Getting The Call

The moment I've waited for my entire writing career finally arrived.

I'd always envisioned getting the call from an agent who gushed over my book, while I, cool as a cucumber said, "Why thank you, I'm so pleased you enjoyed it." Somehow a purple plumed pen was worked in the scenario, I don't know where or when, but believe me, it was there. I would waft across the house to find my husband doing manly things of some sort. He'd glance at me with one of 'those' looks. "Not now, my dear, I got the call. I have an agent." Oh yes, this is where the purple plumed pen comes into play.

Life is nothing like my fantasy world.

I was sitting in a crowded shuttle bus full of Polar Bear Plungers when my new IPhone rang. The number of Jewelann Cone,the agent that I'd submitted my big opus to, showed up on caller I.D. I frantically tried to answer the call. Nothing happened. I think my phone smirked. What did I do wrong? The whole time I'm juggling my phone, I'm being bumped by clowns who are buried up to their ears in parkas and giant Smurfs. I'm nose to crotch with a guy whose duffle bag comes close to clobbering me upside the head with every bump of the shuttle bus. Fairy princess wings flutter around me until I wanted to swat them away like gnats.

I looked to the back of the bus for my husband. Maybe he could help. He works in It and is my techie guru--without him, my ability to write would be nil. I'm one of these people who walks into a computer store with a glazed look on my face while he's like a kid in a candy store. He once tried to explain the binary system to me. It stripped the insulation on my brain.

Back to the 'Big Moment'.

My husband, he's the crazy one who planned to plunge into the icy waters of Longview Lake, chatted away to his sister, who is equally nuts. No amount of arm waving got his attention. It's time to go for broke. Surely I can be smarter than a phone. Don't make any bets. Anyway, I pulled off my gloves to get a better grip on the slippery sucker and low and behold, the darn thing likes 'skin to skin'. Who knew?

A bit of pained, logical thinking and I was able to call Jewelann back. Then she said the magical words I'd longed for, "I'd like to represent you."

I screamed back over the noise of the crowd. "What?"

"I'd like to represent you."

A couple of minutes of trying to talk and I gave up. I told her I'd call her back when I got settled. The noise grew worse. There were over 1100 crazy people who decided to take the plunge for Special Olympics. It's a great cause but I'm a big believer in pancake breakfasts as a fundraiser.

I finally found a quiet spot, if you can call trying to compete with the Allman Brothers Band's 'Ramblin' Man' quiet. My husband is running around in a diaper and top hat as the New Year's Baby. I'm talking to Jewelann when I hear the announcer for the Polar Bear Plunge say the Plunge is now complete because she saw a dude in a diaper. The 'Dude' won first place in the costume contest.

Okay, so the Big Moment didn't go like I'd always thought it would, but nothing can take away the thrill I felt when I got the call. Thank you, Jewelann, for being the one part of my fantasy that was true.