I saw this headline on the AP today:
“Models predicted New Orleans disaster, experts say:”
Ha! You know what they really mean but wouldn’t that be great? Someone tall and skinny and hot (like me) walking down a runway – people are buzzing around backstage dressing a young woman, she’s scrambling to get in her heel when suddenly she’s overcome. She gets a faraway look in her eyes – different from the one she gets when she’s coked-up or hungry.
“Hurry Katrina! You’re next! Go! Go! Go!”
Katrina stops like she’s hearing a ghost. “Yes, they shall call it Katrina and it will be the worst natural disaster in the history of America.”
The dresser stops, confused, “Huh?”
Katria only wearing one shoe tears down the runway, stumbling and hopping, people cheer becuase they think it’s the next generation of heroin chic – half dressed, high and stumbling.
“Stop!” she demands. “We can not go on like this. Walking up and down, up and down these tiny runways. America is in danger.”
Crowd goes “Ooohh” Flash bulbs still go off. Techno music becomes a silent after thought behind the models.
“There is a grave hurricane coming to America in August of 2005, but listen, it’s not the winds that will get them – it’s the flood! The levees will break! Thousands will die!”
The DJ starts playing “When the levee breaks” by Zeppelin. The rest of the models start walking.
“I’m serious!” Katrina yells to the DJ booth but it’s as if she’s yelling to the sky, to God for help.
“I’m prediciting a New Orleans disaster!”
A handler comes from backstage, tackles her, places a fur coat around her and leads her off. Katrina is sedated and sent away to rest for a little while, the story of her prediction getting buried in the major press because people are more interested in The Surreal Life.