Still, when my phone rang at 3 AM, I wasn’t quite prepared.
“MOV, don’t hang up,” she said, as if I would ever hang up on the source of my inspiration, “you are my one phone call.” I heard sirens in the background.
Turns out, she had been arrested for resisting arrest.“How can you be arrested for resisting arrest?” I asked the policeman at the desk.
“Well, technically, we pulled her over on suspicion of DUI, but then her blood alcohol level tested clean as water. But she did seem drunk. She’s an enigma, that one.” He shrugged, then went back to scribbling down important police notes.“I posted your bail,” I said to Muse as a different policeman unlocked her cell, “you owe me.”
She guffawed. “Let me get this straight: I have inspired every word you’ve ever written, yet I owe you? Ha!”
I did not like this bitchy side of her. The policeman suppressed a smile. Even messy, Muse titillated men and women alike. She was like a magnet, a beautiful and defiant magnet.
I took a deep breath and stated calmly, “Muse, I called an attorney. You’re paying for that, though, I don’t care how many good ideas you have. I am running out of patience and money.”She sauntered over to a small mirror hung on the side of the office and studied her reflection. She puckered up her lips provocatively; I thought she might kiss the glass.
“That’s okay, I think I’m going to stay here.” She winked at me, then went back in her cell.