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Nick's Day

This article chronicles an average day in the life of Nick, a sometime guest writer on L&E, former resident of Rhode Island, who has moved to California this year for college purposes. His work includes The Next Wave of Sprint PCS Ads and co-writing of the Nick and Laura Prom Adventure.

NOON: Nick rolls out of bed after a pleasant night dreaming about traditionally hot ladies like Cindy Crawford, Isabella Rosselini, and Busta Rhymes. Brushing aside his sun-soaked black bedsheets, he yawns contentedly, and gazes at the empty bed beside him. Munchul, his roommate, has been playing WarCraft III for seventeen straight days.

NOON:01: Nick goes back to sleep.

TWO P.M.: Nick wakes up moments before missing his first class, which we'll call "Survey of Asian History, 0-present." Stumbling out of bed in his camoflage boxers, he wows the co-ed freshman hall with his amazing abdominal musculature. "Nice abs," a hot girl remarks. Nick whines, "I haven't done any kung fu in months. It's terrible." The girl shrugs and returns to painting the nails of her hot roommate.

THREE-THIRTY P.M.: After a gratifying hour and a half of learning, Nick heads to lunch with his friends Gretchen, Nancy, and Janie. "Did you see Meredith's new bra?" Nancy asks conspiratorially. "Totally skanky," Nick agrees, hoping no one will notice he is the only one of them left who doesn't yet wear said apparatus.

FOUR P.M.: After lunch, Nick uncovers a mystery in the boathouse. Using the amazing power of his brain and his magnifying glass, Nick manages to narrow down the suspects to three. First, there is Aaron, the tan, flaxen-haired, flashy-smiled football jock. Second, there is Melindo, the merman. Third, there is Wilhelm, the shy alternative punk-rock boy with purple hair.

FOUR:09 P.M.: After much consideration, Nick comes to a decision. "You're all guilty!"

FOUR-THIRTY P.M.: Nick goes to his salsa dance class. Hot-hot-hot!

FIVE-THIRTY-FIVE P.M.: As he towels off his sweaty hair in the locker room, Nick is secretly admired by some boys. "He has such pretty golden hair," one whispers to the other. "I know. And look at his red lips, like the gentle petals of a rose! I wish I could feel their velvetty whisper," the other responds. Nick turns around. "What's up, guys?" Both boys turn red. "Ah, ah, ah," says one, wringing his hands. "N-n-nothing! S, s, so Nick, uh, how about that hot, uh, girl?" Nick shrugs. "Yeah, Sharon's pretty cute, but she's not my type." The boys nod, hanging upon his every word.

SIX P.M.: Nick goes to his room and logs on to the Internet, where he is immediately greeted on IM with a cheery but embarrassing "Hi-hi, my little sugarbeet!" from SO-not-his-girlfriend. "Hey, dude," he responds gently, "How are you?" She discusses her life for awhile, repeatedly (and increasingly irritatingly) interrupting herself to ask whether Nick has become involved with anyone, when Nick's hooting frat buddies poke their heads into his room. "Dude!" they scream. "Duuuuude! Dinnertime, bo-yyyy! Whazzzzaaappppp!" Nick shakes his head, smiling, "Oh, you guys! I'm coming!"

SIX-THIRTY P.M.: Nick shares dinner with his girlfriends and boy friends at the campus Fancy Restaurant, having conserved meal points fiendishly. Over dinner, the group discusses the latest Trojan football game. Nick quietly cries because he does not have a games pass.

SIX-THIRTY-TWO P.M.: Suddenly, time freezes! Nick realizes he is the only one who can move. A cup stops in mid-shatter, shards of glass hovering above it. Apples which have apparently been being thrown around (what?) are frozen in mid-air. "Huh," says Nick.

STILL SIX-THIRTY-TWO P.M.: At that point, the restaurant is filled with light, and in walks a Veronica's Secret angel. "Who are you?" Nick demands. "I'm your Victoria's Secret guardian angel," responds the girl, "duh." Tossing her shiny hair, she continues, "I'm here to show you what your life would be like if you had a games pass."

TIME IS IMMATERIAL: Nick and the angel make their first stop at the first Trojan game of the school year. Nick sees himself cheering on the sidelines. "No!" Nick cries. "God, no! Why are you showing me this?" The angel seems surprised. "I haven't even shown you the bad part yet." "This is bad," Nick insists. Shrugging, the angel returns Nick to his own time.

SIX-THIRTY-TWO-THIRTY P.M.: Nick finds himself back in the restaurant with all of his friends, time progressing as usual. He breathes a sigh of relief as his gal pal Janie turns to him. "Are you going to the Big Game, sweetie?" (She is apparently one of those girls who calls people "sweetie".) "No I'm not," Nick grins, adding proudly, "I don't have a games pass!" Everyone is silent for a moment, bemused, while Nick preens himself and puffs out his chest like a peacock. Then someone says "Anyway," and the conversation continues as normal. But Nick has learned a lesson he will never forget.

SEVEN P.M.: Nick decides to enjoy the balmy twilight zephyrs by reading a book and sipping lemonny iced-tea under a nearby palm tree. At some point here he experiences a peak moment, during which he thinks amid peals of ecstasy, "Thank God I'm not in Rhode Island!" Just the thought of his practically-arctic home state makes him shiver. Then he touches the warm sunkissed grains of California chert. "Chert, I love you!"

SEVEN-O-THREE P.M.: Nick heads back to his room to get ready for his SO-not-a-date with his screenwriter friend.

SEVEN-THIRTY P.M.: Prompt as usual, the screenwriter, Trent, shows up at the door with a smile almost as dashing as the fact that he writes on screens.

EIGHT-O-CLOCK P.M.: Nick and Trent arrive at the L.A. Official Chinese Multiplex just in time for the evening showing of How to Love a Guy in 10 Ways.

TEN-O-FIVE P.M.: Nick and Trent emerge from the movie with much to discuss. Nick, an amateur movie critic, is almost as interested to hear what someone in the business has to say about the film as he is to relate his own take; and both have some interesting insights about character and plot development. "I liked the way to love a guy where you give him flowers," says Nick. "Really? That's intriguing," says Trent. "I liked the way to love a guy where you bring him cake." The two agree to disagree.

TEN-TEN P.M. UNTIL THREE-TEN A.M.: Nick goes to a party and gets drunk or something, I don't know. Later, Nick will be haunted by the tape recording from that night, which features his voice stating, "The older I get, the more I realize there's nothing scarier than girls!" But until then, he sleeps peacefully, and dreams of waking again the next morning in the California sunlight. He is destined not to remember this, or any of his other crazy wacky dreams. But you will always know that he dreamed about you, that night.


- Laura