Paparazzi

At a club, I’m given a camera to join a throng of photographers with camera flashbulbs popping taking pictures around Howard Stern. I jostle through the crowd trying to take good shots from interesting angles, but not necessarily of him. I walk to another room, a woman calls me over, which surprises me and the telephoto lens on my camera flies off and bounces onto the plush chair next to the one she’s sitting in. I sit down, trying to play it off. She ignores it or doesn’t notice. She is gorgeous and wearing a short skirt. She asks me where Jimmy Buffett is playing tonight. I say The Hideaway since I think that’s where he played last night. I make a self-deprecating comment that I should be so lucky and she says, actually I want you to ask me out.