Feed Me

Here's a sample of my attempt to write something humorous.  I wrote it for Perspectives -- a magazine that uses inanimate objects as the stories' narrators.  Anyway, enjoy

PLEASE FEED ME, MON CHERI

“Mon cheri, feed me.  Feed me, and I’ll tell you that you’re pretty.”

            “More, more, there’s never enough!”

            While she was dressing, I told Mlle Amélie about the sale at Mimi’s Closet—the chic new boutique located down the street.  “Hurry, Mademoiselle!  You’d really look awesome in those skinny jeans; you could always top ‘em off with that soft chiffon top.  Ah superbe!”

            Just yesterday, I saw Mademoiselle drooling over Mimi’s ad in the newspaper.  Mlle Amélie shook her head and said, “I'd like to go shopping, but I can’t afford any more new clothes right now.”

            Seriously?  Hasn’t she heard of layaway?  Mimi’s offers layaway; it’s an absolutely amazing service and a great way to get the clothes Mademoiselle wants right now.

            “I’m hungry, Mademoiselle.  Let’s eat in tonight and order online.  It’ll be just you and me, mon cheri.”  Like she heard me.

            Putting together outfits is so much fun.  Darling, you look simply ravishing in that tailored suit.  It’d look perfect with that Chantilly lace blouse.

            Just the other day I watched Mlle Amélie primping in front of her mirror when suddenly her dress swayed back and forth. 

            “Oh, what’s that you asked?  A belt?  Sure you could sooo wear a belt with that.  What about that cute item you saw at the Fashion Barn?”

            “No, mon ami,” she drawled with her French accent.  “That is too expensive.”

            “Expensive?  No!  Everything’s affordable.  Remember, Mademoiselle’s got that shiny new Visa card with a $2,000 limit.”

            Gosh.  I’m bored, really bored.  And, can you believe it?  Humans call this 12x14 room a closet—just who are they kidding!  I’m suffocating in here!  I want to get out and have a little fun.  Surely we could meet her friends at the outlet mall and shop all day.  Yes, I’m full, but I can always eat more!

            Speaking of eating….I see Mademoiselle has put on a little weight.  This morning I heard her talking about a diet.  What?  A diet?  Silly woman!  All she needs is just a few new loose-fitting tops.  She should check out the sale at Macys.

            Yikes!  Now she’s filled her hubby’s side.  He doesn’t look happy with us.  Well, we have seven days to get me organized.

            Unbelievable!  Her sweetly-scented, seductive dress claimed that Mlle Amélie is overwhelmed because she can’t ever find what she’s looking for in here.

            “Overwhelmed?  Balderdash!  Has she no guts?  No glory?  Hasn’t Mademoiselle heard of the closet solutions at the Container Store?”

            Mademoiselle!  You heard me!  These closet rod organizers are just perfect.  And those huggable hangers are to die for!  Ah, what a relief.  I can breathe again!

            “Oh, don’t wear that dress!  You look frumpy in it.”  Mlle Amélie cocked her head and looked at another outfit.  “Nope.  Not that one either.  That style is sooo yesterday.  I have a solution—just put it on a hanger back here in the back.  See.  That’s easy enough."

            Mademoiselle wants to go out tonight.  “What about that crepe outfit, mon ami?” she asked. 

            “What’s that you said, mon cheri?  You love it?  Yes, I understand.  And I remember how excited and giddy you were when you first wore it.  But, it’s just too snug now.”

            With that, the French princess threw herself down on her bed.  “I’m offended.  You really hurt my feelings.”

            “I know this is gonna sound harsh, but it’s just an old dress, right?  Keep the memories, not the clothes.”

            “But how, monsieur?”

            “How?  Surely you’ve heard of the resale shop in town.  The woman who owns that shop will give you cash for your gently-used and slightly out-of-style clothes.”

            “Well, that didn’t last long.  Now I’m hungry again.  Feed me.

            “Great choice, Mademoiselle.  I love that little number; it kisses the tips of your shoulders.  Oooh, la, la.  Plus the metallic embellishments tell me that you’re unique, and I’ll be the talk of the town for sure!”

            Shoes?  Don’t forget the shoes.  I loved ‘em all:  60s pumps, go-go boots, and platforms from the 70s.  And those 80s sneakers were totally rad.  Remember?  Mademoiselle was stunning in those stilettos.

            Can you believe what those ungrateful, two-faced dresses said to me this morning?  They had the nerve to tell me that I was obsessive.  Who me?  Obsessive?  Absolutely not!  I just need variety in my life.

            “Hey, look out the window, Mademoiselle!  Your neighbor’s having a garage sale.  I’ve seen her; she’s got terrific taste.  I bet Mademoiselle can pick up some items real cheap.”

            Qui darling!  I think you could totally refashion that maxi-skirt into a dress.  ‘How creative’!”

            Ahem!  Ahem!  I’m choking.  It’s stuffy in here.  Too many clothes?  Nonsense!  Me compulsive?  Addictive?  Surely you jest?  Clothes are just the way I define myself.

            “Mlle Amélie, why did you stop feeding me?  You’ve gotta know that I’m hungry.  You know you need me, mon cheri.  No.  I don’t think you have issues.  Don’t you want to go to the mall?  Open the door.  It’ll be like old times.  We’ll both feel better.  Promise!”

            OMG!  No!  Mademoiselle has turned off the light AND shut the door.  Now she’s ignoring me.  I fear something’s come between us.  What is it?  Mlle Amélie knows I can’t stand the silent treatment.  Tell her, please, not to leave me alone in the darkness.

            “Where are you, Mlle Amélie?  Help me!  I’m scared and all alone in here.  Help!  Where are you?  Tell me you’re not ending our relationship?  Please!  Please!  Mademoiselle, open the door!  Where are you?  I’ll stop talking!  Promise.”