The Sold Out Show
Opening scene: Camera closes in on her right dimple that you immediately latch onto like a fish to a hook. You notice her nervously alternating between pushing her cuticles back on her red nails and taking the tiniest sip you have ever seen of her vodka soda.
Scene II: You find yourself on her sinking couch, flames reflecting on her ivory skin as she nervously pushes her cuticles back on her now teal manicure, waiting for you to ask. She says yes, but you don't believe it, so you ask again.
Scene III: Your happiness becomes her finding her way through the emerald mazes of Vizcaya, turning around every two steps to grin at you, her right dimple a little deeper than usual in the steaming July sun. She is the only person you will bare the insatiable heat of South Florida for, loving the way she lights up when she sees the murals in Wynwood.
<<You hate the way she bites her bottom lip and nervously pushes the cuticles back on her onyx manicure as she tells you she is moving back to NYC.>>
Scene IV: You rush home from a late Friday night at work to see her on the screen of your Mac in her black rimmed glasses with her platinum hair a mess. Checking mail becomes a habit as different scenes from NYC arrive in your mailbox with her lopsided heart and an 'M' in hot pink ink.
<<You hate the way she bites her bottom lip and nervously pushes the cuticles back on her white manicure as she tells you that she doesn't think long distance is working.>>
Ending Scene: You scream at your phone for her to call. You would do anything to hear her high-pitched giggles again. You take her sobbing call at three AM on a random late night.
And now, you want to take me to see this show, and do everything in your power to recreate the scenes that made this story so ineffably serene. But every time you get close to one of the scenes, you realize that this show is sold out. I want to see a different one.