Knowing that Clay is in LA preparing for the upcoming Independent tour with that Clarkson gal, Alyssa and I decided to fly down there. Actually, it was Alyssa's idea. Bless her soul.

We (meaning I) were hell-bent on getting an opportunity to meet The Clay. Oh yeah, and what's her name too... Telly, is it? I think so.

I came up with the brilliant plan for us to pose as personal assistants to Clay's personal assistant. Cause you know they all have those. Alyssa insisted on wearing a phony head set. I told her assistants don't wear those, but she said she saw it in a movie. I told her to take it off. She wore it anyway. I put on a beret, stuck a pen in my hand, 2 in my pocket, and 1 behind my ear for that extra studious look.

Both the headset and the pens proved to be a nuisance at the airport. Security wouldn't let us through until we relinquished our 'weapons'. One of the guards slightly resembled the big black guy from 'A Night At The Roxbury'. I was so frightened that I handed over my pens without a fight. I also handed over my shoes and my belt buckle, so as not to have any other altercations. One of the other guards snatched the headset off of Alyssa's head. She snatched it back and yelled "We have very important work to do!" She grabbed my arm and yanked me onto the plane. She spent the entire flight telling everyone we were on a mission. I spent the entire flight telling everyone the bouncer from 'A Night At The Roxbury' stole my shoes.

When we arrived in LA a few hours later, I insisted we find me some shoes. She insisted we "get to work and get this 'meet Clay business' over with". I held my ground. I would not meet Clay in filthy stocking feet. Plus, if I was to pass as an assistant, I would need pens and a clipboard.

After buying my necessities, we hurried to the arena where afternoon rehearsals were underway. We attempted to sneak into the back door, but a big black security guard was guarding it like his life depended on it. He looked oddly a lot like the guy at the airport who confiscated my pens. He glared at me. I tucked my pens deep in my pocket and stepped back to let Alyssa do the talking.

"Hi, my name is Aly... uh, I mean Palyssa. Me and my bosom buddy here are personal assistants to Clay's personal assistant."

"Oh really? What's his personal assistant's name?" "I don't see how this information is necessary." "Well, if you don't know the personal assistants name, then you're obviously not her assistants."

"I know her name."

"What is it?" He asked.

"I don't have time for this! Destinies are at stake!"

Bless her heart. But he still refused us entry. He glowered at me and I ducked further behind Alyssa.

"You're not coming in."

"Let us in! Clay is waiting!" Alyssa shouted.

"Not for you he's not!"

"Clay Aiken is a very important man! Now out of my way!"

We shoved past him and ran into the building. I don't know if he followed us or not. We were running too fast down a corridor in search of a pink dressing room. On the way, Alyssa stopped to mess around with a coffee pot.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

She held up a thermos of coffee and smiled proudly. "It's a special treat!"

When we finally found the dressing room, it was like entering heaven. The way it smelled... must be what God's dressing room smells like.

Alyssa played around at the desk with that thermos of coffee. I was too busy shoving a pair of Clay's shoes into my pocket to pay attention to what she was doing. I didn't learn until we were being escorted out a few minutes later that she had labeled the thermos of coffee "drink after sound check" and had left it for Clay to drink cause "that's what assistants do".

"Clay's allergic to coffee!" I yelled. I jumped on top of her and pummeled her with my clipboard.

Clay's big black security guard tossed us over his shoulder and hurried us towards the exit. As we were tossed out the door, someone came down the hallway screaming "Clay's having gastric spasms!!"

We high tailed it out of there. She probably left her DNA all over that cup.