Day 2: 4,002 Words

 

Like both of you, today was a bit of a slog for me. I got through with a little inspiration from Jill, and a lot of inspiration from last year's antics at Jackie's Place. This is another excerpt from Abigail's life, which is currently much more interesting than Isla's life. 

She couldn’t remember much about that first night that she went to Jackie’s Place. She remembered walking through the door, and hearing an Aerosmith cover band called “Broken Aero” crooning the opening notes of “Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing.” She is certain that they played this song several more times as the night went on, and somehow, it got better each time. She also remembers ordering a beer from the barback, Jackie. The menu literally listed “beer” as the only option, and after seeing his grumpy expression, she thought better about probing for any further details. She’d somehow made it home without further memories, leaving her to wonder why her socks had a distinct urine odour that never seemed to leave no matter how many times she washed them. 

This time, Abigail was meeting James—James!—for a drink to discuss work. It was shaping up to be just another great day at Jackie’s Place. A live band was performing, although she couldn’t make out anything except for the loud bass line. When the band came into view, the reason that she was confused about the band was quite clear. They were calling themselves “Death Lab for Treatie,” and were performing a rendition of “I Will Possess Your Snack.” 

The band itself wasn’t too surprising to Abigail. In the intervening years since she had first come to Jackie’s Place, for some reason that was never clearly explained, Jackie had decided to only hire Labrador retriever-themed cover bands. 

He explained it thusly: “Everyone knows I only hire lab-themed cover bands. Always have, always will.”

Whether or not “everyone knows” something that was demonstrably untrue was another question, but no one was willing to question his contention that he would only hire lab-themed cover bands in the future. Poor Broken Aero. They were as close to a “house band” for Jackie’s Place as there had ever been, and they had to completely change their act to fit Jackie’s absurd demands. They put in their best effort: they tried to get a version of “Labby’s Got a Gun” going, but their hearts just weren’t in it. Jackie never hired them again and they eventually broke up. 

And here, I'm just introducing the Feuding Celebrities Support Group. Something fun to write tomorrow!

“Thank you for meeting me here,” James said as he spotted Abigail. 

“Sorry about the sunglasses indoors. You know how it is. With the fans.”  

“Oh, yes,” Abigail replied, trying to sound like she knew what she was talking about. 

“I didn’t have you pegged as a Jackie’s Place loyalist.” 

“You’ve got me all wrong, then!” he smiled. “I’ve been coming here since the first Dawson’s Creek press tour that took us to Toronto. Katie Holmes and I lost to Josh Jackson and Michelle Williams in beer pong. The loss still stings. I really wanted that pack of Chiclets and the red whistle.” 

Abigail could tell that the regret was very real. 

“Well I always appreciate an excuse to come to Jackie’s Place. I can’t get enough of the lab-themed cover bands,” Abigail remarked, not knowing what else to say since the purpose of the meeting was mostly unclear. 

“I come here every Wednesday for the support group meeting that I run,” James responded. 

Abigail didn’t say anything, since she assumed that it was probably some kind of Alcoholics Anonymous-type organization. It seemed rude to pry. It also seemed weird to hold such a meeting in a bar, but she could also understand how being in Jackie’s Place could put a person off drinking. 

“We’re actually meeting in about half an hour. I wanted to talk to you before, though, because I read your draft of the episode 17 script.” 

“Yes?” Abigail started sweating profusely. She wished she had applied her prescription-strength deodorant, but she had foolishly only used extra-strength today. 

“I loved it,” James smiled. Abigail breathed a sigh of relief. 

A beer had, at one point, appeared in front of her. She didn’t know how or why, but in Jackie’s Place, you learned not to ask questions. 

“I just feel like you get my character in a way that a lot of others don’t,” James continued. “Dawson is still sensitive, but less of a dreamer than he used to be. The death of his wife and Jenny’s mother assured that. I just feel like you captured his, I don’t know,” he trailed off. 

“I don’t think there’s a word that does Dawson justice,” Abigail said flatteringly. 

“That’s exactly it!” James said as he tossed his scarf over his shoulder. 

“And because I am so impressed with your grasp of all things Dawson, I wanted to start brainstorming story arcs for my character for season two.” 

Abigail smiled at him. “There’s nothing I would rather do.” 

They traded ideas about what could happen to Dawson in an event-filled second season. They both agreed that Dawson should have a hair dye job gone wrong, and kick around the browns one more time. They both thought that he should have a romance with a local single mom, one who hadn’t been introduced yet. No one who was already on the show could match Dawson in charisma or flair. They were also hoping to deepen Dawson’s feud with local dad Jim Ribbins, played by the inimitable Taylor Kitsch. 

Just as they were planning out a story arc for him involving a bar fight with Ribbins after he insulted the television show he created called The Creek for the lack of diversity on the show (fair) and the endless slut-shaming of character Jess Larson (a surprising point for local pig Ribbins to be making, but whatever), they were interrupted by the arrival at their booth of Taylor Kitsch himself. 

He nodded at Abigail, who was sure that he recognized her but didn’t know her name. 

“We’re all here and waiting for you,” he said, gesturing to a group of people huddled by a tiny coffee dispenser and a plate of muffins that Abigail could tell, from a distance, was stale. 

Abigail could sense that Kitsch was agitated. Fair enough, she thought to herself. She would feel pretty agitated if she was attending some kind of substance abuse support group at Jackie’s Place, too.