piece of art you’ve got hanging on the wall there. Say, what’s your name, anyway, darlin’?”
But I wasn’t biting. I was still in shock over the whole situation. I hoped I’d snap out of it by the time dinner was ready.
We ate in a companionable, messy silence, though. He seemed to understand that I’d lost the power of speech thanks to his unexpected appearance. If this was a regular thing for him, I’d be willing to bet that it wasn’t the first time this had happened.
As he tore meat from the last bone and then wiped the juice from his hands and face, I recovered enough to ask a question.
“Why me?” I needed this answer more than I’d needed anything I could remember.
“Well, the world works in mysterious ways, you know. Sometimes people just need a little helping hand to think about some stuff they got going on, and then they can really get their lives straight, you know? Get on with doing whatever it is that makes ’em happy. I do a little digging before I get somewhere, and your address ended up on my list this time, and when the magic eight ball says go here, I just gotta go. And here I am. I sure had a nice evening with you, though, even if we didn’t do too much talking. Thank you for your time.”
And he left, tipping his metaphorical hat.
When I got up from the table, half an hour later, I was slightly miffed as I realized that he’d left all the dishes for me.
Who would believe this story, anyway?