Whew, it's good to be home. I practically ran all the way to get away from that guy I plowed into. Guess that's what I get for walking and daydreaming at the same time. It's funny. I'm always getting myself into trouble for that. Well, that's just part of being a hopeless romantic and a clumsy goofball at the same time. Wonder what time Mary Lou will be home? Ooh, there's a message.
Beep! "Lucy, honey, it's Mom. Just wanted to see how you were doing. How's the romance in Seattle this time of year? Holidays are coming up, sweetheart, and we'd love to see you not have to spend them alone with us. I love you, Moonbeam." Beep! Love you too, Mama, but can we be just a little more subtle? A two-by-four to the head might be a little more delicate. Next message? Beep! "Hey, Luce, it's Mary Lou. I'm going out with some friends after work, so I won't be home until late. Don't stay out all night at the theater. Hey--check out the new greeting message I put on the machine. See ya later!" Beep! New greeting? What was wrong with the old one--Hello, you've reached the home of Lucy and Mary Lou. We're off to see the wizard right now, but if you leave your name and number we'll be sure to call you when we get back. Because, oh, Auntie Em, there's no place like home.? Worked for me. Let's see what she has put on here. Hello, you've reached the humble abode of Mary Lou and Lucy. We can't come to the phone right now but we'll get back to you as soon as we finish listening to the last chorus of "Sweet Caroline." Wait a second--"Sweet Caroline"? I hate Neil Diamond! I'll fix her. I'll get that stupid CD out of the stereo and hide it. A little immature, perhaps, but it'll get me some peace for a little while. At least until she gets home. Maybe she won't notice. Yeah, right. Miss Observant herself, and if it has anything to do with Neil Diamond, well, nobody will get any sleep tonight. Oh, Jiminy Crickets, look at the time! I've got to hurry if I'm going to the Paramount tonight. Those knuckleheads at the Coatrack Greeting Card Company kept me working too long and I, oh I just can't believe I plowed into that guy like that. And why, oh, why did he have to be someone I might have known? Well, at least I can take solace in the fact that there's over half a million people in this city, and I'll probably never see him again. (Sigh)
Ooh! There's Mary Lou. She's gonna kill me if she catches me with her Neil Diamond CD! (Slamming the bathroom door.) Why did she have to come home now? AAAARRGGHHH!!! "Forget it, sister, you're not getting Neil back. I can't believe you! You know how much I hate, loathe, and detest Neil Diamond. And today of all days, you had to do it today. That's it, I can't take it anymore." (Sound of toilet flushing.) "Did you hear that??? Your precious Neil Diamond has been given a proper sea burial. HA HA HA!!!"
I can't believe this day. All I want out of life is to get from point A to point B without too much trouble. But today--oh, coming to work naked would have been a dream compared to this nightmare. I'm an ordinary girl, pretty but not gorgeous. My parents were Ward and June Cleaver. Well, not literally, I mean, that would have been a little weird, like some bizarro parallel universe from the Twilight Zone or something. But they're so much in love, always have been, and I was their darling daughter. At least until I told them I wanted to move to Seattle and write for a living. Although I don't exactly think writing greeting cards for a living was what I had in mind. Dorothy Parker I'm not, but then even she had to start somewhere. Oh, if only I could be a critic of her caliber. To be able to write scathing reviews of world-renowned filmmakers and playwrights is my dream. But I don't want to live her life. Oh, no, not me. I don't want to be so romantically tragic. Romantic, yes, tragic, no. Romantic. That's what I am. I'm so unbelievably romantic it's almost frightening. But why am I like that? I guess it's all of the movies I've watched over the years. It's all my mother's fault--exposing me to those sentimental masterpieces in black and white. I can remember sitting cross-legged on the sofa in our three-bedroom ranch, mesmerized by the glamour and splendor of the likes of Bogart and Bergman (one of my absolute favorites), just wishing that I could find someone who would love me enough to put me on a plane. Wait a second, maybe not that much. If I had been Ilsa, I would've stayed. But then, when am I going to ever get a chance to choose between being the first lady of Czechoslovakia and staying in Casablanca with Rick Blaine? (Sigh.) Probably never. I'm too ordinary. You know, most people spend their whole lives trying to emulate some shred of normalcy, but me, well, I have to be different. Different because, I don't know, I've always had an ordinary life. Well, if you call sitting in the bathroom talking to myself ordinary. (Sigh) Guess I should get moving if I'm going to the movies tonight.(Picking up the paper) Say, what's this? Casablanca playing tonight??? Oh, wow, it's one of my favorites. But Jiminy Crickets, I need to go to the bookstore before I go. I can make it. I just need to touch up my makeup and change my clothes.