Animate Me

“I’ll do that,” she says, then turns on her heel and walks towards the door.

I watch every move, committing it to memory…my fingers itching to wrap around a pencil and capture her on paper so that she’ll always be with me.

Her pale, slender hand reaches for the door, and as she pulls it open she turns back toward me, self-assured enough to know that I’m still watching her. “You know, Nathan, don’t let the cool clothes fool you. Deep down I’m a fan-girl geek…always have been, always will be. All my favorite people are too. Us geeks are the cool ones, because we are who we are; we don’t try to be anyone else. Right?”

Although I am doubtful of her declaration, I nod and smile at her before she steps from the shadow of the doorway into the sun. The girl I adore glows in the warm light, brighter than anyone else passing by. As she shimmers and moves away I realize that there is no question in my mind, even if it defies logic or reason.

I am in love.

Animate Me / Chapter Two / Chivalry 101

“Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” “Yes Brain, but why does the chicken cross the road if not for love?” ~Pinky and the Braini

I pull into the parking garage and scan the reserved spots looking for Brooke’s metallic, pale-green Prius. I usually come in before her, and today is no exception. Yet this morning the feeling of seeing her empty spot is different. Now that we’ve made a co

It occurs to me that she could be with that idiot Arnauld, who she’s rumored to be dating. The jealous beast roars inside of me. Arnauld’s an asshole, and he doesn’t deserve the perfection that is Brooke. I notice his space is empty as well, and my stomach tenses as I realize that there is every possibility that they are together right now: in the final throes of morning sex, or soaped up and showering together, or perhaps arguing as to who finished off the last of the milk for their Lucky Charms. Damn him.

I sigh heavily as I blend into the group of employees streaming out of the parking structure and marching towards the building.

I feel so different today as I go through the main entrance and walk past the neon-lit Sketch Republic sign. I am different; I want something now that I gave up wanting a long time ago. The idea of wrapping my arms around a girl and kissing her has suddenly become tangible. I want Brooke to be that girl, and that feeling’s like stretchy cellophane pulled tightly around me.

So when I reach my desk, I’m grateful to have a challenging scene to work on. For all the exuberance of animation, it’s an exacting process that requires complete concentration. I’m hoping this focus will keep me from obsessing about Brooke, but I’m doubtful.

Joel likes to assign the most physical scenes to me because he says I’m old school Tex Avery in my animation style—adopting the master’s stretch and squash flair. This week’s assignment involves a fight between Bucky and Bernie Beaver after Bernie breaks Bucky’s video game remote control. Before I start, I picture in my mind what I want to do with the characters.

I may be a quiet guy on the outside, but my work is always full of energy and expression. A surprised eye may stretch a foot long, or an open mouth’s jaw can drop to the ground. I sharpen my pencil, attach the animation paper to the pegs on the light table, and fall into my work. All of my anxiety and excitement flows through my pencil, and the resulting drawings are particularly energetic.

“Hey dude, what’s up?” Joel leans into my cubicle, and I look up at my desk clock to realize it’s almost noon. I peel out my earbuds while pulling a drawing from the stack that I know he’ll like.

“Is this what you had in mind for this scene?” Bucky has hit Bernie over the head with the broken remote, and now it’s lodged in his forehead like a horn. Bernie’s eyes are large X’s and Bucky’s smile extends freakishly past the edges of his pointed face.

“Oh, yeah,” he howls. “That’s perfect! You always make it even better than I’ve pictured it, Tex.”

Referring to me as animation great Tex Avery is a sure sign that he’s getting ready to ask for something. He usually isn’t so complimentary, and I can hear it in his voice. I raise my eyebrows and tip my head waiting.

“Listen, no pressure or anything but management is demanding all the animators do seven feet this week since we are behind schedule.”

The news is worse than I thought. “Damn, that’s over forty drawings a day. We aren’t a factory pumping out widgets.”

“Sorry. Arnauld is all over my ass because I wanted to redo that scene last week. I’ll bring lunch in for you guys today.”

I tense up and pop my earbuds back in. That jerk, Arnauld. He always expects us to work faster and get the work done cheaper. “All right, well then I better pick up the pace.”

By the afternoon my whole body is stiff from bending over the table, and I realize it’s almost four o’clock. This is our magic Starbucks time when a group of us walk over to refuel on caffeine to get us through the rest of the day. The bunch gathers near the elevator and then we pack in when it arrives. I’m squashed in the back corner with rotund Andy, in his Elmo for President T-shirt, pressing into me.

Nick groans loudly when the elevator stops at the next floor. My heart surges though when the doors part and Brooke is revealed with her hands on her hips, focused on figuring out how she will fit into the overcrowded space.

“Come on Brooke, we won’t bite,” Nick teases, as he steps to the side and she slides in next to Ge

“Yeah sure,” she responds. “Last time this happened, I ended up with a ‘fragile’ sticker on my ass.”

“Well, that wouldn’t have been me, darling. You’re one tough cookie—anything but fragile.”

She smiles at him. “So where are all of you going anyway?” she asks, craning her neck and sca

“Our afternoon Starbucks run,” he responds. “It’s the only way we can survive the tedium of this animation chain gang.”

“Oh, you poor, poor animators!” she says, rolling her eyes. “Go work at Disney then. They serve Starbucks in the break rooms. Of course that means you may have to do Mickey Mouse and that princess stuff.”

“No!” yells out crazy Andy, like he’s just been stabbed in the gut. “Anything but that!”

“Well, why am I not invited on these coffee runs, huh? Are you too good for me?” Brooke asks.

“Look, guys, the development queen wants to hang with the hired help. Well, come with us, your majesty,” says Nick.

She frowns. “I can’t. I have a meeting. A really, really important meeting.”

“Uh huh…” he says playfully.

“Your job may depend on me being at this meeting. No worries though, our mutual caffeine fulfillment is far more important.”

Nick turns to Andy. “See…she’s such a tease. And I bet she drinks one of those stupid drinks too, like a half-caf soy caramel macchiato with two pumps of sugar-free vanilla and a Splenda very, very gently stirred in.”

“Three pumps,” she responds before she makes a grand exit when the door opens on the second floor. My eyes bug out as she steps out to head down the hallway. Her slacks hug her round bottom perfectly, and she turns back with a pivot to look in the car. Our eyes meet for a moment and she smiles, recognizing me. “Later, kids,” she says happily before she turns away. My heart is thundering like a tribal drum.

Everyone’s chattering so much in line that they don’t seem to notice until we are almost back to the studio that I’m holding two drinks.

“Are you double fisting these days?” Nick asks, studying my two cups.