Chapter 4
Melissa:
Once outside Le Café, we kept a lookout for the lady Durbbie had described as a woman of about 5'6" with short blond hair. From my position on top of a chair, I thought I saw her. "Durbs, I think I found her!" I said excitedly. She looked too and we had found her.
With the lady in sight, we made our way over to her and introduced ourselves. In no time at all we were at our hotel where we were going to stay for a night before boarding our own tour bus for the rest of the week. I was pretty excited about this. How many opportunities come along to tour with a group you've followed since before high school? So while Durbbie handling the technical stuff, I watched the whole scene. Let's see. Here I am, an American, in France who doesn't know a word of French besides bonjour who's got art supplies to do a photo spread for these guys. Yeah, it's just another typical day over here.
Durbbie:
Melissa and I were pretty much beat by the time we reached the hotel. We had traveled half a world away from home and I was the only one that knew the language. I knew Melissa was thrilled about working with whoever they are, but I wasn't so sure. I had my own reservations about it. They were probably stuck up who would flash their money around and make you feel stupid. They're probably like that James Van Der Beek guy from Dawson's Creek: they know what they've got and they shove it in your face. I just shrugged and climbed into bed.
"Hey Durbs?" Melissa asked from the other bed.
"What?" I asked already half asleep.
"What are you going to wear tomorrow?"
"I hadn't really thought about that," I answered truthfully. "Maggie said to dress casual. She said shorts were OK, so I guess I'm wearing shorts."
"You're not getting dressed up?"
I nearly threw a pillow at her. "When do I ever get dressed up?"
"Eh, good point. Just promise me you won't make it too outrageous?"
I rolled my eyes. My style had always been, well, out there. I liked to wear stuff nobody else would and to put my hair into all sorts of crazy things. I wanted to be myself, not some Barbie knock off who came off as a bimbo. "Whatever," I grumbled as I fell asleep.
The Next Morning
Melissa:
I woke up totally excited. After my shower, I had gotten dressed in my khaki shorts and put on a dark blue sweatshirt that had been broken in just right and put my hair into a quick pony tail. Durbbie, on the other hand, was still cutting Z's.
"Come on Durbs. Wake up," I said shaking her gently. She didn't so much as stir. She's definitely NOT a morning person. "You're going to miss the entire shoot," I prodded.
"Good. Leave me alone," she grumbled as she pulled the sheets over her head.
"I'll just tell all the guys that you'd rather sleep than work with them," I said coolly taking a seat on her bed.
"Fine with me," Durbs said not so gracefully falling into dreamland.
"That's it," I said getting up. "I'm tossing the coffee."
I don't think I've ever seen Durbbie move so fast in my entire life. "Touch the coffee and deal with an un-cafinated me all day," Durbs threatened.
I laughed. She wasn't serious at all. But the thought of her without coffee all day frightened me beyond belief. "You win," I said surrendering. "Just get moving."
"What time is it?"
I checked my watch. "9:30 maybe. We have to be downstairs by noon."
"Good. That gives me time to go for a quick run," Durbbie said getting out of bed. She's been really into running lately. I don't know what possesses her to run around a track several times, but whatever works for her.
Durbbie:
It felt good to have the air of the track fill my lungs as I took off. I was clad in a two-piece bathing suit with a pair of sweatpants over the bottoms. Forget what anybody else says: I was gonna dress the way I wanted to even if it meant looking like a slut. People shouldn't judge by appearance anyway.
After about ¾ of a mile, I decided to slow my pace a little bit and swooped up my inhaler as I ran by it before I opted to head back up to the room to get showered and down a cup or 5 of coffee before heading off to the shoot.
"Hey Durbs. How'd the run go?" Melissa greeted.
"Pretty well. It was kinda boring," I said.
"You didn't talk to yourself again did you?" Melissa asked remembering my last incident where I scared somebody.
"Not too much. I got a little winded," I said putting down my bag, which held my inhaler and various other items.
"You OK?"
"Don't worry about it. I'm supposed to get winded. I'm exercising," I said moving into the bathroom and preparing my shower. The hot water felt good as it pelted my body. I let it run over me for a few minutes before I made any move to start washing.
Soon enough I was finished with that part of my routine and I found the clothes I brought with me and changed into them. And what exactly was I wearing? Ankle high cowboy boots, shiny black stockings that had cows on them, denim cut off shorts with a butterfly on one leg, and a shirt that had random cuts in it. I topped it all off with a backwards New York Yankees hat that just let my curls peek through the back of the hat. Satisfied that Melissa would have a heart attack with my newest creation, I stepped out of the bathroom.
"What on Earth?" Melissa said.
I grinned. That was the reaction I was hoping for.
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