Suzy Cube is stadium sell-out music diva but lives a lonely lifestyle. She's looking for a stand up guy that will finally bring her companionship.
Bruce Meadows (aka Bruce Mellow) is an opening act stand-up comedian that lives in a basement apartment, that wants to meet and date Suzy Cube. Will a front row ticket, a backstage pass, and a whole lot of luck be enough for them to discover each other?
Sometimes even bad luck is all you need.
COPYRIGHT 2009—NAHTAN HOJ TABLE OF CONTENTS FOREWORD CHAPTER 1 LONELY DIVA CHAPTER 2 OPENING ACT CHAPTER 3 THE CONCERT CHAPTER 4 THE AUTOGRAPH CHAPTER 5 THE PHONE CALL CHAPTER 6 THE DATE CHAPTER 7 THE MUGGING CHAPTER 8 THE HOTEL ROOM CHAPTER 9 THE FIGHT CHAPTER 10 GETTING DRUNK WITH THE OTHER WOMAN CHAPTER 11 THE REVELATION CHAPTER 12 THE TOUR LEAVES CHAPTER 13 GO AFTER HER AFTERWORD ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ABOUT THE AUTHOR FOREWORD Like most stories of this nature, there is always that girl, and that guy, and usually another girl of seemingly less significance and someone (usually the guy) does something stupid, something happens, and feelings get hurt, and somebody has to make it better. The characters need to be on different planes of existence to create a situation comedy. I feel my character choices are indeed on different planes. Hopefully my version of a familiar love story is just different enough to be original. So what are you waiting for, start turning the pages. LONELY DIVA Suzy Cube is a pop sensation, with chart topping hits worldwide. Her concerts are some of the sexiest shows ever seen, with multiple costume changes and sexy lyrics; she is the epitome of many men’s dreams. It’s not easy being popular, the tour schedules and the recording studio take up a lot of her time, and finding a man, any man is, is not something she has much time for. Her entourage hates it when she goes off in disguise to get away from it all, but they know she’ll return, because she always has. None of her incognito trips has ever found her a man, but how many men would believe she was who she said she was anyway? It’s not like she can come up to a cute guy and say; “Hey, nice to meet you, I’m really Suzy Cube.” Most men would either drool with adoration or run for help. It’s not like pop divas talk to the average Joe everyday. She loves her fried foods, hardly helpful to her girlish figure but wings are her all-time favourite. She is so thankful her tour stop picked Buffalo, so she can go to the Anchor Bar. She only hopes to find a guy she can enjoy them with. All of the Entertainment shows crave to know who she’ll be dating and they never find anyone. She’s insisted that a celebrity is not the way to go, though they could relate to her lifestyle, they wouldn’t be around enough for her companionship. Suzy stared in the mirror in her tour bus office and spoke. “Just once I’d like to find a guy right there in the audience, waiting for me. Then I’ll know that its fate that brought us together. It wouldn’t hurt if he was kind of cute.” Next stop Buffalo, the stadium was pretty much a sell-out, even if most of the seats were corporate types, schmoozing clients; a full stadium was something she adored performing to. OPENING ACT Bruce Meadows is a stand up guy, literally. We find him on stage at a local Buffalo comedy club, opening for a more successful act he’s never heard of before. He looks like a young Vladimir Putin, whom is being considered as a sex symbol for the more mature set. His physique is pretty decent for a man of forty, his thin hair is not detracting from his looks in any way, but he’s said “no” to several girls mostly because he has an obsession with one famous pop star; that is probably much younger than him. Bruce is the first guy to open a door for someone, and let someone into traffic, provided they do it politely. If they don’t drive with courtesy in mind, they become part of his act. His Thursday night routine begins on stage to crowd of yuppies and generation X types. “Hey, folks how you all doing tonight?” A few yells and jeers gave him a feel for the audience, so he starts off his routine. “Great stuff, who here likes driving to work in the morning?” a quick scan shows that no hands are up. “Fantastic, you hate driving as much as I do.” Some laughs, table slapping, and cheers. “Have you ever wondered why none of the people you drive behind, can ever signal their ass?” A heckler yells: “I resemble that remark!” “Precisely my point pal, maybe if you had a signal to your brain, you could signal a change of a lane. You sure don’t drive straight so you must be pissed drunk!” “Oh, wow a poet in a comedy club.” Shouts the heckler. “At least poets have more intelligence than a loser who can’t find a stick on a steering column. Did you even know your lane hopping is increasing your travel distance?” A few more cheers, putting the heckler in his place. “Now, have you also noticed, that most motorists… (I use the word motorists, because a driver means someone who is skilled… and a motorist clearly is not) have no idea how to perform simple mathematics.” “They keep driving their rectangular cars into triangular lanes, because they cannot read a diamond shaped road sign!” “Driving isn’t Rocket Science; it’s Geometry. It’s a whole lot simpler, unless you’re a complete moron.” Loud applause, a few whistles, and a cat call from a girl in the front row. “Let’s consider the rain. Everybody and their brother’s uncle’s car is some shade of grey. The road is grey, the sky is grey, we can’t see your ass that’s grey, that’s lost in the rain and spray because your lack of grey matter can’t find a light bulb today!” “How about driving in snow? What do you call people that can’t clean snow off their cars? The Three Forces Of Evil: Mobile Snowbanks, Defroster Dunces, and the Wipers Only Brigade!” “How about darkness? Put your bloody lights on, Moron in a Neon! There’s this thing called darkness that headlights actually work in!” “Blocking Intersections, Hell’s Kitchen you know the place the light changes and schmucks are blocking your path. If you don’t fit, don’t be a twit! A side street is not a parking space for assholes, but assholes always park there! Green does not mean go people; it means Proceed if and when the way is clear. If it’s not CLEAR it’s not WHEN you PROCEED!” “Stop proving your stupidity, by your inability, to do simple Geometry, and prove to me, your need for a lobotomy!” “Damn, I got more for ya, but the hook is ready to take me offstage. Thanks for putting up with me.” He takes his cue from the stage manager to let the next act on, and quietly exits the stage. A few people at the exit door give him some encouragement. “You did good man, there’s always one loser ready to mess you up.” said one. “Yeah, that tosser was a real dipass.” said another. “Hell, yeah mate, love the math stuff, original I say. Lobotomy was a great finish.” Our guy just smiles and starts to open the door to leave, when the stage manager stops him. “Yo, dude I forgot your name already, we’ll have you back for another opener when we got some space. So what’s your handle again?” “Bruce, Meadows” he said. “Ok, got it Bruce Mellow.” And he turned away before Bruce with his hand up tried to correct him. Now he could leave. After all he had front row seats with backstage passes to the hottest singer on the planet, for tomorrow night. Suzy Cube. Though he was clearly way out of her league, he had high hopes that a meet and greet could allow him to woo her. He could even use his new stage name; maybe that would work. Bruce may use some insults in his routine like every other stand up act, but his insults were based in pure logic. He didn’t resort to sex jokes, fart jokes, or constant swearing. Logic made more sense. The Geometry vs. Rocket Science angle drove the issue home. His jobs never seemed to pay all the bills, and every woman that showed an interest in him, he had never felt a spark for. His stage acts had barely paid his very cheap rent and keep food on the table. Between jobs now, stand up comedy was all he had now for income. He’d pretty much maxed out his Visa credit card for his ticket and backstage pass to Suzy’s show. Hopefully it would be worth it. All he really needed was some kind of luck.
The author is a graduate of Humber College Summer Workshop in Comedy Writing. They have seven other self-published books on major bookstore websites in comedy,fiction, and help genres. They have been writing for websites, newsletters, and have had opinions quoted in local and national papers. The author lives north of Toronto near Wonderland, a 40 km (25 mile) commute takes over an hour each way. An avid fan of Formula one racing that goes curling for leisure, and also enjoys a good book or movie when they get a chance.