Star Lite

"I will be a star one day, you know?"

He had not known this. He turned to look at the woman (or girl; depending on whether you asked her mother or an anthropologist) sitting on his couch and leaning on him (or cuddling; depending on whether you are novice or journeyman cuddler). He did not know who she was. He had felt something against him as he watched the movie but hadn't realized it was a person until it had talked. And so he did the only thing a reasonable person would do in such a situation. He asked,

"Who are you?"

Her face bet on a trifecta of looks. First surprised, then a little offended, and then comprehension as she saw the deeper intent of his question. A deeper intent he had not at all intended.

"I guess I'm a person who always finds herself alone. No matter where I go or how many people are around me."

"Well, you're not alone now." He pointed out, though he felt that he shouldn't have needed to as the fact was quite obvious. But this most obvious of statements seemed to have a profound effect on her and if you were trying to figure out whether or not they were cuddling before you could pretty much knock that off right now because now she was quite clearly embracing him.

At that proximity and with the only light in the room coming from the TV it was tough to tell whether or not she was attractive. She certainly smelled attractive. And the part of her cheek he could feel on his own felt like an attractive cheek. Nevertheless, it was an unfamiliar smell, and an unfamiliar cheek, all belonging to the unfamiliar woman on his couch.

When she loosened the embrace and settled back into her previous position, (now the cuddle taxonomists may resume their work) he tried another question.

"How did you get here?"

Again she decided the obvious aim of the question was out of the question and she thought for a while about the answer.

"Some good decisions, some bad decisions. But mostly I got here by trying to become a star."

"What kind of star?" He could already rule out red dwarf. Her skin was slightly tan and he could see her feet stretched out to the other end of the couch.

"I'm a journalist, but not the kind who goes out and finds stories. The kind who takes any story and tells it so everyone will want to know about it because of the way it's being told and the person who is telling it. A television journalist."

He thought of Sunday School and those old Tell A Vision journalists from the scriptures. He did not think of these people for any particular reason. It was just too good of a pun to pass up. The pun must have been so good that it had been telepathically communicated to her, because she started to laugh.

"Though no one is going to see me if I can't get up for work tomorrow. I should go."

She got up and turned on the light and began to gather what must have been her things because he didn't own a purse or fur lined coat. In the light he could see that she was gorgeous. And so he did the only thing a reasonable person would do in such a situation. He asked,

"When will I get to see you again?"

"Well, obviously every weekday at 5:18 and 6:18 on channel 4. I still do the entertainment update."

How had she gotten here? Did she need a ride home?

"Do you need a ride home?"

She gave him a quizzical look

"I drove you here, remember? I've got my car."

"Oh...Do I have your phone number?" At least this would give him some options for the future.

"You should, but look I'll leave my card here, meet me at work tomorrow for lunch. Like noon or noon thirty."


She may very well have kissed him before she left. She may have decided that someone whose main job is to be on TV in the early evening doesn't have to go to bed that early, so she stayed a while longer. But I ended the story about two sentences or so ago. So It's not really up to me.