Build-a-Boyfriend Workshop

I rolled my head side to side along with the beat of the song as I laid sprawled out sideways across my bed, head hanging off the edge so my hair touched the floor. Today was a day off, no work and no class so I elected to spend the time smartly; lie around in my sweats as I stared at the wall. I was taking a break from the internet; TV shows were next on my oh-so-busy schedule. I should get some work done, some cleaning… some writing! But there was not an ounce of inspiration or energy in me to get up from the bed. With the lack of stimulation, I could feel my mind drifting into daydream-land…

The catchy chorus was just ending when I saw a familiar stick figure leaning by the door, looking at me. He waved his stick-figure hand briefly when he saw that he had my attention.
“Captain,” I said in acknowledgement, tugging the headphones out of my ears.
But the stick figure shook his head.
“My short-lived days with that title is behind me, I’m afraid.” he said. “Try again, this time with something different.”
“Hey…uh, Sticky.” I said.

I think we both cringed.

“See? You don’t like it either.” he said, a frown pulling his crescent mouth downward. “It makes me sound… gross.”

“Hmmm, so my friends were right.” I noted, not moving from my upside-down position on the bed. “You’re back.”
“Through the power of your very vivid imagination, I am back.” he agreed. “Though… since I’m in your head, I never really left.”
“Not gonna lie, this is still weird.” I said. “To be clear, this isn’t me losing my mind, right?”
The stick figure let out a snort.
“You can’t lose what you never had,” he told me.
To that, I had no argument.
“Touché, Stick man, touché.” I groaned out, in between yawns. I stretched my arms above my head, arching my back so my fingertips brushed the floor. Couple of cracks sounded from my spine and I sighed in relief before turning my attention back to my imaginary visitor.

“So…you’re here because you want a real boy’s name,” I guessed.

“That would be nice,” he said.

I glanced up at the wall, and saw the paint chipping off the corner.

“How about… Chip?”
“Like Chippendales? The male strippers?”

“Kevin.”
“Wasn’t that strange kid that held prolonged eye contacts in Freshman Orientation named Kevin?”

“…Beeerrrrnard.”
“You were hating that one already as you said it,” Sticky the Picky challenged.

I grunted, and rolled over so I could lie on my stomach.
“I guess I’m not feeling inspired.” I said. “Fine, what would be a good name for you?”

“I am a figment of your overactive imagination. What do I know about names?” he replied back.

Even my imaginary boyfriends were sassy…go figure.
“Dude, beggars can’t be choosers.” I sighed.

Mr. Sassy McSassafras hummed thoughtfully.
“Okay… then, how about we use one of those name generator things?” he suggested. “Like… what was the name of the street you grew up on?” he asked.

“Lincoln Avenue.” I replied.

“First Pet’s name?” he prompted.

“Flubberbutt.”

He raised his stick-figure eyebrow at me and gave me a sad look.
“That rock you picked up at the playground in elementary school?” he questioned.

“For a figment of my imagination, you sure object a lot.”

He sighed again, shaking his head.
“Fine! My tentative new name is Lincoln… Flubberbutt.” he caved. “Let’s just stick with Lincoln.”

“Alright, Mister Flubberbutt, you got what you were seeking.” I said, forcing a straight face. “Where does that leave us?”

The stick figure scowled so hard, I thought his face was going to fold in on itself.
“That is absolutely disgusting. It’s embarrassing.” he whined. “But what do you mean by that question?”

“Well, you got your new name…”

“Tentative new name.”

“Yea, sure.” I said dismissively. “So… what now? Are we done?”

Lincoln hummed thoughtfully, crossing his stick arms.
“What about you? Are you satisfied with just a name?” he asked in return. “You made me up for a reason.”

“Ah reason…” I echoed. “What reason?”

Lincoln nodded towards the sketchpad that was at the foot of my bed.
“You tell me,” he said.

I frowned, confused. But I reached over to the sketchpad and flipped it open to the bookmarked page.
A stick-figure in the Captain Morgan pose grinned up at me. At the top of the page, there was a sloppily scribbled note.



“Let me re-introduce myself!” my imaginary stick-figure man said cheerfully. “Hi! My name is Lincoln, and I am your imaginary boyfriend!”