There were no cars traveling the streets, and I think it might have been nighttime. On the highway was a movie set. Not that it was a highway scene they were filming; the entire set had been constructed there. There was nothing to tell me who the actors were, because they looked nothing like I knew them to be. Or maybe I didn�t know, because the people milling about had hazy, nondescript features. Still, I knew that among them were Harrison Ford, Jodie Foster, Anthony Hopkins, and Jack Nicholson.
I didn�t know what they were filming, and I don�t know if that even mattered. What mattered was the fact that I was less than one hundred feet from some of the film greats of our time. So there we all stood, hanging over the low wall, straining to catch a glimpse of the movie unfolding before us. �Teenagers, we need teenagers,� someone called. That someone must have been a member of the film crew, for she was holding a clipboard. �The first twenty-five,� she said. �You, you, you�� I was more than surprised when she brandished her finger at me. Shocked, really. Beaming, I stepped over the wall to join the line of youth like me.
We marched like soldiers after our leader with the clipboard into a red brick building. Also on that upper level of highway. �You are cheerleaders.� She said the three words matter-of-factly, gesturing for us each to take a dressing room to change into our outfits. As soon as we were housed into our small boxes, a different woman wheeled a cart by, tossing random cheerleader outfits our way. I picked mine up. Boy, it was small. I checked the tag. Small. Joy. Now, I�m not a LARGE person, but there was no way in hell I was going to fit into that thing! And I certainly was not going to humiliate myself by stuffing my frame into something better suited to fit a smaller figure in a movie with some of the people I had idolized for years.
I peeked my head around the stall next to me. In it, another girl about my size stared skeptically at an equally small outfit. �Nope. Not gonna happen,� she said, looking at me. So this was show business. Tossing outfits our way without regard to size seemed�typical. Well, stereotypical. They were just too busy to do things right, and we could be replaced more than easily if we complained. I watched as the other girl attempted to squeeze into the skirt.
I was about to hail the woman with the cart when a man called into a megaphone, �Listen up, cheerleaders. I�m sorry, but your scene has been cut. Please remove your uniforms and return them to the hampers, then follow me.�
I wasn�t sure if I was relieved for not having to stuff myself into that thing, or disappointed at the lost chance to be in a movie. I once again joined the ranks as we marched after a new leader. I had no idea where we were going. The girl who had been in the stall next to me was now in line behind me. To my amazement, our line stopped behind a table. At the table sat Harrison Ford, Jodie Foster, Anthony Hopkins, and Jack Nicholson. To compensate us for our scene being cut, these four were signing black-and-white glossies of themselves.
I grinned as I got my copy of the picture signed by all four, then clasped it to my chest as I left to find my family. Beaming all the way back to the Mission Bay Hilton, I kept stealing glances at the picture. I had been there, not two feet from these people. Once in our room, I set the picture on the nightstand and crawled into bed. I closed my eyes to dream of the wonderful evening I had just spent.
I opened my eyes to the hazy morning light filtering in through the curtains of the hotel room. My heart stopped with the realization that my adventures in movieland had been just a dream. I turned to switch on the lamp on the nightstand and my hand fell across a glossy picture. It hadn�t been a dream! It had really happened! I was more than excited. Giddy, almost. What a story I would have to tell when I returned home!
The alarm jarred me from my sleep, and I awoke to another morning in sunny San Diego.