Dream of: 25
January 2006 "Fake Actor"While I was in the kitchen/dining room of the House in Patriot, my mother was entertaining some female guests in the front living room. She had earlier come back and informed me that she had told her guests that I was an actor and that I had acted in several movies. Her prevarication seemed out of character for her, but I didn't say anything about it.
After quite a while, the guests began departing, and I finally decided to go into the front living room and see who remained. I walked in and found four or five women (probably in their 30s and 40s) still in the room. A couple were rather attractive. Since I wanted to know how the little meeting had gone, I stood next to one woman and asked, "How'd it go?"
The woman (about 40 years old) began amiably talking to me. I immediately liked her. She asked me if I was an actor. I didn't want to go along with the lie, but my mother had me in so deep, I felt obliged. My mother even had empty boxes of five or six VHS movies (in which I was supposed to have appeared) hanging on a string in the room, like clothes hanging from a clothes line.
So I told the woman I was indeed an actor. I told her, however, that I had only been in three or four movies. I tried to think of what else I should say to support my lie. I thought I would tell her the movies hadn't been important ones, even though I thought I would say I had been the star in a couple of them. I thought I would tell her the movies had been low-budget, and then I tried to compute what would qualify as low-budget -- I figured I would say they had been $20-$30 million.
Before I could continue with my lies, however, the woman asked me if she could have a copy of one of the movies. I responded, "Yeah, if you want to pay for it."
I thought if she had to pay, she wouldn't badger me for a copy. I told her I wasn't even sure I was going to continue to be an actor, that I might do something else. I wasn't sure whether she knew I was also a lawyer. I blurted out, "I'm 53."
That sounded old to me. It was getting a little late in life to not even know what I was going to do, whether I was going to act any more or not.
I asked the woman how old she was and she responded, "Twenty-three."
I looked at her - she looked at least 40. I told her I knew that couldn't be true. I asked, "When were you born."
She had to stop and think and finally she blurted out, "1910."
I said, "That's more like it."
I didn't want to insult her, but I knew she wasn't 23.
She and the other women were preparing to leave. They were also planning to take a trip somewhere which sounded like a place in the Far East, perhaps Hong Kong. Apparently they were simply traveling around from place to place. I thought I would probably never see them again. It occurred to me that perhaps I should simply go with them. Traveling with them should be pleasant. Leaving with them, however, (as pleasant as it seemed) didn't seem feasible.
Copyright 2012 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com
