There's a moment of truth in every writer's life that usually makes its presence known with the question....
"So, what is it you do, again?"
The writer who's just gotten her feet wet will dodge this question, and answer in the following fashion. "Umm..I..uh...I clean grills..on cars..I mean...on rappers...er...I scrub the underbelly of the star dolphin at Sea World. What I meant to say is I do anything except write. That would be...silly."
But, there comes a time when the writer must step up and finally answer THE question, without pulling a sackcloth over her head and throwing herself in front of the next available U-Haul. My time came on Saturday. I'd always imagined the moment to be proud, gratifying, and smoother than butter on waxed hamster. The only up-shot to how it actually went was... hmm... I'd scribbled down some ideas, but I'll have to get back to you.
Scene: Pregnant Paige waddle/strolls up to the bar, looking chic, relaxed, and on the hunt for a drink. *smiles at bartender*
"Hi there. I'm Rick, but you can call me Handsome and Full of Secrets." (Continues drying glass and staring into my soul..this may or may not be accurate.)
"So, what can I get you?"
"Shirley Temple, please. Heavy on the Sprite, light on the sausage curls and dance numbers."
"Can do. You having fun tonight?"
"Well, Rick, I'm pregnant, so, as soon as I find the deserts and carry the tray back to the bathroom, we'll all have an arrangement we can be happy with."
*Que moment of truth*
"So, what do you do?"
It's important to note here, that I'd just had a new humor column published early that morning. I was feeling cool, confident, and still glowing from a few positive comments I'd received. This was it. I was going to say it. Casually, I leaned an elbow on the bar and beamed my, "I'll probably be famous one day, so I'm glad you asked" smile, and said, "I'm a writer."
Rick smiled his "Oh, I'm so glad I asked, because I like introducing myself to strangers in the hope they'll one day be a famous writer and I can say I met them" smile, and replied...
"No, I said, "When are you due?"
"Oh, that's great."
*sips daintily* "This is a lovely Shirley Temple."
"If I wanted to throw myself in front of a bus, where would be a good place to do that around here? ..Never mind, you look like you don't take the bus."
"Mam, if you're looking for the mini cheese cakes, they're two tables over."
"Fabulous. That's as good a place as any to bury my dreams and aspirations."
And that's about how that went. So, if you happen to run into me and ask what it is I do exactly, don't be surprised if I launch into a very detailed explination on how to loufa a dolphin without losing an eye...
To all my Readers who write and writers who read, have you answered THE question yet? If not, have you eaten any really good tiny apple pies lately?
Until Next Time, Readers!