This Mini Challenge Consists Of:
Date A Celebrity!
-Close Your Eyes!
-Imagine You Just Won A Contest Consisting Of A Date (Dinner And A Movie)
-You Get To Choose Any Celebrity/Singer/Sports Star To Go On A Date With
-FYI:Cartoon characters are exempt.
-FYI:Cartoon characters are exempt.
-Mission
-Write A Blog Post Telling Me Who You Would Choose
-Explain Why You Choose Them
-Be Creative In Your Post (maybe include a picture of said person or tell me what you would order for dinner)
-Leave Link To Your Blog Post In The Comments Section
-US Only (unless you have someone to ship to you internationally)People on the busy city streets skirted around a prone form rudely obstructing pedestrian traffic. The prone form, a girl with dark-hair, lay ungracefully upon the pavement. She sat up with a groan, clutching her head. Ow, she thought. What happened?
"Careful now, darling." A hand suddenly appeared on her lower back, supporting her. "You seem to have struck your head."
The girl looked up to see a young Cary Grant sitting beside her, a crease between his brows. The narrowed her eyes and cocked her head slightly to the side, inspecting him. "Why," she said suspiciously, "aren't you in black and white?"
The impossible man's brows rose but his eyes never left hers. "I wasn't aware I was limited to only two colors. My apologies."
The girl squeezed her eyes shut tight and shook her head, her brown hair flapping wildly about her and striking her cheeks. From beneath her curtain of hair she opened one eye and peeked out at him.
"Still there," she sighed. "Why aren't you dead?" She cast a look about her and absorbed her surroundings. "I don't know where this is. Maybe it's me that's dead?" The girl returned her head to its cocked position and inspected the man crouching beside her. "I never thought I'd end up in heaven. My family must have prayed an awful lot."
The brows descended, furrowing yet again. His lips, which had previously been quirked up slightly as if she amused him, frowned. "You seem to be more grievously injured than I had suspected."
He spent the next minute quizzing her on her name and how old she was. Tina, she replied, eighteen. The questions continued but her replies ceased. She didn't see the point in answering beyond her name and age, since she was either dreaming or dead. Cary Grant sighed and hailed a cab.
"Where are we going?", Tina asked dreamily as he gently deposited her into the taxi and gracefully slid in beside her.
"To dinner." He glanced sidelong at her. "Unless you know better than to accept food from a stranger and would like me to take you home...?"
"Can we have sushi?"
With a sigh, Cary Grant leaned forward and gave the cabbie directions. He sat back in his seat and studied his date for the evening. She prattled on about something called "The Philadelphia Story" and someone named "C.K. Dexter Haven". As she talked, she grew more animated. She made sweeping gestures with her hands that caused her hands to brush up against his jacket or whack into the glass window. Each time her hand connected, she apologized (to both him and the inanimate window.)
As the cab wove through traffic, her chatter dwindled and she sat in thoughtful silence.
"Is something the matter?" He asked, suddenly how he had come across her. It was hard to believe someone so energetic could be injured.
"Well", she began hesitantly, "I was just wondering..."
"Yes?", he prompted.
"Can I wear your hat?"
Cary Grant removed his fedora and handed it to her. "Yes," he said gravely, "You may".
She placed it carefully on her head and then continued to twitch it with her fingers until it sat at a rakish angle. She beamed a smile at him. She wore it throughout the rest of their evening, except for when he made her take it off at dinner.
