Congratulations on Living Your Dream for a Weekend!

She’ll rise smiling from your bed and grab the crumpled bills from your bedstand, stuffing them into her purse as she bounces to the bathroom. She’ll sway like an angel, the momentum of her hips forcing your brain to mirror their stagger. Her ass will be a perfect little flat thing, gorgeous and unselfconscious, and her smile as she catches you staring at it will be what you’d always dreamed of seeing over a pretty woman’s shoulder as she went to relieve herself after ruining you for all other comers.

You’ll lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as she does her business, retracing the steps that brought you to this point. That unchecked bit of stock growth, the rush to sell your shares, the purchase of a gorgeous studio apartment in Los Angeles’ least douchey district. And then the follow-ups: the new investments, not so dramatic as to overtax your newfound savings, the new televisions and the Netflix subscription, the back rent payments to your mom. Your life became a life again. You stopped temping. You started enjoying yourself, reading again. And after that it was only a matter of time before your sex drive returned.

You were excited when you heard that Dollhouse was cancelled, not out of any ire towards the show but because you knew it would give you a chance to fix your newfound problem. With Dollhouse’s cancellation Eliza Dushku would be looking for looking for work. As Joss Whedon himself once wrote, any job would do.

Her agent knew what you wanted after less than a minute on the phone with you. “You want her to basically pretend she’s the character she played on Dollhouse, pretending she’s someone else sleeping with someone who hired her to pretend to be that person?” he’ll say as you struggle to explain the details of your fantasy.

“Which person?” you’ll ask, a little confused.

“The third one. The character’s character,” he’ll say. From the tone of his voice it’ll be clear he has this conversation frequently.

“Oh. Yeah. Totally,” you’ll stumble. He’ll quote you a five figure sum for one weekend and you’ll assent immediately. He’ll take down your information, facilitate the transfer and let you know the date that Ms. Dushku will be arriving.

She’ll have arrived at 9 AM sharp, a smile on her face, and she’ll have pushed you inside your house and mumbled “Let’s get started” into your ear as she groped your crotch.

But now she’ll be emerging from your bathroom, still smiling. You’ll wonder if she was crying in there, if she sometimes gets sad that the shows she works on all seem to fail so quickly and completely. You’ll wonder if she even thinks about it anymore, the chances she takes not working out. As she lays down in bed next to you and asks what’s on your mind you’ll decide that she’s okay, even if she isn’t necessarily happy.

Congratulations on Living Your Dream for a Weekend!