What Angelina Jolie Would Be Thinking If She Drove By Me While I Was Running One Of My Intermittent Three Mile Runs.
Jesus Christ this mountain house better be worth the trip through this dump of a town. I’ve haven’t seen towns this filthy since my last stint in the Congo working as a Goodwill Ambassador for the United Nations Refugee Agency. Fuck. And I hope Brad Pitt, my domestic partner, can get up here soon; there’s no way I can deal with all six of my children by myself, I’m only 33 years old for goodness sake! Maddox, Pax, Zahara, Shiloh, Knox, and Vivienne! Can you all shut the fuck up, Mommy’s trying to drive!
Oh my God, what was that? Kids did you see what just ran by? Are any of you old enough to talk yet? Note to self: ask Nanny if any of the children are old enough to speak. Really, what was that that ran by? I have to find out.
Knox Léon Jolie-Pitt stop crying! We just have a quick detour before we get to the hotel. There he is! Could it be some Greek God manifest? Have I come upon Hermes the messenger, gracing the pavement with the seductive pitter-patter of his sneaker soles? Is it wrong that I also feel a pitter-patter in my soul? I need to follow this stallion, all my successful career as an actress, humanitarian and mother have led me to this moment. I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.
Dammit! He’s turning into a park, I’ll have to follow on foot. Kids wait here, Mommy will be back soon! Arrg, I can’t run in these heels, but I can’t just leave them they were a birthday present from Brad Pitt, my domestic partner. Oh, it doesn’t matter! Nothing matters now, only this: this hot pursuit. I’ll call out to him. You! Runner! Stop! I love you! I, Angelina Jolie, love you with all my heart! Dammit, he can’t hear me. I’ll have to catch up to him. It’s too difficult to run in this expensive evening gown. But it was so expensive… No, forget it. I’ll tear it off above the knees, maybe the nanny can sewn it back together later. What is that nanny’s name? Cassandra, yes. I should have left the air condition running for the kids, its hot out today.
Finally, I’m catching up. I can see him clearly now. His baggy gym shorts billow so handsomely around his hairy pencil legs. I never knew what a turn-on big white sneakers were- not until now.
What shirt does my true love wear? Ah, an indie band. How savvy! How fashionable! Come on, Angelina, run faster. Let’s get a look at his face. All that physical training for Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life wasn’t in vain, was it?
Sweet serendipity. God must have spent a little more time on this one. His features look as though they were carved from marble. His complection glows with what appears to be the residue of some acne medication. His hair, stringy and misted with sweat, bounces with each stride. The locks have been blown back by the wind, revealing the expanses of his sweat-drenched forehead. His arms swing, thin and boney, like a newborn.
At last within arm’s reach. I, Angelina Jolie, can embrace my true love. Wrap my arms around his fragile frame. Have him to hold, forever and ever. Wait, what is that squad-car doing? Get your hands off me! Officer do you know who you are talking to? Ran over a child?! I have never hurt a fly in my entire life, I’m a humanitarian. My children? Inside my vehicle a half mile down the road? Unconscious from heat exhaustion? I parked on top of a four year old’s lemonade stand? Please, officer, just let me go, I was so close. To my true love! No, I have not been drinking. Drunk with love maybe. Let go of me! When my domestic partner Brad Pitt gets his hands on you! Have you ever seen Fight Club? You are toast. Handcuffs are you serious?! This is abuse!
Runner! Runner! I love you and one day I’ll find you!
08/07/2009
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