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It is a cold afternoon and my breath is visible in the air as i stroll into the starbucks. I am depressed becuase it is the day Conor Oberst is performing a concert but the tickets have been sold out for months. I am waiting in line when suddenly I hear a familiar voice that sounds like a million angels. I turn my head and see what I was half heartedly expecting. It is Conor (Oberst), talking with what looks like a freind. I gasp and stiffen as i turn my head forward. What is one to do in aa situation given by God; do I ask for his autograph and risk looking like a crazed fan or do I charm him into conversatrion? I take another glance in his direction and notice something is wrong. For Conor has spots over his face and his is scratching alot at his arms. A milion thoughts go through my head. Maybe this concert will be postponed due to conors ailment and maybe i could get tickets? I nonchallantly walk over to sit in a chair nearby the rockstar. I pretend to read my book as i eavesdrop on their conversation. "This is a disaster!" says Conor. "It sure is; what if you cant play tonight! You have to stop scratching if you want to get better!" says Conor's friend. "I would do ANYTHING to stop scratching.." says the ebony-haird angel. "however it is too hard and my will power is too low. I would even give a pair of front row tickets to tonight's show IF ONE WOULD PRESENT A SOLUTION." It is too much for me to bare, because i have a genius solution sitting right in my backpack. I stand up and interrupt them by saying "I believe I have a Solution.." The two boys look up in surprise. "I am open to any suggestions" says the boy of my dreams. "Surely, my solution would both stop you from scratching and provide rest for you before your performance tonight. ANd i propose that i wrap you in cling film." I offer. Conor strokes his chin in deep concentration and slowly a smile spreads across his face. "That is just genius. Marvalous. Highly irregular but more than adequate." I am shivering at the thought of wrapping him in cling film. Conor stands up with his arms pressed at his side, ready for the wrapping to begin. "I;m sorry, but I will need privacy." I say. "Fair enough." We both walk into the women's bathroom while Conor's friend stands outside to make sure we are undisturbed. My mouth is like a desert as i unzip my backback. But as i kneel down at Conor's feet with cling film in hand, i salivate and my hands are trembling. "please be gentle " Conor says with a wink. "I will!" i reply. Slowly i begin at his ankles. I wrap slowly and steadily, with the precision and passion of an insatiable lover. When i reach his knees my hands feel like jell-o, but the job is undoubtedly professional. I am standing up straight by the time i wrap the last bit of cling film around his shoulders. He appears to be a beautiful butterfly within a magical silver cocoon. "You are completely wrapped in cling film." i say. "Perfect. I cannot scratch." he says. "I am beyond being indebted to you." "Compencation can be arranged... as i believe you mentioned front row tickets?" I stated. "ah yes, " he says, "You may join me backstage for a party before the show, but my limo is waiting. We must go now." He says breathlessly. "It would be my honor." i answer with a smile.