I find it hard to believe Natalie Portman has any interest in me at all considering up until that conversation Natalie Portman is far too busy with herself and perhaps creating a suitable “wife of Jesus” reputation. All I could tell you is she is incompatible and we both hate Nicole. Nicole tells me Portman wants my Jeep. I make a lot of Natalie Portman and I fall in love jokes. I tell the people I had not seen “V for Vendetta” yet. Apparently Portman thinks I should see the movie.
I think if Natalie Portman wants me so badly she can buy the Jeep from me. By the time I am ready to sell the Jeep, because I need to, Natalie Portman has not showed up. She has a friend that was apparently running interference for her. You see, Natalie Portman is too busy and important for Defender of Israel. “Natalie Raps” was supposed to be her way of saying she is like me. Or thinks of herself as Ms. Reaper, or something. Whatever. She must think I’m a sick puppy not the man who survived countless assassination attempts so she could build a strong reputation of being the children’s ideal queen of something. Portman’s friend in the vicinity knew I was interested in either of them, but at some point it is time to “piss or get off the pot.” Trying to chase down Natalie Portman is not on my agenda.
Portman does not show up in the period of time of my tenancy at Marina Harbor, when people were trying to kill me and the Torah was changing. Apparently she cannot find Phoenix. At one point during my stay with the drug addicts and ex-cons of TLC I tell them I must be playing “Waiting for Portman. So, where is she?” I can tell they think this is really funny.
By the time I get back to Cali I have a few run-ins with crazy old ladies. Eventually, I see Portman makes the cover of VOGUE. As bizarre as that sounds, I know that must be a clue Portman is about to show up; just really late. I could use a hand. I am about to get canned at Pep Boys because this is the world of “accept abuse from crazy old ladies, Jesus.”
I go to the Post Office one morning on one of my last days at work. I know they are about to fire me because a crazy old lady (not my boss) in the parking lot and I got into an argument. This crazy old lady tells the store manager I called her “a bitch” which I did not and because I got angry the crazy old lady began to cry. Doctors and lawyers move in because the crazy old lady cried. And regardless of all the people I helped in my time at Pep Boys in Mesa and Thousand Oaks my job is about to be taken from me. This is my version of what happened next.
Before I go to work I was running errands. As I walk out of the Thousand Oaks Post Office Natalie Portman walks in. I notice her and she smiles in that “Oh my God. Jesus noticed me and was checking me out!” smile. I walk into the parking lot and there is my Jeep Liberty, right in front. I walk around it to be sure that Portman has in fact gained possession of my Jeep Liberty because making sure Nicole does not get it is the most important thing. No, that does not make any sense to me, either.
Talking to me in person should have been the top priority. Portman takes it for granted I am going to survive the Charades and assassination attempts and thinks if she gets a piece of my property then that means I want her. It’s really late in the game, there is no script here because this is real, but I decide to give her the chance. This is Natalie Portman we are talking about; she is a really important person.
As I come around the corner of my old vehicle Portman exits the post office and runs to the Jeep’s front door.
Me: “Is that a 2002?” I am smiling at her with my “Wow. Natalie Portman finally has time for me” smile. I could really use some help here.
Portman: “Yeah.” She stops dead in her tracks.
Me: “I used to drive that vehicle. Do you like it?” Despite all the abuse and nonsense I am still in control.
Portman: Falls back first onto the drive’s door. She is quivering as if she has never been this scared in her life. “Yeah. It’s nice.” she manages to utter. She is shaking very forcefully by the time she finishes that sentence.
Me: “Good.” I think, okay is this where we fall in love? I am waiting for her to deliver the next line. I thought I looked okay that day. I really don’t think I am that scary; I was smiling and looking back and forth at her and the Jeep. I think something along the lines of “Show me what you got, Portman because I could really use some help now.” I was not thinking “ANI MOSCHIACH, BITCH!”
I would have moved a bit closer but remained a respectable distance away, because it seemed if I took a step closer she would have a heart attack. I wait and wait. She seems to be getting more and more scared. I wonder “Why she is so scared?” I have no idea, but she is. This is not going well. I let her I know how I feel about this by giving her the “V for Vendetta” grin and walk off. “V for Vendetta” was not my idea but it is one of those prophecy movies, made by the creators of the Matrix, no less. She holds up both hands in a very melodramatic “Ugh! stay away” gesture with both hands, gets into the driver’s seat of my old Jeep Liberty and drives off.
It had to be Natalie Portman’s worst audition ever.
CONCLUSION: BZZZZZZ! NISHY’S NOT WORTHY!