ME
Nope. See you tomorrow.
Well, tomorrow might not be too terrible. I’ll stop by for a couple of hours. If I hate it, I can just tell everyone I have to come back to the office to work on this horrible script because I have a deadline. I mean, I’ll definitely hate it, but maybe I’ll have fun.
I just have to get through today without Googlingher.
I just need to stop myself from thinking about her pretty face and that smile that lit up the world and the insane thick, curly blonde hair and that ass that wouldn’t quit and… Nope.
I just have to get through this season without thinking about how for a few unbelievable minutes she was almost mine.
And then I lost her.
Because it wasn’t meant to be.
And I might actually be able to do that if I can just find the fucking sticky notes I like.
4
CLEO
Gosh, I love the holidays!
How lucky am I to get paid to wear fun costumes, sing to children, and make them happy?
This is a great party in a beautiful house, and there are twenty kids who are so far proving to be a wonderful audience for my very festive family-friendly jokes. I’m killing it. What did the twenty-eight-year-old lady in a Santa’s helper elf costume do after having a super fulfilling yet financially unrewarding career in the theatre and getting dumped by her boyfriend in New York? She moved back to LA to be a children’s party entertainer andsleighed. Slayed, but like Santa’s sleigh, get it? Because I slay all day. Well, I slay at this kind of job for several hours a day, plus I have my Etsy store, do occasional voiceover work, I have my monetized YouTube channel wherein I teach children improv, do in-person improv coaching, teach yoga classes, there’s the dog-walking, and I am also a professional line-stander. You don’t want to wait in line for eight hours in front of your local Target for that hot new toy that’s going on sale when the doors open at 7:00 a.m.? Guess who you can pay to wait in line for you? Me. This line-slayer who brings her ownfolding chair, portable phone charger, snacks for everyone, and a ukulele to keep everyone in the parking lot entertained!
As I twist red-and-white two-hundred-sixty balloons into a candy cane for the little girl who requested it, I call out to the young crowd, “Hey, what do you call a reindeer who won’t stop farting while you’re talking to him?!”
“Rude-olph!” about five kids shout out.
“Ruuuude!” I shout back at them. “Just kidding—I’m the one who forgot to sayplease and thank you.”
“Hahaha!” says the only little person who thought that was hilarious. He is holding a Frosty the Snowman cookie, and when he pushes his glasses up, he gets frosting on the metal bridge. I make a mental note to tell him when I’m done performing. I don’t want to embarrass him.
I hand the candy-cane balloon to the little girl and pull a kazoo out of the pocket in my skirt. “What do Christmas carolers sing when they’re feeling gassy?!” I ask my captive audience. “‘Silent But Deadly Night!’” I hum the first four notes of “Silent Night” into my kazoo, making the final note resoundingly fart-like.
The crowd goes wild!
And that’s how I segue into a really fun Hollywood-version of “Here We Come A-Caroling” with my ukulele.
“Here we come a-caroling, beneath the palm trees green!
Here we come a wandering, in flip-flops and sunscreen!
Headshots and auditions too, and a callback just for you!
May your agent call to book you for a film in the new year!
May your agent call with good news in your ear!
Not your rear!”
I sing four more delightful verses and strum a big finish to ecstatic laughter and applause from kids and guardians alike.
It’s the bespectacled little boy with curly brown hair who is the last to stop clapping. Well, he’s not clapping so much as he’s holding a cookie in one hand and slapping his thigh with the other hand.
“Thank you so much,” I say. “I just have one more question for all of you, and then I’m going to take a little break before twisting some more balloons for you wonderful people… What did Santa major in when he studied at Oxford?”
