Saturday, January 07, 2012

NOTM – Local Man Makes Like Bradley Cooper in “Limitless”

Rockville, MD – On a rainy day off from work, Morris Herlis settled into a caramelized onion brown lounge chair at his local coffee shop. He readied himself with a medium cup of caffeine, cream, and caramel syrup that was much too sweet, as the shop’s folksy-blues-reggae music was just loud enough that he couldn’t quite understand the conversation across the room.

“That guy, Bradley Cooper, in the movie Limitless," Morris said having watched the movie alone last night, "he had serious writer’s block, but with a special drug he wrote a novel in three days."  He went to his own source to score some writer’s block drugs.  And enjoy an egg and cheese croissant. With his laptop plugged in and drugs coursing through his bloodstream, his creative writing outlet was powered.

Bradley Cooper didn't know he was inspiring Morris' epic composition.

"Now I'm ready to do some serious writing," Morris announced.  He brushed his fingers on the touch pad and opened a blank canvas. It stared back and Morris froze. The cursor blinking to his ever accelerating heartbeat. The artist in residence shied away, adjusted his jacket, and took off his shoes. “It’s easier to write with proper lumbar support and non-constricted feet,” he noted.

Ergonomically comfortable, Morris took a few bites of his croissant and washed it down with another concentrated drug hit. “Ya ever try counting the number of ceiling tiles in this place?  It's dizzying”.  He then gazed to the olive green walls with Santa Fe gold accents for inspiration, but an hour after settling into his chair, the screen remained blank.

Of the people in this picture, three of them are distracted from their writing assignments.

“I was just about to get started when a guy asked me to provide security detail for his laptop.” Morris graciously put his writing on hold while a mid-30s man with a shirt from Brooks Brothers and hair suited for the Berkeley Bowl went to the bathroom. "He finally came back two minutes later, but I lost all of my momentum. It’s really difficult to get back in that writing groove I was in before.”

Morris slumped in his chair and titled his head back for clarity.  The ceiling tiles were counted again.

Then the drugs started to work. Morris' head whipped down, his eyes widening, and fingers furiously firing.  The composition he had waited for spewed out quicker than he could type, "Dear Uncle Felix, Thanks for the gift."

He clicked send and left the coffee shop.