I Should’ve Manscaped

BEFORE CLOSING MY EYES

And Falling Into La La Land …

Right To It Then:

“I Had A Dream Three Nights Ago.  It Wasn’t Weird.”

Here It Is …

 

TEE CEE & MEE MEE

Thomas Cruise Mapother IV …

Yeah, That Guy.

The Dream Begins Circa Late 80s.

Tee Cee – What I Call Mr. Cruise – Because We’re Besties-And-Whatnot In This Make Disbelieve Schtick Of A Silly Surreal Yarn … Is That A Sufficient Disclaimer?

 

THERE’S A SITUATION

We’re Both Dressed In The Same Duds … 

Black Shirt – Two Top Buttons Undone – And Black Jeans.

“I’ll Admit Tee Cee Wore It Better … Though The Hem On His Pants Seemed To Be Off By An 1/32th Of An Inch.”

… I Know I Shouldn’t Have Mentioned It … What?

 

THEN A DILEMMA

Tee Cee’s Gone And Lost His Wallet …   

Not A First.

“Thinks He Might’ve Left It At The Local Starbucks.”

To Boot We’re In Charlottesville, Virginia.

 

FUN FACT CONFESSION

It’s On Me … 

I Probably Could’ve Been More Empathetic.

“Hey, It’s Not As If He Was About To Be A Victim Of Identity Fraud, Right?”  

Which, I Mention And Instantly Regret.  Because, Well, Just No.  And, I’m Left Feeling Like A Schmuck Especially Since He’d Treated Me To A Frappucinno.

 

34 YEARS LATER … IN THE DREAM

I Was Still Holding A Grudge … 

About Not Being Cast As Goose In Top Gun.

“There, I Said It.”

… Not Cool.

 

TWO HANGRY DUDES

We’re Sitting On The Steps Of Monticello … Me, Slurping Sugary Warm Bubbles At The Bottom Of A Plastic Cup … 

There’s Silence.

“I Wouldn’t Say Golden, But The Day Is Fine And Sunny And About To Get Hotter.”

I Finally Drop The Goose Thing – I’m Stewing In My Adorable Not-At-All Annoying Way – And Segue Shamelessly Into The Bigger Snub In Top Gun 2.

 

THERE’S A SMILE

Toothy.  Boyish.  Charming … 

“Hungry?”  I Ask.  I Can’t Stay Mad At Tee Cee.

“Peckish.”

Perhaps, I Was Confused, Getting My Vibe Crossed.  By Peckish I Want To Ask: Does He Mean Hungry?  Or, Is It Hollywood-speak For Kissy-Kissy Time … Netflix & Chill?

 

THERE’S A GOLDEN CORRAL®

I Suggest The All-Day Buffet … Close By In Waynesboro … 26.2 Miles West Along I-64 … Through The Foothills Of The Shenandoah.

Coincidentally, The Same Distance As A Marathon.

“We Could Run It.”

One Of Us Says … So, Peckish Is Hungry.

 

DON’T MAKE THIS WEIRD

“Yesssss!”

I Scream To Myself.

He’s Stretching.  Getting Limber.  Tai Chi.  Krav Maga.  Could Be Scientology.

I Don’t Ask – I Know When I’ve Said Enough – Which Doesn’t Stop Me From Shadowing His Every Move.

 

“READY, GOOSE?”

Is What I Hear.

“I Melt In The Most Binary Way Possible.”

Show Time.

… We Bounce Off Jefferson’s Front Lawn And Into A Light Jog Down The Hill And Through The Campus Of The University Of Virginia.  

 

AFTER 8 MINUTES

We Pick It Up … The Pace Is Elevated.

We Strip Off The Shirts.  Running In Skinny Black Jeans & Barefoot.  Torso’s Glistening.

“Tee Cee’s In The Danger Zone, Now.  Ear Buds.  Kenny Loggins On Spotify, I’m Guessing, But I’m Really Focused On Getting My Pace In Synch With ABBA Yelping Out Chiquitita … My Karaoke Jam.”

In A Flash, I’m Eating Dust … Left Behind In A Plume Of Gravel.  Tee Cee’s Sprinting Full Out.  Up Hill.

 

IN HALF AN HOUR

A Couple Dozen Join In The Pilgrimage … Growing To Hundreds … Hundreds To Thousands.

I Fall Behind.  Cramped.  Breathless.

A Tiny Voice.  Trailing In The Peloton Of Humanity.  A Small Boy Cries As My Head Grows Heavy And I Fade …

“Run, Forest, Run.”

 

I AWAKEN IN THE DREAM

To The Thwop, Thwop, Thwop … Whirling Of Helicopter Blades.

Hovering Above Me.  A Giant, Gyrating Mechanical Metal Angel.  Descending From Above.

Maverick.  Ethan Hunt.  Lestat.

… Tee Cee’s Suspended On An Invisible Body Harness, Arm Stretched Out To Lift Me.

 

MUCH LATER …

After I’d Paid For Lunch … 

“I Confessed That I’d Taken Tee Cee’s Wallet At The Local Starbucks.”

His Smile Said He Knew.

… It Wasn’t Weird.  

 

MADE MY PITCH

In The Parking Lot … About A Reality Series …  

Starring Me And A Guest Celebrity Every Episode.

With The Working Title Of Running Shirtless: Bromancing The Stone

… We’d Shoot Live In Historical And Exotic Locations, Re-create Famous Cinematic Scenes.

 

I’D SCRIPTED A FEW GOOD ONES

Like Running Shirtless – With Mr. McConaughey – And The Bulls Through The Streets Of Pamplona.

Running Shirtless – With The Hoff – Splashing Knee-High On A So-Cal Beach.

Running Shirtless – With Every Living Actor Who’s Ever Played James Bond – Through The Streets Of London Ending With High Tea And Knighthood By HRM.

Running Shirtless – With The Cast Of Ocean’s 11 – Through The Streets Of Rome To The Vatican And A Private Visit With The Pope.

 

I MAY HAVE PUSHED

The Pitch A Little Too Hard …

Suggesting The Potential For Merchandising Revenue Streams

Like Celebrity Perspiration-Scented Body Spray And Wet Wipes?

Because Who Wouldn’t Want Their Home, Office, Car Or Man Cave Alive With The Essence Of Running Shirtless?

 

WE LEFT IT THERE

Knowing I’ll See Him Again … On Screen … 

About June 26, 2020 When TG2 Comes Out.

“And I’m Stuffing My Yap With Popcorn Sipping On A Tall Frappa … Dreaming What Might’ve Been … If Only I’d Waxed And Not Scooped The Wallet.”

… I’m Over It.

 

Photo by Luis Quintero from Pexels

15 thoughts on “I Should’ve Manscaped

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