Splendid Isolation
The idea was objectively terrible and that was its main attraction for Christy.
Every plan she’d come up with over the past year from the utterly mundane to the seemingly inspired had all amounted to nothing.
This one though, a gathering out in the middle of the woods, part spiritual retreat, part rave
séance, and part booze-fueled bacchanalia, was the kind of ridiculous hippy bullshit that
would’ve barely gotten traction in the sixties, much less now, which is what made it perfect.
On paper it was a clusterfuck destined to implode on impact, but with the right location, the
right crowd, and the right spin, it could work, or at least be the kind of spectacle that might lead to other opportunities.
Before all that though, she needed the single idea that was gonna sell this thing. She sat in a booth at the diner she ate lunch at nearly every day, sipping iced tea and trying to snag a server’s attention so she could ask whether they had any peach pie left, when it came to her.
Bonfire of the Vanities — Let your midlife crisis go up in smoke while you recapture your misspent youth during a lost weekend you won’t want to tell the kids about.