Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in


    being sent
    on location again
    for another night shoot
    once more as an on-set dresser,
    though I strongly object to it
    basically protest
    Bonnie Mae's decision
    rather vehemently
    because I'll have to leave Shara
    home alone and on her own.
    I'm defeated.
    my concerns fall flat
    on deaf ears.

    I know
    I've got to work.
    it's taken me years
    just to get to this point
    I can't gamble it away.
    I just hope Shara will be okay.
    I'll be gone
    mostly during her sleep cycle.

    Shara seems
    completely fine,
    even at ease with it.
    she also promises
    to take all of her medications
    and go to bed early.

    I'm not superstitious,
    my fingers are nonetheless crossed
    for tonight.

    here I am,
    once again with
    the shooting company
    way up in another part
    of the Hollywood Hills.
    I'm guessing
    I did such a sterling job
    the last time
    that they wanted me back.
    at least
    I'd like to think so.

    to be easy though,
    so I'm told.
    only five set-ups
    and we're out.
    we could be done
    by midnight.

    to think
    I never heard that one

    I don't know
    how location managers
    ever find spots like this,
    the place
    we're shooting at
    is a large and older
    Mediterranean style house
    off of Sunset Plaza Drive,
    high up over the lights
    of Los Angeles
    and the Sunset Strip,
    with Laurel Canyon
    just 10 minutes to the east.
    other than being quite isolated,
    the home looks rather ordinary
    from the outside.


    what lies
    inside that makes it
    a very unique environment.
    and that's very encouraging,
    certainly for Bonnie Mae,
    who sees no reason to change a thing.
    of course,
    some of the stuff
    might need to be greeked-out,
    while other things simply dressed-out
    or moved by me.
    as I was told,
    the entire interior
    with its many furnishings
    and numerous items
    is to be shot
    AS IS...
    as per the director.
    in fact,
    dear old Bonnie Mae
    doesn't even need to step inside the place

    too creepy!

    for a tough old veteran
    of a set decorator
    such as her.

    I drift
    past the oversized
    ironclad front door
    the first thing I see upon entering
    the huge cavernous living room
    is a long and narrow swimming pool.
    this director seems to have a thing
    for unusual pools.
    there's something odd
    about this one...
    it's strange looking.

    construction crew
    has just finished building
    yet another ramp under water
    so that the actors can walk and talk
    and float about
    without any fear of drowning.
    most of the action
    takes place in and around
    the indoor pool.

    as I walk in
    just a little farther,
    it suddenly hits me
    like a dumb brick!
    gazing at the pool
    from another angle,
    I immediately realize
    that it looks like an erection!
    there are even two smaller round pools
    at the shallow end
    where the testicles would be...
    one of them is a wading area
    while the other one is a jacuzzi.


    plenty weird.

    all around
    I begin noticing
    that every single thing here
    is blatantly related to sex somehow.
    besides the obvious
    framed paintings and pictures
    of naked men and women
    engaged in various sexual activities,
    there are mirrored ceilings
    virtually everywhere,
    including the kitchen.
    there are also
    well framed pieces
    of women's undergarments,
    mostly bras and panties,
    throughout the place
    with little printed statements under glass,
    little sayings like
    You Can Dispense With This!
    real corny and lame shit.

    the furniture
    has sexual renderings.
    an extra long sofa
    looking like a hardon
    sits in the main living area
    complete with chenille pillows
    made to resemble balls
    placed at the appropriate end
    of the outrageous piece.
    a long stylized oval coffee table
    finished to appear like a vagina
    fronts the strange looking couch.
    on either side of the grouping
    are some oversized plush chairs
    resembling some very large breasts.

    a way,
    it's a style
    unto its very own.
    I call it obsessive-sicko.
    I think Bonnie Mae would agree.
    I mean,
    what kind of person
    would do this sort of thing?
    I guess someone who's got some
    terrible psycho-sexual problematic needs
    stuck inside his brain
    who's got plenty of time on his hands
    and much money in his pockets.
    from the looks of things,
    I'd probably say
    he's got way too much of all three.

    a far corner
    are a dark variety
    of dungeon effects
    with assorted racks and restraints.
    in the center of the area
    is an iron maiden
    a bed of nails,
    along with other torture devices
    that can't help
    to be sexually construed,
    certainly by the S&M crowd.

    old fashion telephone
    mounted to a post by the bar
    has its two large bells painted to look like
    cartooney pink breasts.
    there are also
    a dozen vending machines
    located throughout the ample space
    fully capable of dispensing sexual products
    like condoms
    and French ticklers.

    then there's
    the crown jewel,
    so to speak.
    an elaborately crafted chess set
    sits on a pedestal
    within a lounging area near the bar
    that's artistically made up
    of both phallic and yonic
    chess pieces.


    rest of the large room
    is loaded with pornographic
    and erotic art and statuettes.
    not to be outdone,
    there's a small theatre,
    with a sizable porno video library
    built around a large widescreen tv.

    what it's worth,
    you can't find this sort of stuff,
    not very easily.
    you'd have to make it
    pretty much from scratch,
    build it yourself.
    that's quite a costly procedure,
    especially by Hollywood standards.

    maybe Shara and I
    might have some kicks
    staying here for a night or two,
    only after she's well.
    I could never see myself living here.
    nor for that matter
    can I even stretch my imagination
    far enough to ever know
    what the owner's like.
    I'm assured
    there's no worry about that,
    since he's out of town
    for the night.

    the crew
    is starting to arrive.
    it's time to grab my mop
    from off of the prop truck
    maybe get a quick beer
    before I go searching for
    a comfortable spot
    to sit in
    for the next 12 hours.

    is truly amazing
    is that I got one of the world's
    hottest and greatest of beauties
    just waiting for me
    at home,
    while I have to sit
    in this decrepit place
    that's dedicated
    to the attainment of sexual fulfillment.

    irony be my guide.

    oh well...

    be a good time
    to just sit and fondly realize
    just how lucky
    I am.


    (c)2014 Miles Ciletti
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.