So. <\/p>\n
There she was.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ll never forget it- at least in this life.<\/p>\n
I stared hard at the poster. It was of Taylor. She was sitting on a white bench in NYC. Her white striped short shorts presented her legs almost 3 dimensionally, and her shoes were formal heels with white kitten ears. Her white top snuggled her upper body. The buildings, in the distance, seemed almost like a canvas being held aloft by the white sky above them.<\/p>\n
This was the poster that announced Taylor\u2019s 1989<\/i> album. It was the one that sent her fans into the frenzy 6 months ago.<\/p>\n
Yes, I had a few of the posters themselves. Of course<\/i> I did. They are quite rare, but I got a few copies from a seller in Taiwan who clearly didn\u2019t grasp their significance. <\/p>\n
I looked at the poster and pondered. \u201cNow?<\/i>\u201d I thought to myself. I didn\u2019t know. Maybe\u2026 maybe not. I could get Taylor if I wanted- my magic was more than powerful enough- but I just wasn\u2019t sure if now was the right time. Why, though? What was I waiting for?<\/p>\n
The bright whiteness of Taylor\u2019s skin really contrasted against the dull grayness of the buildings behind her. She really stood out\u2026 which was the point. <\/p>\n
Too many people didn\u2019t understand what Taylor was doing with 1989<\/i>, I thought. See, the point is that she\u2019s something of an outsider there, or at least she was at the time. This is the reason why Welcome to New York<\/i> sounds so touristy. It isn\u2019t meant to be authentic.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s meant to be me, I thought. She wrote that album as though it would be written from my perspective, didn\u2019t she? <\/p>\n
I sighed. That\u2026 isn\u2019t the right thing to do. It isn\u2019t honest. But of course there\u2019s no other way. It\u2019s just the way things are, especially these days. These days, there\u2019s nothing else they could do, especially in Taylor\u2019s case, since I\u2019ve been controlling her mind so, so much in the last few years. So much more than the others. I\u2019ve made her a star, whether she wanted to be one or not. I wonder\u2026 does she ever want to be herself again? The old Taylor? Does she miss her? <\/p>\n
Sometimes I do.<\/p>\n
As my thoughts drifted again towards Taylor, my new phone gave me a small song. Someone texted me! I grabbed the phone and eagerly looked at it. It was\u2026<\/p>\n
It was nobody. It was the phone company, telling me that my monthly bill was due. Whatever. I put the phone and poster away, and lay in bed, thinking of nothing.<\/p>\n
——————–<\/p>\n
After a small nap, I looked out my window. It was cloudy. Not overcast- against the bright blue of the sky, the cloud covering was a fluffy, empty white- but you still couldn\u2019t see much of the sun regardless. It looked oppressive. Nothing much to see there, I thought. <\/p>\n
So depressing was the scene outside that I took a look at the window itself, which last week I had painted a bright white color. My paint job was good, but it did look a bit amateurish. It clearly wasn\u2019t done by a professional. My thoughts turned to the perfect white sills of Taylor\u2019s Rhode Island home. That was a beautiful, beautiful house. Maybe someday I\u2019ll see it again.<\/p>\n
But maybe not. Probably not.<\/p>\n
I drifted back to sleep.<\/p>\n
——————–<\/p>\n
The house phone woke me up. I was too groggy to move. I squinted hard at the white plastic block in the distance that was my phone. I could kind of make out that the call was from Albany. Who do I know in Albany? Nobody. I\u2019ll just let the machine get it. <\/p>\n
Whoever it was didn\u2019t leave a message, but they called again. And again. And AGAIN. I was curious and concerned. <\/p>\n
I dragged myself out of bed and answered the phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Jacobsen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUm, hi.\u201d I was still half asleep. I tried to wake myself up by curling the white phone cord with my fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs this Tom?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUm, yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a pause. \u201cHow are you?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m OK. Sorry, I just woke up.\u201d I glanced at the phone. Somebody named Joshua Harrington. The hell? Who was this person? Did this have to do with my cell bill? \u201cI\u2019m sorry but who is this and why are you calling?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou just woke up? It\u2019s like three in the afternoon! I mean, I know you keep an odd schedule but that\u2019s insane!!!\u201d He laughed. I didn\u2019t. He resumed after an awkward pause. \u201cUm, it\u2019s Josh. I need to ask you a favor. You\u2019re the only one that can help me.\u201d<\/p>\n
What?<\/i> Who IS this person? Is this someone from college? From work?<\/p>\n
I bit my lip. \u201cWho are you again?\u201d<\/p>\n
Another pause, this one longer. \u201cAwwww\u2026 You forgot already?\u201d A sigh. \u201cDid what we have mean so little to you?\u201d<\/p>\n
I was in no mood for this, whatever it was. \u201cLook, whoever you are, we didn\u2019t have<\/i> anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I wouldn\u2019t say that. After all, you DID give me the best blowjob I\u2019ve ever gotten.\u201d<\/p>\n
Um. WHAT? I nearly dropped the phone. What the hell was this person\u2019s problem? Should I call the police?<\/p>\n
And then\u2026 I thought for a second. His voice did<\/i> sound a little familiar\u2026 and he had a prominent lisp. Was he gay? His name is Joshua, and now that I think about it, something tells me that I have<\/i> met someone recently with that name. But who…? Oh my GOD! This is Taylor\u2019s dancer! The one from the wedding!<\/p>\n
I stopped curling the cord. I felt it get limp in my fingers. \u201cOh\u2026 hi. Joshua.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cCall me Josh. Hey. Look, I need your help. You\u2019re Taylor\u2019s biggest fan, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKind of…\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGreat. Here\u2019s the thing. We need your help with some ideas about Taylor\u2019s new tour. We figure that if anyone could help us, it would be you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUm, OK.\u201d I guess that made sense. I\u2019ve seen her in concert twice before and know her better than anyone. So yeah, I could help. \u201cI can help, but I’ve never choreographed anything before…\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe have people to take care of that…\u201d His voice trailed a bit. \u201cTom, to be honest, Taylor is stressing out majorly with this new tour. That’s really why we need you. We need to know how to make things easier for her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean, stressing?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, she’s a little stressed out… she has a lot to deal with, you know? You can help with that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, definitely! Listen, I still have Taylor\u2019s number from a year ago. I\u2019d just like to verify it with you before I call her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh\u2026\u201d He stopped. \u201cAbout that.\u201d He cleared his throat. \u201cPlease don\u2019t let Taylor know you\u2019re doing this.\u201d<\/p>\n
What? \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause she made us promise not to talk to you directly. Taylor would fire me if she found out I was doing this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wow, really? \u201cBut why? What you\u2019re asking seems reasonable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh honey, I don\u2019t know. It\u2019s just what Taylor wants. She\u2019s the boss.\u201d<\/p>\n
Honey? Whatever. \u201cRight\u2026 so what\u2019s in it for me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, we can pay you of course. And you\u2019ll help Taylor.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t care about Taylor.\u201d I snapped. \u201cHow much?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI talked about this with my manager. He said that we could pay you a couple thousand for a week\u2019s work as a contractor.\u201d<\/p>\n
Good, that was more than I was making in my real job. Maybe this was a good idea. \u201cOk\u2026 but Taylor won\u2019t care if she bumps into me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe could just do it long distance. Over the phone and the internet.\u201d<\/p>\n
That would be a good precaution, but I didn\u2019t like it. I\u2019m a perfectionist. When I do things I want to do them right.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. It would help to see things, I think. I mean, with my own eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, I know. Could you fly down here? Maybe just for a weekend? We could get you down here before rehearsals start. That way there would be no chance of you meeting Taylor.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure, just pick the weekend.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOk, I\u2019ll have my manager set something up. I don\u2019t know exactly when he\u2019ll want you here.\u201d He stopped. \u201cTom\u2026 there\u2019s no hard feelings, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHard feelings?\u201d I thought for a second. \u201cAbout what? Nothing happened between us. We just talked. That\u2019s it. We were having a nice conversation when Taylor interrupted us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh honey, that\u2019s rude.\u201d <\/p>\n
Honey, again? And his overly prominent lisp was really starting to bug me. \u201cIt\u2019s what it is, Josh.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHmmmm?? And what do you mean by that?\u201d<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t sure why, but Josh just wasn\u2019t who I wanted to talk to right now. Well, actually, I did<\/i> know. I just didn\u2019t want to say it. Josh wasn\u2019t simply a bisexual; he was clearly, and I mean clearly, gay.<\/p>\n
Somehow, Josh seemed to think of me as being like him, when I definitely am not. In fact I resented the implication that I was.<\/p>\n
Yes, I have a very strong feminine side. Everyone by now knows the story. In addition to my hetero, world dominating lady killer side, I\u2019m no stranger to things like gender bending, same sex attraction and the like. I do talk with a lisp, too. And I have the mannerisms. I mean, it\u2019s obvious<\/i>. Everyone who converses with me picks up on \u201cthat side\u201d of me within a few minutes. <\/p>\n
But Josh is something different entirely. His feminine nature isn\u2019t a \u201cside\u201d. It\u2019s who he is to the core. He\u2019s 100% gay, and I, as a staunch old-fashioned conservative, wasn\u2019t comfortable with that. I certainly wasn\u2019t used to it. His personality reminded me of the drag queen I talked to in Chicago that summer, and I wasn\u2019t sure of how to deal with that stuff.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell,\u201d He chirped. \u201cMaybe we should talk later. I need to go… Niiiice talking to yoooou, hun.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ok, I\u2019m not<\/i> like him. Not even close.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, nice talking to you too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBye.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBYE.\u201d I slammed the phone down unexpectedly hard. Whatever. This was a bad idea and I knew<\/i> that it was. Taylor\u2019s world wasn\u2019t my world. It definitely<\/i> wasn\u2019t my world. But I\u2019m just so gullible. <\/p>\n
As I stood there looking down at the phone, I was surprised at what I saw when my glance turned to my hand. My knuckles were pure white. Evidently, I had held the receiver much too tensely. <\/p>\n
Hm. Should I do this? I should. This is for Taylor. I\u2019d do anything to help her. And the money wouldn\u2019t hurt.<\/p>\n
And\u2026 I\u2019m curious. Don\u2019t I own this culture? I want to see it up close, maybe.<\/p>\n
An hour later, Josh\u2019s manager texted me with instructions. I was on my way. For better or worse.<\/p>\n
——————–<\/p>\n
The flight to Albany was just that. It was nothing special. This time I counted clouds. One, ten, a hundred\u2026 it reminded me of counting sheep. Eventually, everything- the white of the clouds, the white of the plane and the white noise of its engines, lulled me to sleep. It was a short flight for me.<\/p>\n
When I came to, everyone was standing up. I guess the flight had landed. I left the plane with them, gathered my luggage and eventually found my cab, a white sedan that must have been a converted police car. As I entered, I stole a glance at the driver. Was it\u2026 ?!?!<\/p>\n
No, it wasn\u2019t. This driver was an immigrant, probably from Pakistan, judging from his color and the name on his nameplate. With my dreams of seeing a familiar, hoary old white man in a green uniform dashed, I exchanged pleasantries with the driver, tossed my bags in and prepared for a long, boring cab ride. <\/p>\n
I checked my watch. Taylor\u2019s team was right now arriving at the auditorium.<\/p>\n
I talked to Josh last week on the phone. According to him, right now things were still in the brainstorming stage. They weren’t ready for rehearsals, so Taylor shouldn’t show up there for two or three weeks at least. This would give me, him, and others there some time to talk. I should be long gone by the time she enters the equation.<\/p>\n
I found it odd that Taylor was this time rehearsing in Albany. For all her previous tours, she rehearsed in Nashville. As a loyal Swifty, I of course have some memorabilia from some of her rehearsals there, including a set of guitar picks she once handed out after a session. <\/p>\n
Maybe her moving the rehearsals outside of Nashville is an important symbolic move for her. Or maybe it\u2019s just a matter of convenience. <\/p>\n
We’ll see once I’m there. Since the auditorium was on the way to the hotel I\u2019m booked at tonight, I determined that I should just stop there first.<\/p>\n
I yawned. Well, all of this was starting to bore me. The cars outside my widows were becoming white blurs as they sped by. This cabbie obeyed the speed limit at all times, regardless of how ridiculous it was. I sighed, closed my eyes, and let the powerful white of the sun bathe my eyelids as I dozed. I felt warm.<\/p>\n
——————–<\/p>\n
I came to about twenty minutes from the auditorium. Since we still had a ways to go, I decided to strike up a conversation with the cabbie. Judging from his young age and curious accent, he was a recent immigrant- very new to the US. Good, I thought. You know\u2026 this was a perfect opportunity to talk about race. I never<\/i> get to talk about that with Americans, because they\u2019re psychotic and extremely weird about it. After a few softball questions about the weather to get things rolling, I glanced at his nameplate and started.<\/p>\n
\u201cAtif, I have a question.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes Tom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you think about white people?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I like white people in America.\u201d He started. \u201cYou\u2019re nice and have a good country.\u201d <\/p>\n
Good. He hadn\u2019t, yet, absorbed the insanity that is the American Liberal Racial Dialogue. So he could still talk about this stuff like a rational human. \u201cThanks. I mean, like, what do you think about us, you know, in general?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI like white people a lot. Before I came to America, I was in Germany for a year.\u201d<\/p>\n
Well, that explains his accent. He was an Asian, speaking English with a German accent! WTF!? I stifled a laugh at that. \u201cReally? Do you know any German?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA little. Basic things\u2026 nothing too much.\u201d He stopped. \u201cI like white countries. Everything here seems to, uh, work on time. On a schedule. The traffic. I grew up in Pakistan. In Pakistan, nobody follows the traffic rules.\u201d He glanced up at a green light. \u201cAnd everything in indoors\u2026 you don\u2019t have to be out in the sun all the time. Everything is clean here. And when you tell people in Pakistan you\u2019re in America, they feel impressed. It\u2019s reputation. You tell people you\u2019re a cab driver in Pakistan and no one cares. You tell them you\u2019re a cab driver in America and they see you different just because it\u2019s America.\u201d He smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou speak English well for a recent immigrant.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI watch a lot of American TV growing up.\u201d<\/p>\n
Of course. My friends at work. It was interesting that he identified \u201cwhite people\u201d as being \u201cAmerican\u201d. This is how it is, of course, Al Sharpton\u2019s antics notwithstanding.<\/p>\n
\u201cI like how in white places you don\u2019t have to hear gunshots. I live in Pakistan by Afghanistan and I hear gunshots all the time\u2026 at night. Everyone stays away where they come from but you always hear them. I don\u2019t know who is shooting at who but it always happens at night. I hate that. You can\u2019t do anything. That doesn\u2019t happen in the US.\u201d<\/p>\n
At least, not in the white places, of course. I pressed him further. I was curious. \u201cWhat do you think about blacks in America? Mostly I don\u2019t think they\u2019re very smart.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re not.\u201d He laughed. \u201cI don\u2019t like blacks. I never pick them up. They mug people. They\u2019re angry. They steal from people. One stole my wallet once.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry to hear that.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cBlack neighborhoods\u2026\u201d He shook his head. \u201cI don\u2019t go there. I don\u2019t go there.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAgreed.\u201d So much for the Rainbow Coalition, I thought. I paused for a second, trying to think of a new tangent. \u201cWhat do you think of the Taliban?\u201d I asked blankly.<\/p>\n
He was a bit surprised at that question, but the look on my face said that I was harmless. \u201cThe Taliban can be good or bad\u2026 there\u2019s good people and bad in the Taliban. I think they were better when I was growing up. I remember a Christian white person came to Pakistan once, and I know the Taliban helped him get a hotel in Afghanistan.\u201d<\/p>\n
Interesting. I was fascinated. \u201cSo, you think they\u2019re different now?\u201d<\/p>\n
He shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t know. I don\u2019t know much about them since I moved West. My family doesn\u2019t say about them when we talk.\u201d He sighed. \u201cSometimes when I was young, the Taliban was strong, and then the guns stopped shooting. Sometimes you would even forget what the guns sounded like. But now, you hear them every night. That\u2019s what my friends say. That\u2019s why I went to Germany.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded. This conversation was getting too heavy, I thought.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d He asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cTo see Taylor Swift. I work with her.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cReally?\u201d He perked up. Pop culture, as always, provides the needed escape. \u201cWhat do you do?\u201d<\/p>\n
I said the first thing that came to mind. \u201cI\u2019m a dancer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I see<\/i>!!\u201d He laughed, as if picking up on something. <\/p>\n
Damn. Whatever. I didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n
We spent the rest of the ride chatting about the TV shows he watched growing up. It was interesting. You never think much about that, growing up here- about how American TV is shown worldwide, everywhere. It’s interesting. It’s so interesting to talk about that I almost didn\u2019t want the cab to reach the auditorium\u2026 but it did.<\/p>\n
I got out, grabbed my things and paid Atif. I gave him a nice, healthy tip, in spite of my reservations. He was nice, a good driver and I learned much from him, but I couldn\u2019t help but think that he was taking a job away from a jobless American. Because he was.<\/p>\n
I nodded and smiled at him as he drove away. His white cab became a toy in the distance.<\/p>\n
——————–<\/p>\n
I looked up at the auditorium. It was medium sized building, white on the outside with a big entrance. Now that I\u2019m here, it was time for business. This was serious<\/i>. I straightened my posture as I walked up to the building. The glass doors reflected my image as they opened for me. I walked in, bags in hand.<\/p>\n
Inside, Josh was standing there, waiting for me in… a white tuxedo? His powdered face was contorted in a menacing grimace. He was pissed<\/i>.<\/p>\n
\u201cHi, so glad you could make it!!! Now come here.\u201d Before I could take in my surroundings or even say as much as say hi in return, he grabbed my arm and pulled me off to the side, near a huge, blank white wall. \u201cTom, what are you doing<\/i>? Why didn\u2019t you turn your phone on?\u201d<\/p>\n
My phone? But it was<\/i> on! I took it out of my pocket and turned it on. Nothing. The battery was dead. Oops. \u201cMy battery is dead. Not sure what happened. Sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou need to leave, now<\/i>!\u201d He hissed at me quietly and angrily. <\/p>\n
I was stunned. Then\u2026 I looked up and saw the center of everyone else\u2019s attention. In the middle of a group of white tuxedoed dancers, stood a tall blonde girl, with a white skirt and a white T, urgently barking orders to everyone else. Even though her back was turned to me, she reminded me of Taylor Swift on her 1989<\/i> poster.<\/p>\n
Uh oh.<\/p>\n
I turned to Josh. \u201cI\u2019m not going to just leave! I don\u2019t even know where I am!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJosh! Josh! Where ARE you!?!?\u201d The girl yelled. \u201cWe need you for this number!!\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cDuck!\u201d Josh whispered. I hunched over. He turned to face Taylor. \u201cI\u2019ll be right over!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho are<\/i> you talking<\/i> to? We need to get this done TODAY!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know, sorry Taylor!\u201d<\/p>\n
Taylor turned to face her other dancers. Josh quickly spun to face me. \u201cGo upstairs and into the dressing room! NOW!!!\u201d<\/p>\n
I raced upstairs before Taylor could see me. I saw an opened room with outfits inside and hurried in. I closed the door behind me and quickly sat on the one chair that didn\u2019t have clothes draped over it.<\/p>\n
*Whew*. Wow. Yep, this had been a mistake. Of course.<\/p>\n
After a few blissful moments of nothing, I took in my surroundings. The room was filled with white. White tuxedos, white makeup, white shoes, and white lights. The very bright fluorescent lighting at the makeup stations was striking, and it was made more so because it reflected so much off the white walls. It was cool and different. I plugged my phone into an outlet and took a picture. <\/p>\n
Then the door opened. In walked two young women, one brunette I\u2019d seen somewhere before, and one blonde I hadn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
They were both surprised to see me in the dressing room. \u201cExcuse me, who are you?\u201d asked the blonde. <\/p>\n
Should I tell her my real name? I looked at the brunette. It was\u2026 it was Danielle Haim!!! Shit!!<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t tell her who I was! She would tell Taylor! I stopped, my mind for once empty of ideas. What do I do? <\/p>\n
Danielle focused on me. \u201cI\u2026 know you, don\u2019t I?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ve met once or twice.\u201d Which we had, of course. Telepathically.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s your name again?\u201d <\/p>\n
Good question. Should I lie? Of course I should. \u201cBill.\u201d What was my last name? Clinton? \u201cBill Williams.\u201d Good job, Tom. Bill Bill.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re late.\u201d The blonde said. \u201cTaylor\u2019s gonna fire you if she sees that you were two hours late.\u201d<\/p>\n
She was?<\/p>\n
\u201cTaylor\u2019s not<\/i> going to be happy.\u201d Danielle said. \u201cShe\u2019s already really stressed today, and you showing up late is going to make everything so much worse for everyone if she finds out.\u201d<\/p>\n
The blonde cleaned off the chair nearest the door. \u201cIf we get you ready quick, we can sneak you in without her noticing. But you owe<\/i> me for this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Get me ready? They thought I was a dancer<\/i>?!?! I looked at the empty chair, dread welling up inside of me. I should tell the truth. But what happens to Josh? Won\u2019t Taylor fire him if she finds out? <\/p>\n
What I could do is get all dressed up, leave the room, and then make a break for it when the blonde and Danielle aren\u2019t looking. That would work. I\u2019ll need to take my bags with me when I leave the room, but I\u2019m sure I could figure out how to do that.<\/p>\n
So I sat down in the chair.<\/p>\n
The blonde quickly got to work putting makeup on me. This\u2026 was strange. I didn\u2019t like it. I felt weird. Very, very<\/i> weird. The harsh bright white lights felt pretty intense. Almost like I was in some kind of interrogation. <\/p>\n
She slathered on the white foundation and quickly traced my eyes with eyeliner. All I could think of was please don\u2019t poke me in the eye<\/i>. She didn\u2019t of course, and then came the powder. It irritated my allergies and I sneezed when she put it on.<\/p>\n
\u201cBless you!\u201d She said. \u201cSorry. I\u2019m just trying to get you ready as quickly as I can.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s OK. Allergies. Thanks\u2026\u201d <\/p>\n
It took all of ten minutes. \u201cThere! What do you think?\u201d <\/p>\n
I dunno. \u201cI look great, thanks!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s super quick and dirty, but I think you\u2019ll be OK for awhile.\u201d<\/p>\n
Danielle was standing beside the blonde, holding a white tuxedo like costume. It turns out the tuxes weren\u2019t real tuxes, now that I looked at one more closely.<\/p>\n
I tried it on and it fit. It was a little snug- I\u2019ve no six pack- but I guess it fit. The blonde scrutinized me. She pinched my abs, and found a shallow layer of fat. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou need to take care of this.\u201d She said. <\/p>\n
\u201cSorry! I\u2019ll be in amazing shape in time for the tour, I promise.\u201d <\/p>\n
She scrutinized me again. Her eyes met mine. \u201cI trust you. Something tells me I should, even though you really don\u2019t seem like you would be a good dancer.\u201d She rolled her eyes. \u201cAnd, you show up late.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBeginner\u2019s nerves.\u201d I said confidently. \u201cI\u2019ll handle it.\u201d I smiled. \u201cThank you both.\u201d Shit, now how was I going to get out of this?<\/p>\n
They practically pushed me out the door. I\u2019ll need to find some way of getting my bags later, I guess.<\/p>\n
As we left the room, my eyes scanned the building. There was security posted by every door, I guess to protect Taylor. Uh oh. No way to make a break for it, is there?<\/p>\n
The three of us stood at the railing by the staircase, watching the troupe rehearse with Taylor. It was fascinating and I thought I should take it all in. After all, it was the last thing I would see before I died of embarrassment.<\/p>\n
The troupe and Taylor were performing Blank Space<\/i> in front of a massive white screen that filled up with their silhouettes as they performed. They were doing a routine very similar to the one they did at the Brit Awards. It was really cool to see in person. There was one part where the dancers spun Taylor around, and the image of her spinning was quite striking on the huge white screen behind her. <\/p>\n
After two successful rehearsals, Taylor left for a drink of water. Then the blonde and Danielle saw their opportunity and near pushed me downstairs, down those white steps muddied with years of wear.<\/p>\n
I snuck up behind the other dancers, but I eyed the exits nevertheless. Nope. The security guards would get me for sure.<\/p>\n
So I just stood there. I think I\u2019ll wing it. That, or maybe I can find some way to die really quick. Either way, really. <\/p>\n
I could just feel the blood draining from my face. Underneath the white makeup and powder, I\u2019ll bet I looked like death.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlright!\u201d Taylor walked over to us and clapped her hands. \u201cLet\u2019s do this one more time!\u201d <\/p>\n
Oh my GOD.<\/p>\n
The other dancers all got in their positions. Maybe if I can just kind of improvise, nobody will notice. I mean, that\u2019s pretty much my only option, anyways. <\/p>\n
So the rehearsal started, and I got along OK by doing the robot in the background. At least, I was until the spinning started. After a few spins, Taylor was spun, to my extreme horror, in my direction. <\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t know what to do, so I decided to imitate the other dancers. I grabbed her shoulders and tried to spin her back towards the middle, only to get her feet tangled up in mine. She fell, backwards, into my arms. Uh oh.<\/p>\n
Not knowing what else to do, I panicked and kissed her. She\u2019s going to find out who I am in about 3 seconds anyways, so maybe I\u2019ll try to make this a romantic moment.<\/p>\n
I kissed her. Hard. On the lips. With everything I had. She initially tried to force me off, and then\u2026 didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
She grabbed my shoulders, stood up, and kissed me back.<\/p>\n
We separated and looked at each other, our still bodies not reacting to the music pounding around us.<\/p>\n
Everyone else was just staring.<\/p>\n
\u201cHi. Taylor.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHi… Tom.\u201d<\/p>\n
——————–<\/p>\n
Taylor and I sat on the edge of the empty stage, our legs dangling off of it. The song had stopped and everyone else had taken a break. The white screen behind us was still there, an obelisk for what was coming.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo\u2026\u201d She was still surprised. She clearly didn\u2019t know what to say. \u201cUm\u2026 where did you<\/i> come from?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s a long story.\u201d I started. \u201cWeird but good. And long.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sure.\u201d She smiled. \u201cI\u2019m not upset. I\u2019ve come to expect this kind of thing with you.\u201d She looked at me. \u201cTo be honest, I would have been disappointed had you not<\/i> somehow worked your way into the middle of all this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomeone\u2026 hired me to help you. With the tour. Ideas and such, I mean. But I wasn\u2019t supposed to meet you.\u201d<\/p>\n
She gazed at me quizzically. \u201cThen why\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s a long story. I got trapped in the dressing room upstairs and kind of didn\u2019t have a choice but to join the dancers.\u201d <\/p>\n
She came to a realization. \u201cOh\u2026 Josh. He was talking to you, wasn\u2019t he?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, but please don\u2019t get upset with him. I came here of my own accord.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll have a word with him later. I need to see what he says…\u201d She laughed. \u201cBoy, did you fuck up!\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cNot necessarily.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, you\u2019re<\/i> certainly happier. Everyone says that you\u2019ve been stressing lately and really, I was hired to fix that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh. Really?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYup. I mean, I get why, but you can\u2019t let it get in the way of things. Truthfully, some people close to you are walking on eggshells, but you don’t see it for some reason, and they feel they can’t say what they want to say because… because you\u2019re the most famous and powerful celebrity in the world right now. I don’t know. I guess that what I’m saying is that you need to remember that others are always going to be very intimidated to say anything critical to you sometimes because of your fame and money. You need to regulate yourself…\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked away. \u201cI guess.\u201d That definitely wasn\u2019t what she wanted to hear. She didn\u2019t want to be reminded that she wasn\u2019t normal\u2026 and never would be again. Kind of like me- sometimes, I don\u2019t like to be reminded of that, either.<\/p>\n
I looked down at her soft legs, which were kicking out from her tight white skirt. She was beautiful. A perfect woman, from my perspective. I loved her so much and felt so protective of her sometimes… and now, I needed to help her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think that that\u2019s why nobody wanted you to see me. It\u2019s because they didn\u2019t know how you\u2019d react, maybe.\u201d<\/p>\n
She paused. I let her think for a moment. \u201cI do stress, sometimes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s fine. Lord knows I do, too. Just talk about what you’re feeling and don\u2019t let it get in the way of making things better for you, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks Tom\u2026 I\u2019ll think about what you said.\u201d She kissed me on the cheek. \u201cYou\u2019re not ready, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine. Let\u2019s talk tour.\u201d<\/p>\n
——————–<\/p>\n
Taylor, a few of her associates and I gathered and brainstormed in the dressing room upstairs. Both Taylor and I had fun. It was a relief. I was able to contribute well. Good. Even though I didn\u2019t know the basics of touring, I was able to give some general ideas that were well received. <\/p>\n
In particular, I was able to help out with her song choices. She already had that mostly figured out- she was thinking about the tour before she even released her album- but there were a few choices she was having trouble making. In the end, I made those for her. She liked my opinions.<\/p>\n
After a couple of hours, we all took a break. Taylor, in particular, needed some time to recharge from her dancing that morning. So we just chilled for a while.<\/p>\n
In the downtime, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. In the corner of the dressing room, under a bright white florescent light, there was a huge stack of shiny magazines.<\/p>\n
I walked over and leafed through them. Every one of them had Taylor on the cover.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s this, Taylor?\u201d <\/p>\n
One of her assistants, a gay, balding makeup artist in a white T and with a magnolia tattooed on his arm, chimed in. \u201cOh, those are my magazines.\u201d He said. \u201cFashion and music magazines. I keep them in case I need to review looks.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor her tour?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor whatever. I use them for inspiration.\u201d He shrugged and waved his arm around. \u201cI mean, why re-invent the wheel?\u201d<\/p>\n
Made sense.<\/p>\n
Near the bottom of the stack, there was one magazine that I thought must have been put in there inadvertently; it was covered by Malala Yousafzai. It was Time Magazine’s 100 Most Influential People in the World issue.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy is this in here?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cOh, Taylor was nominated for Person of the Year.\u201d He was proud. \u201cBut it\u2019s a good thing she didn\u2019t win. Sorry, Tay.\u201d He touched her arm. She laughed. We all did.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is<\/i> good. You know, the world needs more girls like Malala.\u201d Taylor said, blushing. \u201cShe\u2019s strong. She\u2019s an inspiration. It\u2019s so inspiring to read about her and what she\u2019s overcome. I think every girl should look up to her.\u201d<\/p>\n
What she said was truth, I thought. It was<\/i> horrible what happened to her, and she is inspiring. But maybe, I thought, I should start a conversation about something else, perhaps about what the cab driver had told me earlier about the Taliban, and how not all of them were so bad, and why some people that lived in that area admired them. <\/p>\n
I almost did. I thought about it. I thought about what the response would be if I just asked everyone here about what they thought of the Taliban, overall<\/i>. I mean, what about their good points? I mean, didn\u2019t some people in the Taliban condemn the shooting, too?<\/p>\n
Then I remembered who I was talking to, and who I was in the room with. These were hardcore liberals; all of them. And not just that, these were liberals of the white, urban, Obama Cool-Aid type; the kind that may not have been confronted with any real questioning of their ideas in person for years, if ever. The kind would be absolutely horrified at any<\/i> part of my conversation with Atif.<\/p>\n
I decided that I wasn\u2019t going to be the one to break the ice.<\/p>\n
I straightened the stack and we continued talking about the tour.<\/p>\n
——————–<\/p>\n
The meeting ended as well as it could have. There was a lot more work to do on Taylor\u2019s end, and her team had tons of things to prepare for. I did my job, though. Taylor seemed more ready, and much more relaxed, than she had been.<\/p>\n
The situation had improved so much from my perspective that things were arranged for me to go home the next morning. <\/p>\n
Good. I got the week\u2019s pay, plus a nice bonus, for an afternoon of work. And the memories from this would last a lifetime. <\/p>\n
Taylor escorted me to the auditorium\u2019s door after the meeting. Her hair, once perfectly arranged, had fallen into a mess, and her once white clothes were dirty and mussed from the day\u2019s work. <\/p>\n
Behind her, the enormous white screen seemed as imposing as ever.<\/p>\n
We said goodbye to each other, but we both knew that it wasn\u2019t time yet for that.<\/p>\n
I dropped my bags, grabbed her shoulders, and kissed her as hard as I could. Much harder than I should have, in fact, because it felt like something wasn\u2019t right\u2026 something had been left undone, somehow, but I couldn\u2019t put my finger on what. Whatever it was would need to wait for next time, I guess.<\/p>\n
\u201cMmmm\u2026\u201d Taylor forcefully sighed as our soft lips collided over and over into each other. She was so hot<\/i>. Of course she typically is, but she is just so much more so in person, and never more so than when she is in a stage outfit. I felt a strong urge to grab her legs but stopped at the last moment. Again, this time\u2026 that wouldn\u2019t be right. <\/p>\n
I pulled away from her. I left her confused and twirling her hair.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need to get going\u2026\u201d If I was to reach my hotel before sundown, I would need to go now. <\/p>\n
\u201cI know. I need to leave too. I have a talk show appearance in New York tonight.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cOh, you do? I didn\u2019t know! Am I keeping you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you\u2019re not. It\u2019s OK. In fact I might be able to catch a quick nap before I leave.\u201d She yawned. She was clearly very, very tired. This had been such a long day for her. It was so obvious. As she stood there, I found myself wishing I could give her some of my energy. For some reason, I wasn\u2019t feeling tired at all.<\/p>\n
\u201cTay, just know that whatever happens, I will support you. I love you. I\u2019ll always be your foundation. Always.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know. I will always love you, Tom.\u201d She yawned again, deeper than before. We kissed. This time, I did grab one of her legs, but only for a few seconds. I didn\u2019t want to tempt myself. This life\u2026 wasn\u2019t fulfilling for either one of us in some ways. But in other strange ways it just felt so, so right. Neither one of us truly knew what to do sometimes. <\/p>\n
But that\u2019s life. <\/p>\n
Our eyes were closed so hard. From the bright fluorescents above, they filled up with white.<\/p>\n
This time, she tried to pull away from me.<\/p>\n
To her surprise, I didn\u2019t let her. I only kissed her harder, and in doing so, I flooded her body with my energy. I filled up her every cell.<\/p>\n
She was bursting with energy when I finally let her break the kiss.<\/p>\n
\u201cWowww! This\u2026\u201d She stammered. She was in awe.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy parting gift to you, Tay. I love you so much. Good luck tonight, honey.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pulled her forward and turned to kiss her on the cheek. When I did so, I noticed a yellow cab was pulling up to the front of the building. This must be for me, I thought. <\/p>\n
I grabbed my bags and left the building. As I did so, I caught Taylor\u2019s image in between the white reflections on the glass doors. She was smiling.<\/p>\n
That was all I needed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
So. There she was. I\u2019ll never forget it- at least in this life. I stared hard at the poster. It was of Taylor. She was sitting on a white bench in NYC. Her white striped short shorts presented her legs almost 3 dimensionally, and her shoes were formal heels with white kitten ears. Her white […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sighinide.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1208"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sighinide.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sighinide.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sighinide.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sighinide.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1208"}],"version-history":[{"count":48,"href":"https:\/\/sighinide.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1208\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1285,"href":"https:\/\/sighinide.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1208\/revisions\/1285"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sighinide.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1208"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sighinide.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1208"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sighinide.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1208"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}