Writer's Block (541 hits)
Category: RomanceRating: 0.67 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by moneyshot (View user info) at 2005-11-21 22:26:20 EST
Introduction
It had been awhile since he sat down to collect his thoughts. The computer monitor dimly lit his small studio apartment early that morning or late that evening depending on how you looked at it. He sat silently while finishing a cigarette and took another long draw which he exhaled through his teeth. The screen blankly stared back at him. After his last drag, he tossed it out the window and prepared himself for a long sleepless night. So much had happened in the last few months. Things he had only just begun to write about. He decided to come back to it all. Thoughts began to circle in his head as he re-read what had been written by what seemed like a different person. A person who barely existed in his memory. And then... His fingers gently pressed the keys of his keyboard again. With that, words poured out into sentences and he began to relive these awkward conversations and compromising positions which brought him back here... to the middle of the story. He often told his stories through fictional characters he would make up. He didn't want to offend anyone he would write about so he would change a name here or maybe a detail there. It was easier to tell the truth that way. He glanced over at his bed which was cold and neglected for the third night in a row as he preferred to sleep on the floor lately. He knew it would be another night he would slump over and fall out of his chair. He had a story to finish.
Writer's Block
I'm not the handsomest boy ever. Despite, what my mother told me when she dropped me off at the prom my senior year. That's a joke. Well, it's actually not that far off. I didn't have a date to the prom but I did drive myself... though I was home at midnight anyway. Wow. Sometimes, the truth is sadder than my habit of telling self-deprecating jokes. Anyway, I definitely wasn't what kids considered "popular." I tried my hardest to blend in. I played by the rules and kept to myself mostly. I was just there. Yeah, I know it sounds like a miserable existence but it's actually not that bad. I left them alone and they left me alone. Besides, you can learn alot by just watching people. Have you ever done that? I had this journal where I would just write about random things I saw people do or heard people say. Some of my best work comes from that journal. Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Mike Rogers. I am a writer.
When I was in college I used to frequent this one laundry mat. I never did laundry there. I had a washer and dryer at my apartment complex. I just hung out there and talked to the single girls doing laundry. How did I know they were single? I just looked in the dryers they were using and if I noticed a man's clothes I stayed away. I know. It's not foolproof. Only if they lived with the guy or were doing his laundry would I notice the clothes but you'd be suprised at how often it did work. I met some fascinating women there. There was Pam, the environmentalist tree-hugging hippie. Tanya, the aspiring thespian. Jocelyn, the passionate political pundit. Well, you get the idea. It was a refreshing change of pace from high school where the women there minus well have thought I had the plague. I am, by no means bragging. All in all, I think my sucess rate with women is still below average. I'm pretty awkward around them to this day. Even when I clumsily manage to talk my way into their pants, I still feel like I'm sleeping with yet another woman I didn't deserve to sleep with. Call it insecurity. I call it life. I can almost trace all this awkwardness back to one definitive moment.
There I was fresh faced and naive to the ways of the world. A young school boy hopelessly wandering around the playground at recess kicking rocks. And then she came along. Dorothy Miller. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The bluest eyes you could get lost in and the warmest smile that could melt your heart in seconds. I could barely speak when she approached me and asked me if I wanted to swing. Before I could even say anything, she grabbed my hand and led me to the swingset. There, we swung next to eachother and I smiled the smile of a man who had just finished winning the gold in the Olympics. A man who had conquered Mt. Everest. A man who set foot on the moon. When we heard the bell ring we left our swings and she ran over to me and quickly kissed me on the cheek. It was official. I was in love. Read on you cynics.
The next day I sat impatiently in class dreaming of some sweet hand in hand action with Dorothy until I could barely contain myself. Then the moment came. The recess bell sounded and I was first out of my chair to the playground. My eyes darted around for her but she was no where to be found. "Where could my sweet little angel be? I hope she isn't sick. Maybe she's at home eating soup. Oh my God. What if she was in an accident?"
Where was she you ask? I'll tell you where she was. Swinging on a different swingset with another lad. I pleaded with her to come to her senses but she told me that her new boy toy "Todd" had a pool at his house. And he was a better swinger. It was no use. I walked away defeated for the first time but certainly not the last. Through relationship and relationship I grew more and more awkward and unsure of myself. "Could this person be the one who understands and loves me?" I asked myself this question every time I met someone new and the answer was almost always a great big "Not a chance in hell, Mike." I had almost given up until last night someone so amazing simple words do not do her justice walked in the room. I met the love of my life. I met Susan Britt. A girl that I never feel nervous around. A girl that compliments me. It's hard to write about someone like her. I don't even know where to start. All I know is that I'm happier than I've ever been. I can't stop thinking about her long enough to get a few sentences out. I'm lucky I got this far. I just want to be around her. Not sitting here typing away. I'm going to call her. I'll finish this later.
A Wet Paper Bag
Much later...
Susan made every other girl pale in comparison just by standing next to them. Her personality could light up any room she was in and she was gorgeous to boot. Strong. Talented. Beautiful. Susan. How can I even begin to tell our story? Just thinking about it hurts. There's this overwhelming feeling of guilt I can't get rid of. Like when I flash back to those last few conversations we had. I don't know what's wrong with me. How I tried to blame my mistakes on my "trust issues" and how I was trying to "self-sabotage" the relationship. I realize now how childish and manipulative it was to try and turn it around. Here I was, the one who messed up, and I was trying to get you to feel sorry for me. I don't know what to say anymore. At least, this will make one hell of a story, right?
Our short but amazing affair lasted only a few months. It all began with a simple gesture of kindness. I was on my way to my friend Eric's birthday party in San Francisco. I was roommates with Eric in college and hadn't seen him in awhile. I drove up from Sacto that night and took a Bart into the city. I'll admit. I was lost and trying to read directions off of a napkin that I had jotted down quickly. After several attempts at trying to call Eric and him not picking up, I began to get frustrated. The noise of the party must've drowned out the phone ringing. I wandered into a coffee shop on Fell St. to ask the locals for help. There she was behind the counter. The first time I laid eyes on her was intense. I could barely get the words out. Somehow I did.
She told me that I was way off and all the while she had this smile on her face I could only describe as sneaky looking. That's when she offered to take me there. She would be getting off in a few minutes and said that I looked like "a pretty nice guy." Well, how could I say no to that? A little later we were off and she apologized for taking a little longer than usual. She locked the door of the shop and said "Follow me and try to keep up." We jumped on a bus and then from that straight onto a Bart. We made chit-chat the whole way discussing how toys were better when we were growing up than the one's kids's had today and the artistic merit of really bad b-movies. Movies so bad they transcend mere suckage and become art. Fifteen minutes later we arrived.
She wrapped her arm around mine while my hands were in my pockets and we walked into the party. I have never seen so many people fit into such a small space. As soon as we walked in I heard a group of people yell out "Susan!" There were collective hugs and high-fives all around. I almost thought she had taken me to the wrong party until I saw Eric. "Do I know Susan?" he said with a sarcastic look on his face. Apparently, everyone knew Susan except for me. Quite the popular gal. Later she explained she was already on her way here when I walked in. That's why she agreed to go with me. I asked "If I wasn't going to Eric's party would you have gone with me anyway?"
"Maybe." she replied. "You are pretty cute. And you do look like a pretty nice guy."
"Do you always escort around handsome young men in the city?"
"Well, just you so far but the idea's growing on me. Do you always let pretty girls escort you around the city?"
"You're definitely the first. Pretty girl. I mean, there's other reasons I asked you, you know. Like, it's nice having you there in case I run into trouble. You know... gang fight or a mugging or having to disrupt a terrorist plot. I can't fight my way out of a wet paper bag and you look pretty street savy. Maybe we could arrange it so you could be my personal bodyguard."
"I like that idea."
And so it began. I made frequent trips back and forth as did she and eventually we decided we should get a place together in Frisco. We were in love. I could imagine it would probably be sickening to see us on the public transit being flirty or God forbid, using baby talk. I'm sure this probably happened sometime. But I didn't mind. You do crazy things for love. Crazy things.
Happy Ending's Only Happen In Movies
We had been living together for a little while and things were starting to get to a state of normalcy. This can mean death for most relationships but we were different. At least, I thought we were. She had been picking up more hours at the coffee shop and I had been trying to concentrate on writing more though nothing ever came. I wandered the streets looking for new inspiration and found none. Instead I found Amy. By the time everything came out in the open the story had written itself. All I needed was to go back and finish what I had already started.
"Happy ending's only happen in movies." That's something Susan used to say when we would lie around and watch romantic comedies together. It's almost like she was foretelling the future. "But what about books?" I'd say. "Books are different. They change the end of books to make movies." Is it possible to change the end of this?
Every good author knows a great story has a beginning, middle and end. This story has a beginning. It has a middle. And it has an end. I just want to make sure the ending is right.
Conclusion
And with that he grabbed the mouse and highlighted "save" on the computer screen and clicked the left button. He walked over to phone and began to dial her number. Maybe she would answer and maybe not. All he knew was that he had to try.
User Reviews
Submitted by Dizzle (user info) at 2005-11-22 09:33:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Ya i read it. One bit of advice, stay away from all the sterotypes, it makes for the same ol' readings...
Submitted by spedmonkey (user info) at 2005-11-22 03:47:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I prefer this edition:
http://www.ubersite.com/m/29420
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2005-11-21 23:27:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i dont see any breast, just a black laced bra. and some skin.
nope, dont see any mammary glands.
har har peener
Submitted by moneyshotforyou (user info) at 2005-11-21 23:11:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
A little pussy and a little breast go a long way.
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2005-11-21 22:37:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i demand a better camwhore.
Submitted by full_frontal (user info) at 2005-11-21 22:32:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
WELL, nice pussy at least. i spy a breast in there as well so...
Submitted by leilani (user info) at 2005-11-21 22:31:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by full_frontal (user info) at 2005-11-21 22:30:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
WTF I'M NOT READING ALL THAT