Lizzy Hated Pantyhose

The first novel by Teri (aka The Cynical Tyrant) is now available online for your reading pleasure. I've posted it a chapter at a time, and conveniently listed each chapter to the right.

I want to make it available to those who kept up with the posts and excerpts along the way, and for my friends who have expressed interest in reading my novel and who also need something to do at work. What could be better than reading a novel by me, in lieu of actual work?

I trust that anyone reading the novel online will be so kind as to not steal it, you won't try to print or publish it under anyone's name, you will not print it out and distribute it in mass quantities, or do anything else sneaky, underhanded, mean, dishonest, or just plain rude. This novel and all words included in what I consider my novel are mine. The story, the words, the idea, everything - all mine. Don't abuse that.

I provide the novel now as a courtesy, free of charge. But, read it while you can. It won't be here forever. I will be working to see what I can do with it. And under the advice of my 'editor', it's been suggested that if I want to become a famous, and better yet, paid writer, I should quit giving my stuff away for free.

In transferring the text from a document to the web, some editing was necessary. I may have missed some things. You will likely notice typos, poor grammar in places, continuity issues, and an asundry of other odd mishaps amongst the text of my novel. Keep in mind, this novel has not been through a real editing process. I have picked up a few corrections here and there. But I have yet to actually re-read it from start to finish. Trust me, it still needs some work.

But I present it to you now, in its raw form. I hope the errors will prove unique and entertaining, rather than a distraction to you as you read.

Without further delay, I start you with the Introduction, and wish you a pleasant journey as you begin Lizzy Hated Pantyhose.

Thanks for reading. I hope you don't hate it.

C.T.

From the author

The story you are about to read was written between the days of November 4 and November 25, 2003, as participation in NaNoWriMo 2003. NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is a contest created as an excuse for participants to complete a 50,000-word novel during the thirty days of November. The final word count for Lizzy Hated Pantyhose is 51,571 words, written entirely within the 22 days mentioned above. By surpassing 50,000 words within the thirty-day span of the contest, this novel and the author are officially considered one of the many winners of NaNoWriMo.

This novel has been through very little proofreading, editing, or research. Any typos, grammar problems, or other inconsistencies within the text are unique to the first edition of this story. The goal was to finish the story, surpassing the required number of words, all before the deadline. The result is a novel that is almost entirely a first draft, written in sequence, original and pure in form. Hopefully it reads in a way that makes some sort of sense. If not, I still had a whole lot of fun writing it.

Points of interest pertaining to my first novel include a tribute to my sister. We never called her Lizzy, but it felt appropriate to include some small homage in the name of my lead character. I also point out that Lizzy’s last name of Talbot means ‘wise dreamer’, which I stumbled upon by accident. Hopefully you will understand that tidbit of trivia as relevant to the plot while you read. Lastly, I’ve spent many hours watching television throughout my lifetime, unknowingly dedicated and preparing for this very novel at this very time. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: television is good for the creative process.

Thus concludes my points of interest about the ‘research’ and ‘planning’ for Lizzy Hated Pantyhose.

With that I urge you, please read.

Writing on,
Teri Hebert

www.nanowrimo.org


Lizzy Hated Pantyhose, 2003
First Edition
All content contained within these pages is the original work of Teri Hebert, and hereby belongs to her in its entirety.

Lizzy hated pantyhose. Really, she thought. What good are they?

As she struggled, sitting on the edge of her bed with the nude-colored pantyhose she was half-heartedly attempting to get over the heel of her foot, she quietly cursed the inventor of the torturous contraption known today as pantyhose. Why must he insist on making life so hard for women who are simply trying to get dressed in the morning? She fumbled with the hose for another minute before triumphantly pulling them up above her knee.

“There. Finally!” she breathed, before noticing the foot-long run waiting patiently right there along her calf in the middle of the hose she had just fought with.

“Crap.” With a beaten down sigh, she tore off the hose, which naturally came off much easier than they went on, and she stood to peer into her closet. The run in her last good pair of hose had now forced a wardrobe change.

“Pants. Must find pants,” she muttered, sifting through the suits in the back of her closet. She preferred pants, anyway.
Pantyhose were the reason she didn’t go on more job interviews. In all reality, she would be much more excited about booking a slew of interviews on a regular basis, if it weren’t for the pantyhose holding her back.

Pantyhose were keeping her from finding the job she deserved.

Today was another in a long line of job interviews for Lizzy. It was routine by now. Formulaic. In order to find the job she wanted, she had to actively look for work. This meant she had to endure interview after interview, even if the jobs weren’t jobs she actually wanted.

But then again, when she really thought about it, she couldn’t think of a job she really wanted. Lizzy was fairly certain the job for her didn’t exist, and she wouldn’t really fit any job that does exist.

Her current job was something she didn’t enjoy. Sure, it paid the bills. And they didn’t flog her or keep her sweating away performing heavy labor in a cave without food or sunlight for days on end. But when she thought of anything she’d rather be doing, going to her job everyday wasn’t it.

She found some pants and a jacket that matched, and finished getting dressed for the day. The trick was to find something she could wear to work that wouldn’t indicate she had a job interview later, yet would transform easily into a fabulous power suit that would impress her future employer. Forget the impressive resume, wonderful personality, and unbelievable skills. Your suit tells us we should hire you right now! And, we’ll even triple your salary request! You just look so good in that suit!

Lizzy sighed another weighted sigh. “If only that were true,” she mused to herself, tripping over one shoe as she struggled to walk and put on the other shoe at the same time. She caught herself by bumping into the doorway, and told herself, “Lizzy, you are sooo classy. I don’t understand why people aren’t stalking you to work for them . . .”

Slightly bruised, looking worn and mostly mediocre, she headed to work. Soon it was time for her interview, so she slipped out for an ‘appointment’ and headed to the office of her potential future employer.

Lizzy wasn’t good at interviews. She never came across well on first impression. Even though she tried to remove herself from the situation to help her nerves, she always got nervous. She was overly cheerful and agreeable, hoping to mask disinterest with genuine infatuation of wherever the potential job was that day. Her voice would become scratchy, but she would always refuse water when it was offered, for some reason. She was trying to be polite and non-demanding, she supposed. Lizzy estimated she appeared as a flighty, husky-voiced, runny-pantyhose wearing freak on most occasions.

She never knew what to do in the waiting area. The ‘How To Interview Well’ books told her to engage the receptionist in conversation. But she never felt comfortable doing that. Besides, they always looked really busy waiting for the phone to ring while staring back at Lizzy.

All the interviews were the same. She would stand up, fumbling with her purse while trying to shake hands with the interviewer when they first greeted each other. It always looked awkward, she knew. But unfortunately, she was typically an awkward person. Her name wasn’t Grace by accident.

Then the interview would begin with mundane pleasantries. The interviewer would talk about the job, and Lizzy would nod as appropriate and feign more genuine interest. Soon the interviewer would stop talking and ask Lizzy if she had any questions. Lizzy never did.

She knew pretty much all she needed to know. Jobs just weren’t for her.

The interviews would end and a pleasant exchange would take place as she was ushered out the door. The interviewer would promise to let her know, and Lizzy would answer back that she looked forward to hearing from him. More often than not, that was the last she ever heard from anyone. What is with employers not calling people back these days? Lizzy hated that. Even a letdown is better than hearing nothing at all. The more times she heard nothing, the more Lizzy wondered if she even had the interviews at all. Maybe she hallucinated all of them . . .

Would she ever be excited about a job again? Was she doomed to either be stuck in a job she doesn’t like forever, or forced to choose between other jobs that she can’t get excited about? Lizzy was frustrated. This isn’t the way she thought her life would be. According to her timetable from high school, she should be very rich and famous by now. Definitely a famous celebrity of some sort, or at least independently wealthy and living on a tropical island somewhere, spending her days on the beach or freeing poor children forced to manufacture pantyhose in rat-infested sweatshops. What had gone wrong?

Lizzy felt like she had missed her calling in life. She was still young, not quite thirty years old, with a few years to go until that milestone. How could she be having a mid-life crisis so soon? She’d always been ahead of her time in regards to most things. But freaking out and losing the will to get out of bed everyday from sheer boredom and the fear of impending job doom was not something she should be doing so soon. Besides, she’d calculated she had at least seven years before she should throw in the towel on a successful career.

“So, what’s the problem?” she wondered aloud, sitting at home on the couch for the evening. The earlier interview and the consequential workday that surrounded the interview had left her tired and uninterested in doing much the rest of the day. Her best friend, Blue Bell Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream sat with her, dulling the pain of not knowing her place in the world. Blue Bell didn’t answer her question. So, Lizzy decided the best thing to do was turn on the TV and just let the question hang in the air for awhile.

It was times like this that Lizzy was thankful for television. Sure, she had friends. They were supportive and fun and caring and there for her when she needed them. But sometimes, television was the best comfort. It entertained her, intrigued her, took her to far away places and into the lives of people other than herself. Lizzy often felt that television was the answer to all of her problems. At least in the sense that it never let her down, and it always offered something as an escape when she desperately needed to get away from her jumbled head. She could always depend on TV for what she needed most: distraction.

She flipped through the channels, looking for nothing in particular but knowing she’d know what she was looking for when she saw it. She passed by sitcoms and dramas and anything scripted. Sure, she enjoyed stories and casts of characters, plots and laughs and tears and drama. But her latest love on the tube was reality television. The drama and laughs in these shows were unscripted, and that’s what made it most appealing to Lizzy. Her life was completely random on any given day, depending on whatever pickle she found herself in and the means required to get herself out of it. But watching the randomness of real people on TV was much more entertaining than her own unpredictable life, and more non-threatening on a personal level. She could watch others freak out in the comfort of her own home, with Blue Bell, safe and feeling far superior to the charades she witnessed, yet not completely un-jealous of what she saw on screen.

Lizzy enjoyed a wide variety of reality television shows. But she couldn’t claim to like all of them. Her longtime favorite was Survivor, having been won over by that show from the beginning. She was fascinated with travel and seeing exotic places, and also the challenge of surviving in the wild in an attempt to win money. Truly, the only thing that kept her from jetting off to do a season of Survivor herself was the reality that if her luxury item was her dear friend Blue Bell, it would not last thirty-nine days without refrigeration. That’s a bit of reality TV she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle in front of a national audience.

She also enjoyed The Bachelor, mostly due to her chance encounter with one of the Bachelors himself. Well, it was an ‘almost’ chance encounter. Lizzy was pretty sure she saw him across the airport one time, but it may have just been a man-ish woman wearing a jacket similar to the one the Bachelor wore, and which she had memorized by watching every second of the show that season. Still, Blue Bell assured her that she would receive a rose in the mail any day now. She felt it to be true, in her heart. She and the Bachelor had made a connection that day in the airport.

But, even with the zillions of reality shows on the air these days, Lizzy’s latest and possibly truest favorite of them all was Newlyweds. Oh, whatever had she done before Nick and Jessica entered her life? She dared not think back to life without The Jessica. Truthfully, Lizzy knew she and Jessica were destined to be friends someday. Not in a weird stalking way, but just in that chance encounter of happening to live next door to Nick & Jessica one day when she becomes rich and famous.

Lizzy knew it was only a matter of time before she was discovered and thrust into the limelight of millions of adoring fans and great fortune. “If these other reality TV people can do it, why can’t I? Heck, if Jessica Simpson can become even more famous by letting cameras follow her throughout her ‘glamorous’ life, I can certainly make the same thing work for me,” she said aloud, in a pep talk sort of way. “In fact, I don’t need a new job, I need a reality show! If I did have one, it would be the best.” The Jessica would actually be stalking Lizzy one day, pleading for a guest appearance on Lizzy’s show, she felt certain.

Excited about her newfound enthusiasm to think outside the perpetually disappointing job search box, Lizzy turned her focus back to the research she would need to one day develop her own reality show: the TV. Monday night reality TV is slim pickins’, Lizzy thought. She wandered aimlessly through the channels, then stopped on a new show that caught her eye, Average Joe. Oh no, she thought. What a horrible show! A beautiful girl forced to choose true love from a crew of nerds and bullies? This can’t be good.

She watched enough of the show to see that it was pretty much the cruelest show she’d ever seen, and definitely not one of her favorites. Average Joe had nothing on Newlyweds. She would not be adding Joe to her weekly reality television-viewing schedule.

Yawning and looking at the clock, Lizzy decided it was time for bed. She clicked off the TV, put Blue Bell away for the night, and stumbled down the hall towards her bedroom. The weather had turned cold as of late. Lizzy hurried into her flannel pajamas and scurried under the two blankets and the comforter on her bed. She snuggled in for a good night of sleep and the opportunity to dream of better things before the alarm would wake her back into the routine of her life at a job she’d prefer were something other than that particular job.

Lizzy switched off the light, wondering what kind of light Jessica Simpson had beside her bed, and if she knew how to turn it off without using The Clapper.

The sound of knocking woke Lizzy with a start. She opened her eyes but couldn’t see anything. She realized she was snuggled deep under the covers of her bed, with her head completely covered. She must have been dreaming. No one else was in the house, so there couldn’t have been anyone knocking on her bedroom door.

She rolled over under the covers and sighed a sigh of extreme comfort, noting how extra comfortable her bed seemed at the moment, and how soft and plush her covers felt.

“What a great bed I have,” she mumbled, still not fully awake and trying to make sure a state of full awake-ness didn’t happen, yet. She still had time before her alarm was supposed to go off, and she wanted to savor every sleepy moment in her favorite spot in her bed. A bed that she noticed felt strangely much bigger than usual during these early hours of the morning.

Lizzy still hadn’t poked her head out of the covers when she heard the knocking on her door again. Her eyes popped open with a start, and she sat straight up in bed. What was going on?

She pulled the bed covers off of her head, rubbed her eyes and looked around the room. A room, incidentally, that wasn’t her bedroom as she remembered it from every night prior to this morning. “Um . . . what the . . .,” she thought.
Again, she heard knocking, and this time the door opened briskly and a woman poked her head in. Lizzy stared at the woman.

“Lizzy. Hi. Good morning. I’ve been knocking. Why aren’t you up, yet? Are you okay? Yes? Good. We’ll need you downstairs for breakfast in an hour, then we’ll have promos shot by the pool starting at 9:00. Swimsuit, then casual wear. Can I get you anything? No? Good. See you in an hour.”

The woman was way too chipper for this early in the morning and for such a bizarre entrance into Lizzy’s current world of confusion. She smiled insincerely at Lizzy, as though smiling at Lizzy emphasized her chipper announcement as something really important, then she ducked back out the door, closing it quickly behind her. The room was quiet again.

“Who? What? Huh?” Lizzy stared blankly at the closed door, and asked these questions of the closed door. The door offered nothing in response or explanation. She thought for a moment, and determined this scenario still wasn’t making sense. Pool? She didn’t have a pool, that she knew of. And she definitely never wore a swimsuit at nine in the morning.

She stopped staring at the still closed door, and she began to slowly take in the room around her. It was a beautiful room, filled with flowing curtains and fashionable furniture. Large windows let in streams of warm sunlight, and the marble floor reflected the light in a soft, inviting way. The bed she was still in was huge, at least a king size, layered with puffy white sheets and blankets and pillows.

Suddenly, she realized she was probably in someone else’s bed. She jumped up, put her feet on the floor, and spun around to get a better look at the bed. It was gorgeous, and definitely not a guy’s bed. She stopped and listened for a second, determining that she was alone in the room, and had apparently just spent the night alone in a really fabulous, fluffy bed of unknown origin.

“At least I haven’t completely lost my mind,” she muttered, thankfully finding herself alone and not with a strange man in a nice hotel room in a place she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She had never done that before, and she didn’t intend to start now, wherever she was.

Lizzy looked at the clock and noticed the hour warning before breakfast was slipping away, if in fact that was anything she needed to take seriously. She needed to figure out what was going on before Miss Chipper popped her head back in with another strange announcement. Breakfast? On purpose? Lizzy had never heard of such a thing.

Clothes. This would be a good first step. With clothes, she could then feel more herself and sensible. Then things would surely begin to fall into place.

Wait. Shower first. Then clothes. A whiff of her morning body aroma reminded Lizzy that she should get cleaned up before she put on . . . the most amazing clothes she had ever seen. Lizzy found herself standing in the largest walk-in closet known to woman, staring at the most amazing array of clothing she’d ever seen, noticeably complete without a single pair of pantyhose anywhere to be found. Where did all of these clothes come from? These were definitely not her clothes, and this was definitely not her closet.

Lizzy bolted back out of the closet and into the bedroom again. She was breathing heavily and also found herself a little jittery. Obviously she had completely lost her mind, robbed a bank, run away to a secluded mansion, and spent all of the stolen money on a big bed, too many expensive clothes, and a chipper assistant to remind her to eat breakfast before swimming.

Lizzy sat down in a velvety soft, overstuffed chair to think things over. As strange as the situation was becoming, she had to admit that it wasn’t too shabby for a bizarro world. And in all reality, it seemed strangely familiar. She knew this was impossible, but still, something about it was oddly familiar, in a déjà vu sort of way.

The phone rang beside the bed. Startled, Lizzy heaved herself out of the comfortable chair and walked across the room to the phone, noting that she was crossing a room roughly equivalent to the size of her entire house. She cautiously picked up the phone just as it rang again.

“Hello?”

“Lizzy! Are you up, yet?” came the chipper voice she’d heard earlier at the bedroom door. “Have you not looked at your schedule for today? Well, it doesn’t matter because I have some changes to the schedule. After breakfast, which will now be brought up to your room because I’ve had to cancel breakfast to fit everything in today, you have an interview with Entertainment Tonight. Now, we still have to squeeze in the swimsuit promo shoot before we start taping at 11:00, so you’ll need to dress for a casual interview walk around the grounds of the mansion with Charlie from The Bachelorette, who for some reason is now a correspondent for E.T. Then you’ll have about ten minutes to change into swimwear AND get through hair and makeup before the pool shoot. Lizzy, are you listening to me? We’ve got to move, sweetie. Wake up, and get going!”

“I, um . . . ”

“That’s better. See you in thirty minutes, downstairs.” Miss Chipper hung up. Lizzy stared at the phone in her hands. Entertainment Tonight?

Whatever was going on, Lizzy knew she needed a shower to clear her head. She hurried into the bathroom and quickly showered. She picked out the nicest set of casual clothes she’d ever seen, noting that her entire wardrobe at home (wherever that might be) probably didn’t cost as much as the jeans, shirt, and shoes she wore right then. Checking herself in the mirror, she put on some of the makeup she found in the medicine cabinet, brushed through her hair, and headed out the bedroom door. Into what, she had no idea. She half expected to fall into a black hole after walking outside of the bedroom.

Before attempting to walk through the Door of Unusual Possibilities, she did pause for a minute to grab one of the bagels sitting on the tray of food that had mysteriously appeared near the nightstand while she was in the shower. As weird as this was, Lizzy knew deep down that she could get used to this sort of life if she happened to never snap back into her own reality. Well, she could do without Miss Chipper rudely waking her and telling her what to do all morning. But other than that, she could stand to live with the big bed and the nice clothes. And the magically appearing bagels.

Wherever she was, the bagels were a nice touch.

Once outside the bedroom, Lizzy found herself on the second floor of a huge mansion. She’d heard Miss Chipper mention ‘mansion’ on the phone, but she hadn’t realized that she was currently inside the mansion of which Miss Chipper spoke.

She stared up at the ceiling, then down to the first floor, in mid chew of a big bite of bagel. She saw ornate furniture, decorative lighting, and lots and lots of big, open windows letting sunlight stream inside. A marble stairway landed downstairs to greet beautiful hardwood floors adorned with what Lizzy could only assume were imported Persian rugs. She’d never seen a Persian rug before, but she figured a mansion like this would likely have nice Persian rugs. Persian rugs, they were, she decided.

“Lizzy! Get down here!” Miss Chipper was downstairs frantically waving at Lizzy to come down the stairs. Lizzy stared down at her with the piece of bagel still in her mouth.

Miss Chipper hurried up the stairs and grabbed Lizzy by the hand to lead her down the marble stairway. “I’m worried about you today, Lizzy. Are you with us? This is the most exciting time of your life, and I’m thinking you’d rather be elsewhere! What is that on your face? Haven’t we been over this? Hair and makeup does your hair and makeup. Now we have to redo what you’ve done here. Are we sure this shirt goes with these jeans? Well, it’s too late to change now. Bob Goen is already here with the E.T. crew. They said they were sending Charlie, but now we’ve got Bob. We have to get started with that interview right away or we’ll have to shorten the promo session to make sure you aren’t late to the group Water Ski date with the bachelors. Four of them are already complaining that they are too sunburned already, and one of them had an asthma attack and broke out in hives last night after you kissed him on the cheek. I swear, whoever thought up this idea of bringing nerds together with the bold and beautiful will certainly have a lawsuit on his hands before the show is done taping!”

Miss Chipper jabbered on a mile a minute, making it hard for Lizzy to keep up with the one-sided conversation. But something about what Miss Chipper had just said reinforced Lizzy’s earlier feeling that this was all strangely familiar. Nerds? Group date? Promos? Bob Goen? Could this be possible?

“Hi, Lizzy. I’m Bob Goen. You may remember me from such television shows as Entertainment Tonight.” Lizzy’s hand was being shaken by none other than Bob Goen, of Entertainment Tonight. She dropped the bagel in her other hand and wiped the crumbs from her face. Bob Goen was shaking her hand.

“Hi, Bob. Nice to meet you,” Lizzy managed. Miss Chipper directed her to a chair where two people promptly attacked her with makeup and hairspray. She barely had time to notice how great she looked in the mirror, noting that their interpretation of ‘hair and makeup’ was much better than her lame attempt a few minutes earlier upstairs in the bathroom. Miss Chipper grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the chair. Wait! I’m so pretty!

From then on, the interview was a blur. She and Bob Goen walked around the mansion, followed by a camera crew. He asked Lizzy questions about the bachelors and what she was looking for in a man. Lizzy knew she answered the questions because Bob kept smiling and nodding and asking more questions, but she really had no idea what she was saying. But strangely, it all felt very natural. It was almost like she was supposed to be there, in front of the cameras, on a show that would be seen that evening by a national television audience.

And then, she figured it out. Average Joe! She was the bachelorette on Average Joe! Lizzy had somehow landed herself as the lucky lady on the reality show where she would be forced to choose from nerds and bullies. But how could this be happening?

As she sat back in the hair and makeup chair following her in-depth interview with Bob Goen, Lizzy tried to make sense of what was going on. But strangely, she felt like she was in the right place. In fact, she didn’t feel like she had woken up in a strange bed in a strange room this morning after all. She was on Average Joe, and she always had been. She had waited her whole life to find a soul mate, and she knew that when she was chosen as the bachelorette for this reality show, this was her moment to find the one she was looking for.

Sure, at first she was caught off guard and a very shocked to see the bus load of nerds and bullies show up in place of the handsome bachelors she was expecting last night, but when she really thought about it, personality was much more important to her than looks. Maybe it was a cruel trick by the network to see what would happen when nerds have the opportunity to win the heart of the Barbie dream girl they’ve always wanted but were never allowed near. But in all reality, Lizzy knew she was in the right place, and this show was all about her. This was her moment.

“Um, Trixie?” Lizzy called to Miss Chipper, who seemed to go by the name of Trixie when spoken to by others. “I’m thinking I want my hair up for the swimsuit shots. It goes better with the neckline of my bikini.”

“Fabulous!” Trixie responded in jubilation. “That’s my girl! You heard her! Hair up, not down. And hurry! Cameras roll in five minutes!”

Lizzy looked over to the chair next to hers. “Hi, Kathy. Good to see you this morning.” Kathy Griffin looked back at her, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Getting hair and makeup done at a beautiful mansion with Kathy Griffin before jet setting off to spend an afternoon water skiing with a bunch of nerdy guys.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity. Lizzy strolled along the side of the pool, and the cameras watched. She lounged in a chair to get some sun, and the cameras watched. Later she sat and did a one-on-one confessional with the camera, after changing into a playful casual outfit, of course. She talked about the bachelors and her first impressions. She mused about which one she liked after the first night of the party. And she lamented having to choose four men to leave already.

“Truly,” she said to the camera, “I am in this to find a soul mate. I’ve seen a few guys here that I would actually like to date, even if they aren’t the perfect handsome guy I’ve pictured in my dreams for all these years. I don’t feel like I’d be settling for less if something happens with one of them. But we’ll just have to see how things go. I’m looking forward to spending time with them today on our group date.”

After her morning shoots, Lizzy was whisked away in a limo to a boat at a marina. There, she met the remaining twelve bachelors for a day on the lake. Lizzy was quite sure she had never been on water skis before, but she joined in and was surprisingly good at it for her first time. And the cameras followed her every move.

That evening came the next elimination ceremony. While up in her bedroom, preparing for the evening, she took a moment to look pensive and ponder the tough decision she was about to face. She spoke out loud, even though no one was in the room with her. She went through her thoughts about each bachelor, and made sure to stay busy choosing her dress for the evening.

Before she went downstairs to the elimination ceremony, she had another session with the cameras for a confessional. She didn’t know why, but Lizzy shed a few tears as she talked about the guys and how endearing they were. Sure, they were a bunch of nerds and bullies with the social graces of a rampant boar, but somehow she was falling for a few of them. Tonight’s decision would be the hardest decision she’d ever had to make.

After an emotional elimination ceremony, during which three of the bachelors cried more than she did and one of them actually threw up off camera, Lizzy felt a sense of relief and excitement. She was looking forward to more intimate moments with the bachelors she knew she had a connection with, and more than ever she felt that this was exactly where she was supposed to be at this moment. In front of the cameras, looking for love.

Trixie briefed Lizzy on her schedule for tomorrow. The guys had been shuttled off to their bachelor pad. After a busy day of interviews and taping, Lizzy headed up the marble staircase to her big, fluffy bed.

She tumbled out of the dress she had stuffed herself into, neatly hung it back up in the closet with the seventeen other evening gown dresses waiting for future tapings, and she crawled back into her flannel pajamas. Her familiar, flannel pajamas, always there to comfort her at the end of a long, emotional, love-hunting day of television.

The king sized bed called to her. Taking a running leap from across the room, Lizzy toppled into the blankets and sheets, snuggling in once again for another blissful night of sleep in her big bed, in a big room, in a big mansion. A mansion of love. . .

Average Joe, where are you . . .

The screeching alarm pierced through the quiet and startled Lizzy off the edge of the bed and onto the floor. Scrambling to sit upright and reaching to shut of the alarm at the same time, she hit her head on the nightstand and landed in a crumpled heap, halfway underneath the bed. Fortunately, she’d managed to pull the alarm clock off the nightstand and had landed right on top of it, shutting it off with great force. Possibly off forever, Lizzy rumbled, feeling the hard plastic clock now lodged in her rib cage. But it’s quiet now, and that’s all that matters, she concluded.

She pulled herself out from underneath the bed, and noticed it was much smaller than it had been when she went to sleep under the fluffy covers in the big room, in the big mansion. Wait a minute . . .

Lizzy cautiously stood to her feet, shoved the hair out of her eyes, and looked around. She steadied herself by leaning up against the wall, and she noticed that the wall was a wall she had painted herself when she first moved into the house. Her house. A house that was definitely not in any way, shape, or form, a mansion.

No way had she dreamed all of that! Bob Goen? Kathy Griffin? Average Joe? Joe, where are you?

Was she really awake now? She quickly turned to head down the hall towards the TV, and was rewarded by a sharp pain in her foot as she stubbed her toe on the doorway. Yelling at the doorway, she hobbled out of the bedroom and into the living room. She turned on the TV, hoping for some clue as to what was going on. Television was the answer to everything. Hopefully, it was the answer to whatever the heck was going on with Lizzy right now.

The local news channel told her it was Wednesday. What happened to Tuesday? Had she really slept through it? Had she really had a dream that lasted an entire day?

Suddenly, something on the news caught her attention. It was a breaking news story about the star of Average Joe. Lizzy turned up the volume of the TV because she wasn’t quite sure she heard correctly what the news anchor was saying.

“No one can ever predict the twists and turns of a reality television show,“ the anchor began. “But not even the producers of Average Joe know what happened this time, when the star of the show, Lizzy Talbot, mysteriously disappeared overnight. A representative of the show said Lizzy may have indicated that she was in love with all of the bachelors on the show, being unable to choose just one bachelor. In lieu of her disappearance, seven of the remaining eight bachelors called their moms to come pick them up, vowing never again to look for love from a ‘real, live hot chick.’ Producers of Average Joe have decided that in the absence of a leading lady and now missing the majority of bachelors, the show has been cancelled for the rest of the season. The show was not a total loss, however, as the one remaining bachelor did manage to find what he was looking for. Stage Manager Trixie and a bachelor actually going by the name of Joe will wed this weekend in Las Vegas. Best of luck to them.”

Lizzy stared at the screen as a photo of herself stared back at her.

“This can not be happening.”

The phone rang, jolting Lizzy back to reality. Or what she hoped might be reality. It is entirely not possible that she just saw what she saw on TV, she thought. There is no way I am the star of Average Joe. I hate that show!

The phone rang again, annoyingly requesting her to answer it. Lizzy reached for the phone, then hesitated for a second, half-expecting to pick it up and find Trixie yelling at her on the other end.

“Hello?” she asked timidly into the receiver.

“Lizzy? This is your mother. What is going on? I just saw you on TV, and now I hear that you’re missing? Do I need to let them know I found you? Did one of those nice boys try to take advantage of you so that you had to escape? I told you not to go on that show. You just never know what kind of people they’ll recruit for a show like that. Lizzy? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

“Mom!” Lizzy needed her mom to stop talking for a minute so she could think. “Mom, what are you talking about? I haven’t been on a TV show. It’s a mistake! That news report is really messed up, and I don’t know how they got that picture of me, or that camera footage of me, either, now that I think of it. I’m home. I’m fine. I don’t know who is playing a joke on me, but I swear I did not go on a TV show with a bunch of nerds and bullies, looking for love. In fact, just last night I was watching Average Joe and noticing how much I hate that show! Why would I be on it?”

“Lizzy, what are you talking about? How did you get home so fast? Weren’t you just in L.A. last night? We took you to the airport, your father and I, a few weeks ago. You were very excited about the show, even though we didn’t think it was a good idea. But we wanted to support your dreams, and we definitely want some grandchildren sometime before we’re too old to see them. Of course, we’ve always thought Johnny Roberts from next door was perfect for you. We just don’t understand why you feel you needed to go on TV to find a boyfriend when Johnny has had his eye on you ever since you both were in second grade . . ."

“MOM! I don’t believe this! First, Johnny is twenty-seven years old and he still lives next door to you, with his parents. Doesn’t that tell you something?? Not to mention, I never liked him since the third grade when he chased me around the playground trying to put boogers in my hair. I am never going to end up with Johnny Roberts from next door, Mom. Get over it.”

Lizzy was thoroughly confused at this point. And her mom wasn’t helping matters any. In fact, her mom was making things much more jumbled and chaotic. Why doesn’t anything make sense?

“Mom. Will you please tell me what’s going on? I’m really not in the mood for a practical joke, and this has gone on long enough. Is it really Wednesday? I mean, this joke has cost me a day of work, and I’m sure my boss is wondering where I was yesterday. If you’re in on this, will you please tell whoever is in charge to stop it already? Ha ha, joke is on me. But enough already.”

For the first time that she could remember, Lizzy actually wanted to get to work. She wanted to get back to something normal, something routine, something not on TV. Even if that meant . . . her job.

“Lizzy, are you sure you’re okay? I don’t understand what you’re talking about. What joke? What job? Honey, you quit your job two months ago so you could go on this reality show. Remember? You didn’t like your job anyway, so once you got onto the show you just decided to quit. I’m sorry, sweetie, but they probably aren’t missing you since you don’t work there anymore. Now, if you want to find a new job, I believe Johnny’s parents might have a management position available in their shoe store. Want me to give them a call?”

Suddenly, Lizzy felt ill. Dizzy. Not well. Quit her job? Sure, she didn’t like her job, but why would she quit it without having another job to go to? She’s not insane! Or is she?

“Lizzy? Did you hear me? I’ll give Johnny’s parents a call. You could probably start there this afternoon. I’ll tell them you don’t know anything about selling orthopedic gymnastic shoes, but I’m sure they won’t mind. They know you, and they know you’re a quick learner. Remember that time Johnny got himself stuck in the attic crawl space? You both were just nine years old, but if you hadn’t figured out how to lower peanuts down to him one by one, he probably would have starved to death before his parents got home to dig him out. I tell you, if they don’t hire you today, they certainly aren’t grateful enough to you for saving Johnny’s life that day!”

Lizzy groaned loud enough for her mom to hear her over the phone.

“Mom, you know what? I’m actually not feeling well right now. Please don’t call Johnny’s parents. Really, that job should go to a professional orthopedic gymnastic shoe salesperson. I’ll figure something out later, another job, something. But right now I think I need to lie down for awhile.”

“Well, okay honey, but don’t wait too . . ."

“Bye, mom. Thanks for calling.” Lizzy hung up the phone, cutting her mom off in mid-sentence. She stared into space for a long time.

Somehow, this all had to be a very weird dream. Not a bad dream, exactly. But just a very weird, very life-like dream. There was no other possible explanation for going to bed one night, missing an entire day, and somehow having been the star of a reality show during that missing day. But, how to wake up was the real question. Lizzy was a deep sleeper, but definitely not that deep.

She decided to shower, then go from there. Surely after a shower, things would make much more sense. If nothing else, a blast of cold water would wake her up. It was entirely possible that she was sleepwalking, and that would be one explanation that would explain everything. Well, almost everything.

Lizzy stepped into the shower and stood under the water for awhile. She was trying not to think, but her brain wouldn’t quit racing. Somehow, she had to make sense of the last day. She was missing something, but what that was, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

She got out of the shower, dried off, and got dressed. Not into work clothes, but into her most comfortable pair of sweats. She didn’t feel like going out of the house today, reasoning that if she was going crazy, she would do best not to inflict that onto the population at large. If she couldn’t figure out what had happened within the last twenty-four hours, the safest thing was probably to stay in the house, in familiar territory, until something began to make sense.
Once dressed and fairly certain things were still the same as they were before her shower, Lizzy made her way to the kitchen. It was almost noon and she hadn’t had anything to eat, yet. Food would be a good thing, she thought. Even if she was crazy, she could still enjoy a nice lunch.

The phone continued to ring throughout the morning and into the afternoon. Lizzy wasn’t brave enough to answer it, especially after hearing the first few messages left on her answering machine. She was certain after several hours that everyone she had ever known had called to see what was going on and which Average Joe bachelor was the one she really liked, yet she continued to let the machine handle the calls. By late afternoon, the tape in the machine had run out of space, filled with a mixture of familiar voices and the strange, excited voices of media people calling her for interviews. Lizzy had run out of tolerance for the constant ringing. She unplugged the phone from the wall, and settled into the couch to do some serious thinking.

“Aha!” she almost yelled, as a thought popped into her head. The phone! The thing that had been ringing all day could provide at least one answer to the increasingly long list of questions around the situation. Even though her mom had mentioned earlier that Lizzy had quit her job, she decided she should call her work and talk to her boss. Her mom clearly didn’t know what she was talking about, and in all the activity of the morning, Lizzy had forgotten that if she does actually have a job, she should let her boss know that she would be in tomorrow. Whatever was going on would certainly have passed by then, Lizzy felt sure.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number to her office. The receptionist answered.

“VanClark and Associates. How may I direct your call?”

“Hi, Mandy. Is Joan in?”

“Miss vanClark? Um, may I ask who’s calling?”

“Mandy. It’s me. Lizzy. I need to talk to Joan. Right now, if she’s not busy.”

“Ma’am, can I get a last name? And who are you with?”

“Mandy! Come on. It’s Lizzy Talbot? Just let me talk to Joan, if you don’t mind. It’s kind of important.”

“I’ll see if she’s in, Miss Talbot. One moment please.” Mandy sounded annoyed. But annoyed in that overly-polite receptionist kind of way.

Lizzy found herself on hold, and she was beginning to get worried. Please don’t tell me my office is in on the joke, too, she thought. She’d worked at the advertising agency for almost two years. Mandy knew darn well who she was, and she wasn’t the type of receptionist who was clever enough to play games over the phone.

With a great sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Lizzy had a sneaking suspicion that Mandy really didn’t know who Lizzy Talbot was.

She heard a click on the phone, followed by a voice. “Yes, this is Joan vanClark. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Joan. It’s me, Lizzy. Look, I know I missed work yesterday and today, so I wanted to call and let you know that I came down with something really suddenly. Something very, um, unexpected. But, I will be in tomorrow . . . “

“Lizzy? Lizzy who? I’m sorry, are you sure you’re speaking to the right person? Maybe Mandy misdirected your call.”

“Joan!” Lizzy stopped for a second to make sure she wasn’t yelling at her boss over the phone. She took a deep breath and started again in a calmer tone, hoping not to alarm her boss. “Joan, I . . . “

“Wait. Lizzy Talbot?” Joan paused.

“Yes! Finally, someone is starting to make sense. Joan, I promise not to let this happen again. I just woke up not quite myself yesterday and it’s been crazy trying to figure out what’s wrong.”

“Lizzy, I appreciate the call. But I’m a little concerned.”

Lizzy’s heart started beating loud enough to echo into the phone.

“What do you mean, Joan. I’m fine. Really. Just a slight case of something odd, but I’ll be in bright and early tomorrow morning. No worries.”

“Lizzy, it’s great to hear from you, and all. We’ve definitely missed you. But you may want to get your story straight because I’m pretty sure you don’t work here anymore.”

Lizzy’s heart threatened to beat right out of her chest.

“No, Joan. Please don’t tell me that! I came home from work Monday, missed work yesterday and today, albeit it mysteriously and without a good explanation. But tomorrow I’ll be back. Just a couple of sick days! Please don’t fire me!”

“Wait, fire you? Lizzy, you quit working here three months ago. Quite unexpectedly, and without two weeks’ notice, if you’ll recall. I don’t know what you’re talking about or what you think is going on here, but you don’t need to call in sick, or tell me you’ll be back here tomorrow. You don’t work here, Lizzy. You quit to go do some TV show. Or at least that’s what you told me. How’s that going, by the way? And actually, since I have you on the phone, can you help us set up a meeting with the ad sales department for whatever network you’re on? I’ve got some clients who would be great for airtime during your show, whatever it is. You always were one of my favorite employees, by the way. Did I mention that?”

Lizzy didn’t say anything.

“Hey, wait a minute. Is this one of those practical joke shows? Lizzy? Am I on TV right now? Where’s the camera? I don’t normally like those kinds of shows, but if I can get some airtime out of the deal then I’ll forgive you this once. I can be a good sport. Lizzy?”

Lizzy hung up the phone.

For once, it seemed her mom was right. Lizzy had no job. Lizzy was the star of a reality television show.

Or at least that’s what the bizarro world would have her believe.

Lizzy felt quite certain the whole world was insane, because this absolutely could not be the way things really were. ‘Reality’ television? Lizzy could quite honestly say that the events of the past few days could not be further from reality.

She left the phone unplugged. A break, Lizzy thought. I need a break.

She sat on the couch and looked around, taking deep breaths to make sure she was still, in fact, breathing. Her eyes landed on the TV, quiet, dark, contemplating.

“Well,” she decided, “TV got me into this mess, so I might as well let it get me out of the mess for awhile.”

The room had grown dark as the sun went down outside. Lizzy noticed she’d been sitting in the dark once the TV came on and brightened up the room. She reached over and turned on a lamp, thankful for the quiet of a room filled only with the welcome sound of her television.

Television: the source of and solution to all of life’s problems. Ha, Lizzy thought. That would be a great ad slogan for television, if I still had a job at the ad agency . . .

Lizzy snuggled down under a blanket and settled in for an evening of high quality TV. She wasn’t really paying attention to what she watched, flipping through the channels as she usually did. She just watched the pretty pictures, the funny sounds, and the flickering lights. Soaking it in, relaxing, letting the tube take her away from the nonsense of her day.
Wednesday night, she thought. What comes on Wednesday nights? Ooh! The Bachelor!! Excellent . . .

For a moment she hesitated. It seemed ridiculously absurd that she would want to watch another reality show after her dream-like experience with Average Joe. But, she knew deep down that she couldn’t not watch The Bachelor. It was, after all, her duty to watch The Bachelor after her near encounter with a previous encounter. She was loyal to the show, even if who she thought was the Bachelor that day at the airport was possibly just a tall plant sticking up taller than a statue in front of a poster with a face on it, several hundred feet down a busy terminal.

She knew in her heart that it was him. And she owed it to him to watch the show from that day forward.
She checked the clock and decided to get off the couch long enough to go put her pajamas on. She was exhausted, and decided since she apparently didn’t need to get up for work in the morning, she could get into her pj’s and fall asleep on the couch, if the mood struck her.

Aaah, flannel pj’s. How I love thee, Lizzy sighed. Comfort and softness, combined to make any day end in bliss.
She returned to the couch, burrowed back underneath the blanket, and settled in for an hour with The Bachelor. Soon, the screen was filled with whiney women, a chuckling guy named Bob, and more drama than one could hope for, all crammed into sixty minutes. Pure bliss!

The best part of the show was the moment when Lizzy forgot about the peculiar situation at hand in her own reality. Yes, television had done it again. It had freed Lizzy’s mind of the burden of not knowing the truth of the day versus wildly spun tales of intrigue and mystery. And before The Bachelor was over, the television had lulled Lizzy to sleep once again, as she lay on the couch. Cozy, safe, and not a care in the world.

Snoring. She definitely heard snoring. Was she snoring? No. Then who was snoring?

Lizzy opened her eyes. She listened. Yep, that’s definitely snoring. And it wasn’t coming from her.

Her eyes took a minute to focus, and when she could see clearly she noticed that she was staring up at the ceiling, and the ceiling was different than she remembered. Of course, she didn’t usually stare up at her own ceiling, so she couldn’t be sure that the ceiling was actually different. But she felt pretty sure this ceiling did not belong in her house.

Oh no . . . , she mumbled.

Slowly, Lizzy sat up. The bed was smaller than she remembered being used to, but then again maybe she had fallen asleep on her couch. Of course, that wouldn’t explain why she now found herself sitting up in a twin-size bed in a strange room that she had never seen before, listening to the sounds of snoring coming from another similar twin-sized bed across the room.

“You have got to be kidding me, “ she hissed, throwing her legs out of bed and onto the floor. She was definitely not in the mood for another ‘Reality TV’ dream, and if this one involved a snoring nerd from Average Joe, she wanted out right now.

The room was a mess. It looked like a college girls’ dorm room, but one that happened to be inside a very nice house. The room was large, complete with nice furniture and décor, but definitely trashed as though suitcases of clothes and hair products had spontaneously combusted all over the nice things in the room.

The snoring was getting louder from across the room. Lizzy turned her attention to the person-sized lump breathing heavily underneath the covers on the other twin bed in the room. She greatly feared what she might find under there, but she also didn’t figure she could just sit on the edge of the bed that must be hers forever. She cautiously stood up and turned towards the other bed.

Noticing the clock on the nightstand read 7:30am, she decided that who or whatever was snoring in the other bed would probably be awake soon, anyway. So she might as well risk getting closer to assess the situation.

She tiptoed closer to the bed and bent over the heaving lump of blankets. Whatever was making the world’s most grotesque snoring sounds had to be the largest, most asthmatic nerd in the world, or a gigantic bear with a deviated septum. Whatever the case, the producer of the snores rattling the windows of the room where Lizzy found herself could not be entirely human.

Just then, the clock that had previously read 7:30am turned to 7:31am, and immediately emitted a high-pitched, very loud rhythmic beeping sound. The sound of the alarm scared a squeal out of Lizzy, and put an immediate stop to the snoring coming from the bed.

Lizzy took a few quick, unsteady steps back just as the creature under the covers bolted upright and flailed around under the blankets, frantically reaching for the clock on the nightstand. After pounding on a few other innocent objects sitting near the clock, the hand finally hit the clock and the noise stopped.

Both Lizzy and the creature breathed loudly for a minute, recovering from the shock of the alarm. The creature’s head was still covered with a blanket, and Lizzy watched intently as a hand reached out from under the blanket and pulled the blanket off of . . . a girl’s head.

Lizzy stared.

“What do you think you’re doing? Were you watching me sleep? Gross. Get away from me.” The girl glared at Lizzy through a mess of disheveled bed hair.

“Hmm. I bet if I tell Bob you like to watch other people sleep with that creepy look in your eye, he’ll think twice about giving you a rose tomorrow night.” The girl laughed as she untangled herself from the bed. Lizzy continued to stare and not speak as she watched the girl get out of bed and head into a bathroom adjacent to the bedroom.

Whoa, what is going on here? Lizzy looked around the room again. Lots of clothes flung all over the place, a strange girl sharing a room with her, Bob, a rose. This had all the makings of a catty episode of The Bachelor, except last time she checked, Lizzy wasn’t on that show.

The girl came back out of the bathroom. “Lizzy, if I were you, I’d take a few steps back out of my area, and go get ready for breakfast. You’re nice enough and all, but I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here to win Bob. So just back off and go creep someone else out, okay?”

She shot Lizzy a snobbish look, and started sifting through a pile of clothes on a chair.

“Um, so . . . Bob, huh?” Lizzy managed to say.

“Um, yeah.” The girl eyeballed Lizzy with a confused look. Much like the look Lizzy imagined was on her own face at the moment.

“What’s up with you, Lizzy? You’re being super quiet and creepy, which is odd even for you. Go figure, I’d end up with the creepy girl as a roommate on the show. Hey, have you seen my bra? The one that makes my boobs look soft and voluptuous, not the one that makes them cute and perky. Wait, if you took it to do something creepy with it, keep it.”

Lizzy knew she was no longer dreaming. Nope, she was pretty sure she was directly in hell.

“Uh, no. Haven’t seen your bra. But I’ll keep an eye out for it. Hey, do you mind if I shower now?”

The girl was lost in another mound of clothing. “Why you asking me? I don’t care. Knock yourself out.”

Lizzy turned towards the bathroom, hurried in, and shut the door behind her.

“Holy cow, “ she said in response to the once again unexpected situation, a little louder than she thought.

“What?” she heard the girl call from the other side of the door. “Did you find my bra?”

“NO!” Lizzy called back. She turned on the shower to create some noise and let the girl know she was unable to converse any longer.

Lizzy shed her flannel pajamas and stepped into the shower. She once again sought comfort from the water splashing down over her from the showerhead above. Could she really be in an episode of The Bachelor? Or was this just more of the nightmare that started several days ago, from which she still could not manage to wake up.

Every logical bone in her body told her it was literally, absolutely, completely, physically impossible for her to be in a TV show after having done nothing more than fall asleep. But if that were true, then how could she explain what was happening? How could she make sense of being in a bathroom adjacent to a room with an identified girl searching for a bra that makes her boobs perky?

Lizzy shut off the water and toweled dry. Realizing she probably didn’t have any clean clothes of her own in the bathroom, she wrapped the towel around herself and cautiously opened the bathroom door, peering into the bedroom. Miss Perky was nowhere to be found.

Lizzy crossed the room and began looking through yet another pile of clothes that she assumed might be hers.

“Ok, so now you’re stealing my clothes?” Miss Perky’s voice suddenly came from behind. Lizzy stood up and turned around to face the girl. “Look, Lizzy. I don’t know what’s up with you this morning, but stay away from me and my clothes. I’m not letting you borrow anything, and you’d better know I know everything that’s in that pile. Anything turns up missing, I am hunting you down.”

“Um, sorry. I thought I might have dropped my shirt over here last night . . . “ Lizzy could tell that Miss Perky was not a fan of hers, and she decided it would be best to stay out of her way as much as possible. She didn’t know how long this ‘episode’ would last before she could get out of Bachelor-World, and the less people she angered in the mean time, the best.

Lizzy stumbled around the foot of the bed, and tripped over an open suitcase. Trying not to make any noise by yelling out in pain, so as not to disturb Miss Perky who was now in the bathroom fussing over her hair, Lizzy bent over to move the suitcase out of the way. She noticed a tag on the side of the suitcase: Lizzy Talbot.

“Thank goodness,” she said, and she quickly rifled through the clothes in the bag until she found some jeans and shirt that matched well enough for breakfast.

“Are you going downstairs like that?” Miss Perky had again appeared as if from nowhere, scowling at Lizzy with a look of supreme disapproval and snobbery.

“What do you mean?” Lizzy checked herself in the mirror. She was by no means glamorous at this stage in the day, but considering just twenty minutes ago she had awoken in a strange room with a strange girl in another strange situation, she looked pretty good.

“Well, far be it from me to tell you how to impress a guy. But you know when you walk out this door, the cameras are on. And girlfriend, that’s an interesting look you’ve got going on there.” Miss Perky smirked and giggled as she turned to the mirror again, checking her hair.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“Betsy? Lizzy? Are you guys up?” The head of another Barbie girl poked in the bedroom door. “Hey. Julie is cooking breakfast for everyone, so you may want to get downstairs before you’re stuck with cereal. And I think someone said we’ve got another video thingy from Bob. Hurry up!”

“See you downstairs,” Miss Perky said as she followed Barbie Girl out the door. Betsy. That name seemed about right for Lizzy’s new friend, Miss Perky.

Lizzy stopped for a few minutes in front of the mirror, trying to attempt some damage control. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to impress Bob, but if cameras were on, she should probably look a little better than the current look she had going on. Even if she still had no idea what was going on, although she was beginning to suspect that this would be another long, bizarre day, “Rolled Out of Bed and Hit the Shower” wasn’t necessarily the best look for making it through whatever awaited her outside the door and downstairs.

She took a deep breath before entering the kitchen, but Lizzy was in no way prepared for what she saw as she stepped into the room. It was the largest kitchen she’d even seen, complete with a long table by a beautiful bay window overlooking a massive outdoor swimming pool. The sun was out in full force, and the pool shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting even more glorious light back into the kitchen. The smell of a not quite identifiable, possibly breakfast type food filled the room.

But, what Lizzy was most unprepared for was the room full of girls. She counted eight girls at the table, one girl standing at the stove, and with herself, that made ten girls. They were chatting at an unusually fast rate of speech, excited and hyper and catty all at once. Even at eight o’clock in the morning, there was more makeup, hairspray, fake nails, and perfume sitting at the kitchen table than Lizzy had likely witnessed in her entire lifetime.

Betsy caught Lizzy’s eye from the table as she stood in the doorway, hesitant to fully commit herself to being in the kitchen. Betsy’s look was one of recognition, and of distaste. Great, Lizzy thought. The one familiar face in the room is the face of possibly pure evil.

Remembering that Barbie Girl had mentioned Julie was cooking when she popped her head in the door, Lizzy decided to take a stab at blending in. She walked over to the girl at the stove, and paused before passing her to get to the table.

“Um, Julie,” she mumbled, not looking directly at Stove Girl in case these girls had thrown her for a loop and put someone else at the stove other than Julie.

“Oh hey, Lizzy. Girl, you almost missed out on my special tofu omelets. Grab a plate.”

Tofu? Check the evil. Lizzy was sure she was right back in hell again.

“Oh. Wow. That smells great. Really. But you know? I think I’ll just have some toast, if that’s okay. My stomach is feeling a little funky this morning. Don’t want to overdo it.” Lizzy looked over at the table full of girls and thought for a second. “But Betsy mentioned to me this morning how much she loves tofu, and she was absolutely starving before heading down here for breakfast. I think she only had a Tic-Tac and some celery for dinner last night. Will you give her my omelet? She will not know how to thank you.”

Julie looked at Lizzy. “Sure. Lizzy, that is really sweet of you. I don’t know what Betsy was talking about earlier.” She smiled cheerily at Lizzy, then turned her attention back to the tofu omelet currently inflicting its torment on the frying pan in front of her.

Lizzy almost asked Julie what she meant by “what Betsy was talking about earlier”, but she decided to find the toast instead. She smiled to herself as she watched Julie bouncily deliver the extra tofu omelet to Betsy, catching Betsy in mid-bite of the omelet she was currently trying to choke down. Lizzy pretended to be very interested in her toast making, so as to avoid eye contact from a perturbed, tofu-overloaded Betsy.

Lizzy joined the other girls at the table to enjoy her toast. Toast, at least, was something normal. Even in Bizarro Reality TV World, toast was just toast. What now, she wondered, as she kept her mouth full of toast to avoid conversations with the other girls sitting with her at the table.

It was then that she noticed the cameras. Hovering in the corners of the kitchen were several guys with cameras and big boom microphones. She also noticed some oddly placed cameras fastened to the ceiling in various nooks and crannies. Lizzy couldn’t tell if the cameras were currently on, but the crew was poised and ready to roll. The house was definitely rigged to catch every waking moment of activity amongst these ten girls. Ten girls sadly to which Lizzy seemed to belong.

Breakfast seemed to wind down, and as the girls began to get up from the table and clear away dishes, a man walked in to the kitchen. Lizzy blinked several times before she decided the man was none other than Chris Harrison, host of The Bachelor.

Lizzy almost choked on the last piece of her toast.

“Good morning, ladies. Nice to see everyone up.” Chris looked older in person than he did on TV. Not in a bad way. Just in a different way. But in every other way, so far he seemed just like he did on TV.

“Ladies, if you could join me in the living room, we have another video invitation from our bachelor, Bob.” Lizzy noticed the silent but deadly camera crew had suddenly sprung to life. They were quietly capturing everything on film, even down to the two girls trying to gingerly scrape food off of plates without breaking a nail. Seriously, she wondered. Had these girls never seen a soapy scrub brush before?

As Lizzy got up from the table, she suddenly felt a strange sense of calmness, something she hadn’t felt seated a moment ago among the chaotic chatter of girls and their tofu. She suddenly felt very at home. At least four cameras were pointed directly at her, she was in a house full of overgrown sorority girls involved in prolonged swarming of one man, not unlike a pack of wolves might swarm over a fresh carcass. She vaguely felt like this was a different scenario than her normal life. Yet for some reason, this did not feel strange to her. After all, ever since she had first seen Bob on a previous season of The Bachelorette, she had dreamed of him. His wit, his charm, his good looks. She couldn’t believe Trista had rejected him, but Lizzy was thankful that she had. Now Lizzy had a chance. Bob was the man of her dreams, and she had fought long and hard to make it this far in the show.

She wasn’t about to let these other girls get the best of her. And she wasn’t about to quit fighting for her man.
Lizzy quickly dropped off her plate of toast crumbs with the two girls who were still bumbling through scraping the other plates, and she hurried into the living room. She wanted a good seat on the couch to watch Bob’s video invitation to their next group date. And of course, she wanted a prime spot for good camera coverage. If she were front and center on the couch, Bob and America would have a better chance of seeing how hot and charming she is. It’s all about strategy, she reasoned to herself. I will win.

In a flurry of long hair and giddiness, the girls trounced into the living room and assembled around the couch in a sorority-girl-esque, impromptu pose. Everyone made sure their best side faced the camera, and several girls produced tiny mirrors from pockets within their clothes, for lipstick checks. As everyone settled in, Chris entered the room.
“Ladies, once again, good morning. I’ve gathered you here to watch another video invitation to the next group date with our bachelor, Bob,” Chris began. “However, we do have a twist for you this time. For today’s date, only four of you will go with Bob. Bob has chosen the four ladies who will spend the day with him. The rest of you will not get to go on the group date. Instead, you will prepare an original dinner for Bob at his bachelor pad, for when he returns from the group date this evening.”

Immediately a murmur ran throughout the group of girls. Oh my! What does this mean? I hope I get to go on the date! If I can’t be with Bob today, I may not have the special connection with him that I know we are destined to have! I can’t cook! Does Bob like tofu?

Chris continued. “Now, those of you who go on the date with Bob will of course have the opportunity to spend an entire day in an exotic location with our bachelor. But once the date is over, you will turn Bob over to the ladies who are preparing dinner for him this evening. These ladies will get to spend a romantic evening with Bob at his bachelor pad, while you return here to the Ladies Villa. After these activities are over, Bob will have a tough decision to make, as only six of you will receive a rose at the Rose Ceremony tomorrow evening.”

This was almost too much for Lizzy to take in. She would either have to fight over Bob all day today, or get tough with the girls at dinner tonight, in order to woo her man. The anticipation of which Bob Event of the Day would be hers was almost more than Lizzy could handle. But either way, she would not be settling for anything less than one of those six roses tomorrow night.

Chris turned to the television and the girls watched as the TV came to life. There on the screen was Bob. And he was talking. And smiling. And looking oh so fabulous, Lizzy swooned.

The girls watched as Bob told them about the date for the day. It was a day trip to Sea World in San Diego, complete with a special arrangement for all of them to swim with the dolphins. Well, Lizzy thought, I don’t particularly like fish. But for Bob, I will love fish. . .

Bob then listed the names of the girls he chose to accompany him to Sea World: Betsy (of course), Julie, Brenda, and Lizzy.

And Lizzy! Lizzy stared at the screen and mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Bob. She knew he wasn’t there. But she also knew that he felt it, her secret message of thanks to him, right at that moment. Lizzy was going to Sea World!

The tape ended, the TV was quiet, and the room was filled again with excited, and disappointed chatter. One girl began crying hysterically. Lizzy hoped that wasn’t Brenda. She did not want to spend the day with a crybaby. That would totally cramp her style with Bob.

Chris the Host ushered the girls on their way, the Sea World group to gather their things and be back downstairs for the limo ride to meet Bob at the private jet in ten minutes, the leftover six girls to get ready to head to Bob’s for dinner preparations. Lizzy was glad she wouldn’t have to cook dinner all day. Luckily Julie was with the Sea World group, which would spare Bob from an evening with tofu.

Lizzy hurried to get her Sea World gear together, whatever that was. She threw some stuff in a bag, making sure none of it belonged to Betsy. And she ran back down the stairs to await the chariot that would whisk her away on a romantic date with Bob and dolphins.

Bob, dolphins, and unfortunately, three other girls.

In her wildest dreams, Lizzy could never have imagined a more perfect date. Well, except for the other three girls there to ruin her magical moments with bob. But other than the vicious rivalry between the four competing bachelorettes, the date with Bob was amazing. She even suspected that she truly had grown to love fish, thanks to Sea World. And Bob.
The date went by way too fast. Lizzy knew her mission was to get as much one-on-one time with Bob as possible, stopping at nothing to get in between Bob and the other three girls. Betsy, Julie, and Brenda had nothing on Lizzy. She was the one for Bob.

They swam with dolphins, watched whales perform silly tricks, and enjoyed everything that Sea World had to offer. All of which was carefully documented on film. The camera crew followed them everywhere they went. Even when Lizzy stole Bob away to sneak behind an isolated cabana to make out for awhile, the camera somehow found them. Lizzy didn’t mind. She wanted the whole world to see her mushy, slobbery kisses with Bob. She ran her fingers through his hair as they held each other and kissed many, many kisses. Strangely, she didn’t seem to mind the grease she’d noticed in abundance in his hair when they’d first met.

Lizzy did her best to avoid Betsy, although she soon figured out that would prove to be tough. Betsy inevitably seemed to be literally everywhere, providing no escape from her sneering, disgusting flirting. But if Betsy insisted on being everywhere at once, then Lizzy blamed Betsy for getting in the way those two times she accidentally tripped Betsy for the cameras to see. And that one time she accidentally spilled ice cream on Betsy’s shirt in passing. Oops! I am so sorry, sweetie!

Only sorry that Bob couldn’t possibly fall in love with someone who is such a messy klutz, Lizzy told herself mischievously under her breath. She hadn’t realized she could be so devious! But then again, she had never been in such a high pressure, performance situation. It was cutthroat time, baby!

After an exhausting day, the four girls and Bob jetted back to L.A., and back to their respective mansions. Lizzy was sure to leave Bob with one last, lingering smooch before turning him loose with the six dinner girls for the evening. She paused for a minute with one of the cameras for her confessional time, explaining that she and Bob had definitely connected today, and she felt certain that even after dinner with the other six girls, Bob would be giving her a rose at the ceremony tomorrow night.

Back at the Ladies Villa, the four Sea World girls actually chilled out for awhile. It was quiet. Eerily quiet. Everyone was nervous that the progress they each felt they had made during their time with Bob today would be undone by the six dinner girls that evening. Bob was great, but he had a bad habit of making out with everyone. Lizzy knew, of course, that her make out sessions with Bob were the real deal, that it meant something special to both her and Bob. The other girls, well, those were just for the cameras. Bob’s kisses for Lizzy were true love. No question.

After keeping a weary eye on Betsy all night for fear of retaliation, and after dodging Julie’s tofu patties for dinner, Lizzy decided to call it a night. She really didn’t want to be awake when the other girls came home, excited about their evening with her Bob. Without saying anything to the other girls, who at the moment were incessantly chatting about Bob’s biceps, she headed upstairs to get ready for bed. She was suddenly anxious to get to sleep before Betsy started with her snoring again. That girl could wake a mummy, for crying out loud.

Stumbling into the dark bedroom, Lizzy found the light switch and looked for her flannel pajamas. Aah, the comfort of her pj’s. Nothing quite said ‘congrats on a well-played love searching day’ like a well-broken in set of flannel pajamas. The comfort of her pj’s would surely lull her to sleep, dreaming of Bob and their future together. A large house, white picket fence, no tofu, and two kids. That sounded wonderful. . .

She found her pajamas where she’d left them on the floor of the bathroom. Ignoring the fact that the bathroom floor amongst Betsy’s things was probably the most disgusting place she could possibly leave her beloved pj’s, she stumbled into them, brushed her teeth, and hopped into bed- The really small, not exactly comfortable twin-size bed she’d woken up in again this morning.

“Man,” she muttered. “I sure do miss my bigger bed at home.” But not enough to quit the game and head back home so soon, she reminded herself. She flopped and squirmed around in the bed, searching for a comfortable position to begin a well-earned night of sleep.

No, she thought as she oozed her way into a deep sleep, this tiny bed is a small price to pay for a lifetime with The Bachelor . . .

Lizzy rolled over and promptly hit the floor, banging her head against something hard.

“Owww. . .” she moaned, as she lay on the floor rubbing the back of her head. “That’s going to leave a bump.”

She found herself wedged in between a table and the bed. Or what she thought was the bed. She slowly sat up and noticed she was on the floor in the living room between her coffee table and her couch. Her tumble to the floor had caused her head to rudely meet the edge of the hard, wooden coffee table.

“Guess I dozed off on the couch.” She noticed that it was unusually bright in the living room, as though it was later in the day than when she usually woke up for work in the morning. Her head throbbed for a few minutes before she decided to get off the floor and figure out what time it was. Funny, she couldn’t believe she’d slept all the way through the night on the couch. It’s a comfortable couch. But not that comfortable.

She looked around the room and noticed her phone was unplugged. That’s odd, she thought. Why would I unplug the phone?

Lizzy struggled to her feet and stumbled over to the phone. Ignoring the strange residue she seemed to have stuck on her hands, she plugged the cord back into the jack, and was rewarded by a sudden ringing of the phone.

The loud ringing didn’t help her head feel any better.

She picked up the phone receiver. “Hello?”

“Miss Talbot? Hi, this is Nancy from Dr. Bristow’s office? You had an appointment for an eye exam this morning at 8am? We weren’t aware that you canceled the appointment, and since you didn’t show, we’re going to have to charge you for an office visit . . . “

Lizzy was confused. “Um, I thought that appointment was for Friday morning. Did I write it down wrong or something?”

“Yes, Miss Talbot. The appointment was for Friday, November 7, which is today. This morning, in fact. Now, we require twenty-four hours notice of cancellation, and since you are now three hours late, I’m sorry but we will not be able to fit you in today, and you will have to pay . . .”

“Wait a minute. Today is Thursday. I will be in for my appointment tomorrow morning, just like I have it scheduled.”

Something very familiar was suddenly coming back to Lizzy. She remembered why she had unplugged the phone.

“Miss Talbot,” Nancy replied, sounding very annoyed. “Our office will be closed tomorrow since tomorrow is Saturday. You are welcome to reschedule for another time during the week, but since you missed today’s appointment, the doctor will not be able to see you again at least until next week. Now, should I send you a bill for today’s appointment, or would you prefer to take care of that when you come in next week?”

Lizzy frantically searched for some indication to let her know the day of the week. She looked at her watch. The date said ‘7’! No way!

“Miss Talbot? Are you still there?” Lizzy heard the impatient voice of Dr. Bristow’s receptionist on the phone still in her hand.

“Uh, send a bill,” she said with a wavering voice to Nancy the receptionist, and hung up the phone. She then unplugged it again.

What had happened to Thursday? Lizzy’s mind was spinning out of control. Think, Lizzy. Think!

She had fallen asleep on the couch. It was Wednesday night. She was watching The Bachelor. Then she had fallen off of the couch, and it was Friday? How could she have missed another day??

Lizzy was aware of noise in the room. The TV was still on! She hurried back over to the couch and grabbed the television remote. Flipping through the channels, she stopped when she saw something familiar on the news. She saw . . . her face!

There it was again, a strange publicity photo that she never remembered taking, yet it was unmistakably Lizzy’s face with a strange, flashy grin on it. She vaguely remembered seeing this picture a few days earlier, on the news. The anchor was talking. Lizzy turned up the volume.

“ . . . Lizzy Talbot, a questionable disappearance, once again. Former star of the hit reality show, Average Joe, and current bachelorette hopeful on this season’s The Bachelor, Lizzy Talbot has once again mysteriously disappeared without a trace, during production of the show. Producers of The Bachelor are baffled, saying Lizzy seemed fine, and noting she left on her own.”

The shot of the anchor switched to footage of Bob, the Bachelor. He seemed upset, and was having trouble speaking to the camera. “I just don’t know what happened. I mean, Lizzy and I had a real connection. I had a great time with her on the date to Sea World yesterday. I intended to give her a rose tonight. It’s early in the season, but I really felt like she was the one. I don’t know if I can keep going. Lizzy, wherever you are, I will always have a rose for you. . . “ The shot went back to the anchor as Bob broke down in tears on camera.

“Sources say the show will go on, but whether or not Bob will be able to cope with the sudden and mysterious loss of Lizzy, his apparent favorite bachelorette, may determine if the show lasts for the rest of the scheduled season. In other news, tofu is making a comeback as America’s favorite non-meat meat . . .”

Lizzy hit the ‘mute’ button on her remote. And she once again stared blankly at the screen. Surely she didn’t hit her head that hard on the coffee table. Did she knock her brain right out of her head? Has she literally gone insane? Is she now hallucinating that Bob the Bachelor has somehow met her, and is naturally completely in love with Lizzy?

“This . . . can . . . not . . . be . . . happening . . . “ Lizzy could suddenly remember the past few days. Or at least what she thought were the past few days. She went to work on Monday. Lost Tuesday. Found out she probably didn’t have a job Wednesday. Lost Thursday. Missed a doctor appointment Friday. And presumably misplaced her place on the space and time continuum somewhere along the way.

Yep, it all made perfect sense. She had simply accidentally stepped into a parallel universe. Of course! Because that is totally possible.

She shook her head, and noticed it still hurt a bit from the run-in with the coffee table. At least that part of her week made sense. Head hits table, equals pain. Thank goodness for that, she thought.

Lizzy looked at the clock. It was almost noon. She figured she should probably be doing something, but at this point she couldn’t think of anything to do that would either help her figure out what happened to her week, or that would make sense anyway.

The doorbell rang, causing Lizzy to jerk her head in surprise towards the direction of the door. Someone was at the door? Great. She winced in pain again from the sudden head movement, rubbing the now proficient knot at the top of her forehead. Why must coffee tables be so hard? She made a mental note to buy a foam table. She didn’t care if that seemed weird or not. This week had been weird enough already.

She got to her feet and headed towards the front door, nervous about who to expect on the other side of the door. People didn’t usually just stop by her house without calling first. But then again, she wasn’t usually home at noon on a Friday. Normal people with jobs are at work this time of day. For all she knew, there was usually a steady stream of random people ringing her doorbell all day long, but she wasn’t usually here to witness it.

Lizzy peeked through the peephole in the door and to her surprise, saw her mom standing on the other side of the door. The doorbell rang again.

“Lizzy? Are you home? I’m about to call 911! Open the door!” her mom called from outside.

Call 911? It was just a bump on the head. Nothing serious. Wait, how did her mom know she had just hit her head . . .
Lizzy unlocked the door and opened it to find a very frantic mother standing on the front porch.

“Oh sweetie! Are you okay?? Why are you still in your pajamas?” Lizzy’s mom fussed, reaching out and sucking her into a tight mom hug.

“Mom. I’m fine. MOM! You’re hurting me . . . “ Lizzy wriggled free from the crazed clutches of her mother, and took a step backwards back into the house. She looked down and noticed she was, in fact, still in her flannel pajamas.

“Well, when you’re phone was busy all morning, I didn’t know what to think. I thought maybe you fell and hit your head, and you were lying unconscious on the floor in need of medical assistance. What’s that on your head? Lizzy, did you fall? Were you attacked? Oh dear! Go get in the car, I’m taking you to the hospital . . . “

Lizzy took a deep breath and slowly closed the door behind her mother, as she finally stepped inside the house after Lizzy.

“Mom, I’m fine. I bumped my head on the table earlier, but it’s fine. I unplugged the phone, so that’s why it didn’t pick up. No need to call 911. I’m not going to the hospital.” She tried to corral her mother over to the couch to sit down and stop fussing over Lizzy for a minute.

“Wait,” Lizzy said, taking a closer look at her mother who had finally taken a seat on the couch and had immediately proceeded to wipe a smudge of dust off of the end table with her finger. “Why have you been trying to call me all morning? Is everything okay?” Lizzy was suddenly alarmed. Her mom only called when something was wrong, so if she had been trying to call more than once in one day, something was definitely wrong.

“Well, honey, I saw the news this morning. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know how hard you take it when you lose a relationship. I just wanted to make sure my baby was okay, and to let you know you don’t have to put on a brave face with me,” her mom replied.

A look of confusion crossed Lizzy’s face. “What?” she said to her mom, hoping her mom wasn’t about to say what Lizzy thought she was about to say.

“Lizzy. I am your mother. You don’t have to treat me like you treat the media. You can be honest with me. Now tell me, did you leave the show because that boy, - what’s his name, Bob -tried to take advantage of you? You know, I never trusted him from the minute I first saw you two together on that show. I’ve always told your father that anyone with that much grease in his hair can not be trusted. Good thing your father was mostly bald when I met him! Otherwise, we may never have fallen in love . . . “

Lizzy’s eyes began to blur as she tried to tune out what her mother was saying.
Oh . . . dear . . . God. This just never ends . . .

Was it possible that the whole world had gone insane with Lizzy? Maybe there is some truth to the parallel universe idea, she thought. If the entire earth had somehow slipped into a blackhole, then everything over the past few days wouldn’t need to make sense. Floating around in a blackhole would explain everything.

“Lizzy? You don’t look well.” Her mom was still there, jabbering away on the couch. Lizzy looked at her. Her mom was staring back, intently examining Lizzy’s state of well-being.

“I know what you need. Food! A broken heart always heals quicker with some good food. Go get dressed and I’ll take you to lunch.”

“Mom, I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to leave the house right now.” Lizzy was still a little afraid of the outside world. If things were this crazy inside her own house, who knew what the world would be like beyond these safe, sturdy walls?

“What? Nonsense! I know you don’t have anything respectable to eat in your kitchen, so let’s get you cleaned up and head out someplace for a nice lunch.” Even when her mom was trying to be nice, Lizzy was mostly annoyed by her mother. She had a way of being sweetly patronizing, and helpful in that ‘you are never going to be able to take care of yourself like your mother can’ sort of way.

Lizzy breathed a sigh of resignation and got up from the couch. She headed back to her bedroom to change into ‘respectable’ clothes for a lunch outing, opting to skip the shower for now. The less time she left her mother alone in another part of the house, the fewer things her mother would find to ‘fix’ while Lizzy wasn’t looking.

Now that she thought about it, maybe some time outside of the house was what she needed to clear things up. If the date on her watch was right, she hadn’t technically left the house since Monday. Of course, that was with the exception of her mysterious instantaneous trips out to L.A. on two nights, where she proceeded to gallivant around two big mansions with two different men on national television.

Lizzy laughed a sarcastic and desperate laugh to herself. She just didn’t know what to believe anymore. But maybe while someplace away from this house of hers that seemed to transport her to other places and times at random, she could get some straight answers from her mother about the reality of the past few days. She still couldn’t help but feel the whole thing was a grand scale, elaborate joke at her expense. Or a very bad, very detailed, very lengthy hallucination possibly brought on by a lack of protein in her diet.

Thinking further as she searched her closet for two matching shoes, Lizzy thought it very strange that her mother didn’t find the fact that Lizzy had been on TV making out with a guy named Bob to be the least bit strange at all.

“Maybe Mom is really the one who has lost her mind . . . “ Lizzy muttered, struggling with a sock that didn’t seem to match the other one.

“What dear? Are you talking to me?” her mom called from the front bedroom.

“No.” Lizzy called back, wondering what her mother was doing in the front bedroom where Lizzy hadn’t left her a few minutes earlier.

She checked herself in the mirror, then wandered back to the living room to search for her mom. There she found her mom, sitting quietly and innocently in a chair. Too, innocently, in fact. And in a chair that was in a different place than where Lizzy had left it a few minutes earlier when she left to change clothes.

“Well, Mom, I see you rearranged my living room for me?” Lizzy said, noticing that the chair wasn’t the only thing with a new place in the room.

“Oh, I just moved a few things around to brighten it up in here a bit. It seemed a bit cluttered, but it feels much better now! I moved that hideous lamp you keep in the corner into your front bedroom, by the way. Dear, there just really wasn’t a good place for it in here with the new arrangement. If you insist on keeping it, I’m sure it will find a lovely home tucked away in the bedroom.” Lizzy had to hand it to her mom. She was very skillful in the art of sneakily getting her way when she caught you off guard.

Lizzy noticed her mom was looking intently at Lizzy’s shoes. “Well, dear, I see you are ready for lunch,” she said with skepticism that was very poorly hidden. Lizzy had apparently chosen the wrong shoes for her outfit, but her mother was surprisingly exercising some restraint by not saying what her facial expression portrayed. “Let’s get going, shall we? It will be dinner time before we get out the door!”

They headed out into the sunlight, and Lizzy blinked her eyes at the world around her. It felt like a really long time since she’d been outdoors. But then again, she strangely felt like she’d just been in a much sunnier place, in a better climate than where she lived. And either her eyes were playing tricks on her, or the part of her arms sticking out from the edge of her sleeve seemed a bit more tan than she usually was in mid-November.

Her mom drove the two of them to a favorite little restaurant where they often agreed upon for lunch. It was quiet and small and served food they both enjoyed. They settled into a booth tucked away in the corner, and perused the menu while sipping on glasses of water.

The waiter came by to take their order.

“Good afternoon, ladies. What can I get you to eat today?” he asked in a very polite, waiter-type way.

Lizzy and her mom ordered lunch, then sat in silence for all of forty-five seconds. That has to be a record, Lizzy thought. Her mom had the amazing ability to have a conversation with anything, living or inanimate. Lizzy was exactly the opposite, preferring quiet and less talking to constant conversation and noise to fill silence.

But this time it was Lizzy who broke the silence. She had a lot of questions and she decided to get a jump on whatever topic her Mom might bring up: the house, her job, why she walked out in the middle of her supposed reality television show.

Well, that last one was actually where Lizzy wanted to start.

“So, Mom,” Lizzy began, trying to think of the best way to determine if she was the crazy one, or if it was her mom that was insane. “What’s been happening with you the last few days? I feel out of touch.”

Lizzy’s mom gave her a peculiar look. “Well, honey, I should think so! You’ve been quite the busy girl this week!” Her mom gave Lizzy a playful pat on the hand.

“Really. Have I?” Lizzy rolled her eyes and shifted her gaze out the window.

“Now Lizzy,” her mom went on, as if on cue. “Talk to me. Which of these men did you like best? Those ‘average Joe’ guys seemed nice enough, but how are you supposed to choose between so many guys at once? And what happened with Bob?”

Lizzy put her glass down on the table so hard that it rattled the silverware, causing a fork to hit the floor with a clatter. Embarrassed for drawing attention to their table, she quickly leaned over to retrieve the fork, wishing she still had her menu to hide behind.

“Lizzy? Be careful with the silverware, dear.” her mom said in that ‘mom knows best’ tone she did so well.

Lizzy took a deep breath and looked directly at her mom with a serious look of intent on her face. “Mom,” she said with determination, then paused before continuing, taking another deep breath. “Are you really saying that over the past five days, I have been on not one, but two reality television shows, both of which involved me searching for love, with strange men, in mansions, in L.A.?”

Her mom looked at her with another peculiar look. “Lizzy, stop being silly! Just because you don’t want to answer my question doesn’t mean you have to make a joke of me. I may be getting old, but am not senile enough to make up stuff like that, yet!” She laughed and turned her attention to the sandwich, which had just arrived on a plate in front of her.
Suddenly Lizzy noticed that the waiter who had just brought their food was staring at their table. More precisely, he was staring at Lizzy. He looked away quickly when Lizzy caught his stare. Lizzy looked around and noticed that several other people in the restaurant were staring at her, and whispering. She knew banging her glass and dropping the fork on the floor had been loud, but certainly that didn’t deserve as much attention as she seemed to be getting from a restaurant full of people at that moment.

“Mom? Does it seem like we’re being stared at by a room full of people?”

Lizzy’s mom looked up from her sandwich. “Well, dear, if they are you shouldn’t be surprised. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you signed onto the ‘Joe’ show. Remember? We talked about it. Your private life would probably no longer be private.” She went back to her sandwich, meticulously removing the slivers of onion thoroughly mixed into the tuna she’d ordered.

Lizzy tried to also focus on her sandwich, but she was quickly interrupted by a young looking guy who walked up to their table. He was probably in college, there having lunch with a couple of other possibly college-aged guys. He hesitantly approached her as she tried to ignore that he was standing way too close to the table for someone who was not either a waiter, or her mom sitting there with her.

“Um, are you Lizzy Talbot?” he asked, nervously shifting his weight back on forth from foot to foot.

Lizzy didn’t know how to answer that question. Yes, she was Lizzy Talbot, but she was extremely frightened of who this guy might think Lizzy Talbot is.

“Yes,” she said, trying to look really interested in her sandwich.

“Wow. Um, well, I don’t want to bother you, but can I have your autograph?” the guy said, turning to give a quick thumbs up to some other guys watching him at a table across the restaurant.

The sandwich no longer held Lizzy’s attention. She turned quickly to get a better look at the guy standing by her table. Did she know him? Was he messing around with her? Was this a hidden camera show? No way he could be an actual fan. Lizzy was not aware she was the type to have fans. Actually, Lizzy was sincerely hoping she was not the type to have fans.

The guy noticed that Lizzy hadn’t responded and was blatantly staring at him with what was undoubtedly a look of absolute confusion. “Oh, um, see, I’ve never met anyone famous before. And those guys over there bet me a dollar I wouldn’t come over here to get your autograph if it was really you. See, last semester Chuck there in the red shirt saw Anna Nicole at a Whataburger, so if I can get your autograph, then you so beat his Anna Nicole autograph. . .” The guy trailed off, realizing his words were most likely losing all meaning to Lizzy, who still sat in stoned silence.

The guy put a wrinkled napkin down on the table and held out a pen to Lizzy. She looked at the pen, then at the guy, then at the napkin, then back at the guy, then at her mom, who was beaming with amused pride at the whole situation.

Lizzy grabbed the pen and scribbled ‘Lizzy’ on the napkin, then dropped the pen on the table. The guy mumbled a ‘thanks’, then hurried back over to the table of guys, who erupted in cheers and high fives upon his return.

That guy just got the first and only ‘Lizzy’ autograph ever, Lizzy thought. And I’m still not even sure what just happened here or why I’m being asked for an autograph. No one else in the restaurant was giving out autographs.

“Mom, we gotta go. Now.” Lizzy noticed that several other people in the restaurant were turning more attention towards her, rummaging through purses for pens and scraps of paper. She threw a twenty down on the table, grabbed her mom by the arm, and hustled them both out of the restaurant.

The restaurant crowd moaned as Lizzy hurried out the door, their brush with unknowing fame coming to an abrupt ending.