Cover Model…Colbert?

Last night I was an audience member of The Colbert Report with buddy Maya Rodale. Both longtime fans of the show, we were thrilled to be seated in the VIP audience seats (row #2!!!) where we would be up close and (hopefully) personal with our hero.

Hope with Maya before the taping.
Far right, Hope with Maya before the taping.

We were, we did, and I’m happy to rapport…oops, I mean, report, that satirist Stephen Colbert did not disappoint. Fresh back from broascasting in Iraq and with the buzz cut to show for it, in all…truthiness, Colbert is even funnier in person than on TV–and that’s saying a lot.

We’d been schooled by staffers that Colbert would come out for an audience Q&A prior to the taping and that we should all be ready with a question.

With or without hair, Colbert looks g-o-o-d. Photo courtesy of www.colbertnation.com.
With or without hair, Colbert looks g-o-o-d. Photo courtesy of www.colbertnation.com.

And I was ready, oh how I was ready…

Remember back in 2007 when Harlequin put out the word that the company was searching for manly “real men” to pose for their covers? Colbert caught wind of the campaign and announced on the Colbert Report that he was waiting for Harlequin’s call. “All right, the ball is in your court, Harlequin.” To prove it, he posed with an intern for several spoof covers–as a lusty pirate, a dude ranch cowboy, and a corporate mogul.

Flash forward to June 16, 2009 otherwise known as Last Night. Before I knew it, Colbert was being introduced. He shot out from the black stage curtain. The buzz cut threw me at first but only for like thirty seconds. In person and behind-the-scenes, Colbert isn’t just witty and funny.

He’s also absolutely gracious and dare I say…hawt!?!

The shout-out for questions came. I tucked a copy of Bound to Please beneath my bum and shot my hand up in the air. Colbert turned my way. Our gazes met, stuck like glue–contractor glue, not the schlocky kind the rest of us buy. My heart kicked into a canter (if in Regency England) or fired full throttle (if in modern day Manhattan). Regardless of era, my sub-A cup bosom was heaving like a mother f…Well, I was having a hard time catching my breath. My mouth went dry, bone dry, whilst/while other parts of me went instantly damp, drenched you might say…

And by “parts” I mean my palms.

“Yes?” Colbert asked. He strode my way, his wingtips devouring the studio floor separating us.

He stood before me now, all virile satirist and questing eyes. It was, I knew, my moment of truthiness. I gingerly slid the copy of Bound to Please from its hiding place ‘neath my…nether parts and handed it over to him. Our fingertips brushed. Ah, sweet bliss…

I whetted my parched desert dry lips. “I’m um…um…” Dash it, who the devil was I!?! “Oh, right, I’m Hope Tarr, I write romance novels for Harlequin Enterprises and I want to know when you’re going to be the cover model for my next steamy Harlequin release.”

Bound to Please bound to be better with...Colbert!?!

Witty repartee ensued–from Colbert, that is. I’d spent myself on the introduction. Fortunately my chained cover hero, his tussled tartan, and yes, the ever so subtle shout line on the cover, “This guy’s a sure thing!” were all grist for the comedy mill. He even posited potential titles for his Harlequin cover debut.

It was heady stuff, titillating times, but there were other audience members with questions to consider and well, I knew I mustn’t be greedy. I let him walk away, not into the sunset but into the strobe lighting. It’s for the best, I’m sure and yet…

Goodnight, Nation.

Hope