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Missed Connections – Final

Here’s the last bit of missed connections I wrote. Didn’t quite finish them because I think I was sick of writing them. The theme is too consistent of people just being dumb.

Missed Person

3/27/2013 person4afternoons

Fried French cut potatoes and hot pizza wafting down the street from the bar combined with the smell of hops and yeast from the full beers sitting at the tables with the warm light of a late afternoon bathing everyone in warmth. Angelic laughter with the angry sounds of traffic behind us while we watched basketball highlights on the outdoor televisions

**

 

3/28/2013 m4w

We were at whole foods between oranges and kiwis looking for the last remaining Carambola and we both found it at the same time. You let me have it as I said it wasn’t for me, but my daughter. You had a yoga mat slung over your shoulder and a basket full of veggies and you reminded me of a modern day Greek Indian goddess. My daughter decided she hated the Carambola since it wasn’t the kind that her mom gets her in Sri Lanka, but maybe she would like it if you were around to give it to her for the other half of the year?

**

 

3/29/2013 m4m

I was walking home late at night from the bar and I was pretty drunk. I could barely see straight and noticed that I was being followed by these two guys. I realized that the streets were empty and I was in a remote part of Queens and then I started running because I was scared. I heard these guys start to run after me. I was scared out of my mind then out of nowhere you appeared and were running next to me. You told me to stop and let’s see what these guys wanted. They wanted our wallets and you decided to just kick their asses or something. I was so drunk I didn’t realize what happened until you took their wallets gave them to me and told me to run all the way home. I woke up the next morning with a bunch of cash and gift cards. Thank you for saving me.

Missed Connections – 3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s Part 3:

Missed Person

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3/20/2013 w4w

Dear Charlotte,

 

We went on one through meeting on Ok Cupid and it was the worst. You had picked out this museum to go to and half the exhibits were closed due to construction. When we got outside it started raining out of nowhere and neither of us had umbrellas or rain jackets so we got soaked running to a restaurant who said we either had to sit down and eat or leave and go back out into the rain.

 

The place was pretty expensive and all I could do was complain about how shitty the rain was and how I had just gotten my hair done and how bad the food was that we were eating. You didn’t seem to mind externally, but as you walked me to my subway stop you tried to kiss me at the end and I turned at the last minute so that all you got was my cheek. You just looked at me in disbelief after what I now realize was a pretty full day. You told me I was the worst person you had met recently and you had only been in the city for a few months.

 

I tried calling to apologize, but you don’t answer my calls or texts and you deleted your profile online. Please get back to me. I’m sorry I was so horrible.

 

Yasmine

**

 

3/21/2013 m4m

You were at this party that my friend had dragged me too and I felt like I was crashing the shit out of it, but they had kegs and I wasn’t about to turn away free beer. You were standing over in this corner of the party in a very tailored gray suit, bright green gingham shirt, and some cool black rimmed glasses. You literally looked like you had just walked off a GQ photo shoot.

 

We made eye contact a few times during the night and you even brushed by me and grabbed my ass, but my friend was throwing up in the bathroom after some guy made her do five shots of whiskey in a row. I had to go take care of her and when I came back out you were gone and the kegs were tapped.

 

Tell me where the party was and what I was wearing if you’re reading this and decide you want to get in touch.

**

 

3/22/2013 w4everyone

To all you people writing on here try to have some more self confidence in your life. Seriously. If you see someone across the room looking good or if you make eye contact a bunch with someone go over and say hello and smile and chat them up. Maybe have something witty in mind to say if it’s the first thing in the morning because we all love to laugh in the mornings. Don’t be afraid to ask for numbers or introduce yourself and be receptive to people opening up to you. Don’t stay locked up in your prison of ear buds and sunglasses.

**

 

3/23/2013 w4m

You were sitting in the Starbucks in Park Slope drinking hot chocolate out of a mug and reading a massive book of Calvin and Hobbs I think it was winter focused and you looked really cut just sitting there as a grown man reading comic books. I used to love Calvin and Hobbs as a child and I liked that you didn’t even care to try and pretend to be reading something else.

 

You seemed very happy and I was depressed that day because me and my fiancée broke up, but you made me smile. I don’t know if you read these things and I surely don’t usually post here, but I felt like I needed to share and maybe take a chance. I’ll go to that Starbucks more often or if you’re reading this maybe just email me back?

**

 

3/24/2013 m4dream

I’ve been with you a few times now and it’s always in the darkest hour of the night. I can’t tell that I’m dreaming, but everything feels too good to be true. I feel that I’m touching utopia even if in this dream I’m eating a burrito it’s the best burrito I’ve ever had or if I’m talking to a girl she’s the most beautiful person in the world.

 

And just as I’m really getting into something that feels complex or meaningful things start to fall apart and I wake up in a tangle of bedding and feathers from my down pillow. I wish you could just come back and stay with me longer my dream, but maybe I should try to make my life more like you and then I wouldn’t need you so much.

**

 

3/25/2013 m4w

I just found out a few days ago that I would have to leave for work as my company is moving out of New York and to Albany, NY. I think the place is a shit hole. I visited there once. It was terrible. The worst part is my girlfriend and I had already been doing a long distance relationship while I was here in New York and we were barely keeping that going so when I told her I think we both knew it was going to be over.  I hope we can still be friends, but I understand if it’s too hard. The worst part is that I wont be able to share so many experiences with her. That was the best part. The shared experience.

**

 

3/26/2013 person4mornings

Dappled sunlight filtered through spring cherry blossoms hanging above a secret courtyard in a forgotten corner of the city. The aromas of Costa Rica lingered throughout the first few cups of coffee around the table. The breakfast tasted of potential and promise of a full and exciting day to come with the enticing cacophonic sounds of a city waking up planting the idea that anything is possible.

**

Missed Connections – Part 2

 

 

 

 
Missed Person

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hey this is the second part or second week of my missed connections series.

3/13/2013 w4m

I was sitting on the edge of the roof of my apartment building looking out at the skyline of the city last night in the unseasonably warm late winter weather. A slight wind was coming off the East River and I could smell a hint of bagels baking in an oven far away. The smell of bagels and the image of the skyline would be a nice way to end it all I thought and then there you appeared hopping across from the roof of the apartment building over.

You were dressed in all black, wore a black beanie on your head, and had a messenger bag thrown across your shoulder. I think you saw me sitting there on the edge ten stories up and you came over and sat next to me. You introduced yourself as “Karl with a K” and asked me how my night was going. I told you everything that happened and you took it in passively without judgment—all of what I thought were my darkest secrets you seemed to just absorb.

You then showed me what was in your bag. A small painting that once belonged to a young woman named Miriam Weinstein who was a survivor of the war and now old and on her deathbed. You had been commissioned to bring it to her before she died. I don’t remember much, but I woke up at dawn the next day near the center of the roof with your black coat draped over me and your hat on my head.

I read about a stolen painting a few weeks later and I thought of you. Thank You.

**

3/14/2013 m4w

I was sittin’ this coffee shop down the street from my place reading the internets instead of working from home like I told my boss I was gonna do when you walked through those doors. Black pumps with the peep toes. Charcoal grey pencil skirt. White oxford with a olive green jacket thrown over your shoulders.

I heard you order a latte from the finely dressed barista and a ham sandwich and a few minutes later you sat down at my table. I would awkwardly glance up at you from my computer screen because you were easily the hottest girl I had seen that day and I was wearing draw string sweats, a hoodie, and a green beanie. You slurped your coffee and nibbled at the ham sandwich for a few minutes while checking your naked iPhone and I thought you seemed pretty cool. You reminded me of someone who wanted to look like a model, act like a model, but probably wasn’t a model so I worked up the nerve and started talking to you.

You sign languaged me back, but I know you could talk. That’s just rude.

I started taking classes in sign. Email me back girl.

**

3/15/2013 m4w

I don’t really do this and it was by suggestion from a friend, but we danced last week at Mehanata to the urban gypsy music for maybe twenty minutes. You were tall, willowy, and absolutely stunning. I was in so much shock that I was dancing with you that I forgot to get your phone number.

You kissed me on the cheek and told me your name was Irina. Email me back my name and what I was wearing so I can take you to dinner.

**

3/16/2013  m4w

We sat together on the bus from NY to DC and you were wearing a really comfortable looking hoodie. There were no empty seats around and you were easily the cutest of all the people to sit with so I decided to sit down. I was pretty awkward and ate a really messy buffalo chicken sandwich to which you kept glancing at and I would have offered you some if it wasn’t so messy.

We talked to each other a bit when it came time to choose a movie, but once it started you fell asleep. I woke you up when we got to DC though and you smiled at me. Email me back with what I was wearing if you want to get together sometime.

**

3/17/2013 w4m

I don’t normally write on craigslist let alone the missed connections page, but I thought I felt something the other day when we were pretty much jammed together on the L train going into the city. You had a cup of coffee that never seemed to spill or leak that you could sip from and I was completely envious. I asked you where it was from and you said it was actually a reusable cup made of ceramic that you had painted and glazed to look like a cup from a bodega.

You asked what happened to my face and I told you I had gotten into a fight with my friend when I pulled him away from trying to start a fight with a bouncer the weekend before to which you laughed and told me that with friends like those who needs enemies? Anyway if you are reading this email me back with what my name was, where I worked, or what neighborhood I lived in.

**

3/18/2013 w4w

This has got to stop. I see you all over the city and Brooklyn. It’s like you are there, but never seem to notice me. This is insane. The next time I see you I’m going to punch you in the face and tell you to stop stalking me. You’re always there out of the corner of my eye doing the exact same thing I am doing and dressed in similar clothes to me, but they look better on you.

You’re beautiful and you mock me every time I see you. Please stop following me and please stop hitting on the guys I talk to and stealing them away. Not even once have you acknowledged that I exist or even glanced in my direction. This is my last resort and last warning. Leave. Me. Alone.

**

3/19/2013 w4m

We were sitting in a Starbucks sharing this big communal table yesterday. You were on your Macbook Pro doing what looked like biology of some sort and occasionally checking your Ok Cupid profile. The work looked kind of interesting and we made eye contact a few times when you looked over at me. You seemed hesitant to keep the contact though and broke away, but I caught you glancing back at me and I would occasionally glance back your way as well.

You were wearing a light blue dress shirt and black wool pants with some very nice loafers. You were also pretty cute and I hope you think that same so email me back with some sort of description of what I looked like and what Starbucks we were occupying at the time.

**

Missed Connections

Missed Person

So I did some writing exercises in writing what I thought were creative missed connections. I often read craigslist missed connections and the writing is a bit lack luster and I thought if everyone put in a bunch of effort into writing beautiful missed connections the world might be a bit of a better place.

I guess I’ll post them in a series of weeks. I wanted to do this for a whole year, but the sheer repetitive nature started to drag me down and I came to the conclusion that people should just approach others if they feel something special happening.

Anyway here’s the first week if anyone still reads this hope you enjoy.

 

3/6/13 w4m – Manhattan

I was riding the R train to work yesterday and I had my white ear buds in listening to The Black Keys. You were sitting across the train from me wearing brown penny loafers, no socks, dark chinos, and a white oxford shirt. You looked to be in shape and I was just sort of staring off into space in your general direction.

The lights went out in the train for a few seconds and when they came back on you had made a ridiculous looking face at me, which took me awhile to notice, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

You smiled and got off at 23rd Street. You made my day and I can’t stop thinking about you. Please email me back with a picture so I can know it’s you.

**

 

3/7/13 m4w – Manhattan

I was the tall skinny blonde guy with the suit that didn’t fit quite as well as it should have and you pointed this out to me. You were the short auburn haired girl with the tattoos and pink tutu and told me that your profession was being a magician. We were in a bar somewhere in the LES and I thought you were beautiful.

I asked you to do a magic trick and stood up on a stool kissed me and walked away and I never saw you again. When I tried to buy a round for my friends I realized my wallet was gone and I guess you had made it disappear. You would be the best magician ever if you made it reappear in the next few days in my apartment since you know where I live, but I’d rather just get to talk to you again.

**

 

3/8/13 m4m – Brooklyn

I was running around Park Drive in Prospect park and you were on a bike wearing one of those tight biking one pieces, clip in shoes, and a pink helmet. You looked a bit like a professional biker and pretty cute to boot so I was the one who asked you to race to the top of the hill. You looked over at me, smiled, and asked if I wanted a head start.

I said give me ten seconds and took off as hard as I could going up that hill. After a little bit you pulled up next to me and said it was nice meeting and that your name was Emilio. You then tore off and I never saw you again even at our debatable finish line. Hopefully you are reading this and if not then maybe I’ll see you in the park sometime.

**

 

3/9/13 m4w

Last night at the Owl Farm I met you somewhere near the front of the bar. We talked about the different yeasts used in beer and how you were growing different strains of wild yeast and selling them to American beer brewers. You were very passionate that the American brewing system was not very sophisticated in the yeasts that they used and instead relied on the grains and hops. You were really cool and cute.

I was the guy in the dark grey flannel shirt and jeans with short hair. You were the tall German girl that knew a lot about beer. If you’re interested and potentially reading this you should let me educate you on wine.

**

 

3/10/13 w4w

I was in Park Slope eating at Thistledown Tavern at the bar by myself and you were also eating next to me at the bar. I was drinking a Tecate and you were drinking a glass of white wine. I made some comment about how good your Mac and Cheese looked and you offered me a bite of it—so good.

Anyway we got to talking and you mentioned that you were a food writer for the New York Times and I told you that I was a lawyer. I’m actually a single lawyer who just opened her own restaurant and I would love a review from the New York Times. The way you talked about food was poetic. Please come by The Gilted Goose anytime and have a meal on the house.

**

 

3/11/13  m4soup

I was drunk again or maybe it had been always. I stumbled into this little noodle shop that had maybe ten seats. I was asked to sit down at the bar and a menu was placed in front of me along with some hot green tea. The tea was soothing and helped clear the fog from my mind long enough to realize that I was in a ramen-ya. I picked the spicy miso ramen with mushrooms, bamboo shoots, and crispy pork belly.

I could see the chef in the kitchen throwing noodles into big deep bowls and pulling out ladles of steaming stock and pouring them into the bowls. As I finished my tea soup appeared before me and the smells were more intoxicating than a fifteen year single malt. I could smell the promise of hot chili mixed with the silky smooth of rendered pork fat. The broth was a red murky color that seemed to become thicker after each spoonful I consumed. I felt like I was changing while I ate each spicy rich spoonful of broth and noodles. Each chewy bamboo shoot paired with a spicy crispy fat of the pork altered something inside of me. I remember leaving thirty dollars on the bar and walking out when it was finished.

I have been sober for a year to this day and I have not been able to find this ramen-ya again. If I imagine hard enough I can still taste the soup. Please, if you know of this place email me so I can thank the chef for saving my life with a bowl of soup.

**

 

3/12/13 w4job

We flirted once or twice by email–actually it was twice–but who is counting? It was mostly a one sided interaction in that I sent you a lot of emails with very little return. I tired of putting myself out there, but for a minute there we flirted pretty hard a few weeks ago. I got an email back and was asked to come in for an interview. I prepped hard with getting my suit dry cleaned, teeth cleaned, hair blow dried (I can’t afford a haircut right now), and printing out copies of my resume on a cotton-linen blend.

The interview went well I thought and we seemed to connect on a lot of different levels. There was even a little salary flashing that I wasn’t ready for, but the thrill of others finding out made me feel all tingly inside. Anyway, it’s been a few weeks and I’m starting to get antsy. Can you just give me a yes or no and at least let a girl know if she’s in or not? This waiting in limbo at times feels worse than just even having a prospect. Please don’t stand me up job. Please email me back.

Just read: Fresh Off the Boat

By Eddie Huang

This book for sure resonated with me and I appreciated how real he kept things from the use of verbal slang in how people talk to exposing some of the darker parts of himself.

I also like that it is only him up to his current point in life. Like who the fuck writes about the first 29 years of your life or whatever? The book is like a blueprint of a cool building that is kind of fucked up that I would never want to design, but definitely is inspiring in its own right. He isn’t afraid to be him, which in our modern world is maybe the hardest thing an individual can do.

Writing the Reworked Draft

 

 

 

dope desk

 

So I rewrote that initial draft. I was unsatisfied with how the characters sounded dialog wise. I felt I had envisioned a table and set it with all the necessary things, but the food was terrible. The food wasn’t even bland it was just straight terrible.

What makes a character able to be empathized with immediately?

What else makes a character instantly likable?

What can I convey in the writing to make things more extreme vs what is too extreme? Do actions or words convey this better?

Fade In

 

A young, but not too young man probably somewhere in his late twenties to early thirties–the sort of age where men have a crisis of conscious as to if they are doing the right things with their lives–wakes up between two naked women that are clearly in the early twenties maybe even too young to drink. The man’s eyes flutter open slowly as if he has all the time in the world there is no rush and that he is savoring every moment especially waking up between two beautiful naked women.

 

He looks at his watch and his eyes widen.

 

Vic

Oh. Fuck.

 

He hops out of bed and starts trying to find all of his clothes scattered throughout the hotel room. He acts sort of cobbled because he’s hung over. Eventually he has on a wrinkled gray oxford shirt and a black wool suit that is impeccably tailored to his youthful and fit body. The final touch are a pair of custom made brogues that he wears without socks that he can’t find. Vic exits the room with his phone to his ear.

 

Vic

Frank, please tell me you tracked my phone and you’re outside of wherever the fuck I am.

 

Vic hurredly starts running down a flight of stairs.

 

Frank

I did track your phone and I’m outside of the Rivington Hotel with a cup of coffee, four aspirin, and an everything with cream cheese in the backseat for you.

 

Vic

You think we can make it on time?

 

Frank The clients flight was delayed last night so we’ve got maybe an hour to get to the airport.

 

Vic exits the small building in the Lower East side and scans the street for his driver’s car. He finally spots it and runs over to the car in the early afternoon light. He opens the door and slides in and the car pulls away from the curb as the door closes.

 

Frank

Watch out for the coffee it might still be kind of hot.

 

He pops the aspiring and takes a sip of the coffee. Makes a face.

 

Vic

Frank, it’s cold as shit. How long have you been sitting out here?

 

Frank

I don’t know I popped in an Alan Watts CD and I must have lost track of time.

 

Vic shakes his head and checks his watch again.

 

Vic

You think we can make it?

 

Frank

We’ll see.

 

Cut to JFK.

 

Bill Murray picks up his bag from the baggage claim and starts walking out towards the exit not seeing any driver looking fellow with his name on a white card. He’s dressed in a Knicks Jersey that’s a few sizes too big and super faded loose cut jeans with white tennis shoes. Just as he exits the airport to the curb a black Audi S8 pulls up in front of him and the truck of the car opens and the back door opens as well. Frank gets out and greets Bill Murray with the tip of his Met’s cap and picks up his bag for him. Bill Murray climbs into the car.

 

Bill

You guys have impeccable timing.

 

Vic

Mr. Murray, so good to meet you. I have a list of hotels in mind for you depending on what type of trip you would like to have this time.

 

Bill

Oh, please call me Bill. I was thinking something youthful and fun like the Marriot or something. I’m shooting a new movie in a few months and I’m supposed to play a mentor type role to a young comedy writer.

 

Vic

Well, have you ever mentored anyone before?

 

Bill

Well I once gave advice to a suicidal guy in a bathroom in the mid nineties and he never did kill himself. We actually ended up getting kicked out of a bar later. I’m not sure what happened after that.

 

Pause

 

Bill

So I would say I’m a journeyman mentor in terms of skill level.

 

Vic

You’re much to harsh. I would say your prolific body of work paints a different picture.

 

Bill

You’re too kind… What your name again?

 

Vic

Oh, it’s Victor. Everyone calls me Vic.

 

Bill

Sure thing Victor. You know Victor sounds much more imposing sort of like a Czar or something. Very harsh those V sounds have.

 

Pause while Vic plays with his phone for a bit. Scenery passes by.

 

Bill

So how does this work?

 

Vic

I essentially fix or facilitate things to happen. I’m the grease between the wheels and I get square pegs to fit in round holes and round pegs to fit in triangular holes. I’ll get you into where you need to go and meet the right people in order to meet your goals. So far as I understand it you want to stay someplace hip and young full of energy and you need to know about mentoring people especially writers.

 

Bill

No, I meant your phone. I was thinking about getting one of those. You know I once fired my PR person and Agent and had a telephone answering machine instead?

 

Vic

No I did—

 

Bill

You know I was thinking it might help if that young writer person would happen to be like a Tina Fey before she becomes Tina Fey so that when she becomes successful due to her talent and hard work she’ll remember how good of a mentor I was and cast me in her breakout comedy movie.

 

Vic

I think I have some ideas in mind. Let’s get you checked in first shall we?

 

Bill

Lead the way fixer. Do you pay for my hotel or do I pay for—

 

Vic

You pay. It’s your hotel room.

 

Bill

What’s your job title again? I’m going to write a note to myself in case time travel ever becomes invented so I can go back in time to tell myself to become whatever it is you are.

 

Vic

People generally refer to me as The Fixer. Here you want to email it to yourself on my phone?

 

Bill

Email? What’s that?

 

Bill takes the phone and starts typing away on the screen.

 

Cut to the car pulling up to the hotel.

 

The Audi pulls up to the main entrance and the truck pops open. The outside of the hotel is understated and unassuming in the gloom of dusk, but the way the doorman has the bag on the curb before the Frank can get out. Vic and Bill get out of the car and walk inside to check in.

 

Marble on marble everywhere. A group of young women and young men walk past laughing looking ridiculously stylish just laughing or joking. No actual dialog is heard as they go past.

 

Bill

Wow, you did a good job picking this place out. Where am I?

 

Vic

The place doesn’t actually have a name as of yet it’s just called 158 Rivington.

 

Bill

They must have forgotten to name it. I once got this dog and I forgot to name him I just called him “hey dog” and that’s what he responded to

 

A young slim almost too skinny young man walks out from behind the Marble reception desk. He’s dressed in Thom Brown suit with super short cropped legs.

 

Desk Assistant

Mr. Murray! We’ve got an excellent room with a view for you on the top floor.

 

Bill

Oh great. Thank you so much.

 

Bill (whispers to Vic)

Has anyone told this guy his pants are too short? This isn’t Capri you know.

 

Vic

I’ll tell him later. What time would you like to get dinner?

 

They follow the receptionist guy through the hotel. The camera peers into rooms as they walk by and it’s a combination of high end Fashion Commercials and MTV’s Spring Break taking place inside.

 

Bill

How about after I drop my bag off.

 

Vic

You don’t have your bag with you

 

The hotel guy swipes his card and pushes a button. They ride up the elevator.

 

Bill

Well then as soon as I know which one is mine then.

 

The hotel door opens to a room the room is the whole top floor with a piano, full bar, kitchen, TV, Eames chairs, etc. Swank. The assistant hands Bill Murray a swipe key.

 

Desk Assistant

So this is the room. We unpack your bag for you if you want.

 

Bill

Sure. Sounds lovely. I usually don’t unpack my bag I thought the dressers in hotels were kind of silly, but if someone does it all for you then why not right?

 

Vic tips the assistant a few hundred and whispers something in his ear. The assistant walks back onto the

 

Bill

So, what do you think—

 

Vic

Come with me I’ve got dinner already lined up.

 

Cut to Subterfuge. The dopest sandwich joint ever and it might also be a club at night time. Bill and Vic walk past a subway, quiznos, and a deli on the way there. There is a line outside going down the block and a bouncer at the door. Vic and Bill come up to the doorman.

 

Vic

Hey Ernie. How’s your little cousin doing these days?

 

Ernie

Oh, He’s doing much better. Thanks for getting him in to see that specialist friend of yours it’s made a world of difference.

 

Vic

Just glad I could help buddy. Let me know if you need anything else

 

Ernie

Of course.

 

Bill and Vic walk in while people complain about getting cut to Ernie.

 

The interior is modest in a modern utilitarian way in that everything has clean lines and there are no superfluous things. Every table is completely packed except for two stools at the bar with a reserved sign sitting there.

 

Vic and Bill casually take a seat at the bar.

 

The bartender turns around and it’s another average beautiful woman. Who also happens to know Vic.

 

Bartender

Hey sweetie I heard you were coming through tonight. What can I get for you?

 

Vic

Um, I’ll take a grilled cheese and an assortment of pickles and olives. Oh and a beer.

 

Bill

Is there a menu I can order from?

 

Bartender

There is no menu just order whatever you want and we’ll make it for you. Within reason of course. We don’t have any shark or anything back there.

 

Bill makes another quizzical face

 

Bill

Shark sandwiches? I’ll take a bacon sandwich with chips, a pickle, and a glass of white wine.

 

Bartender Sure thing boys.

 

The girl next to Bill Murray turns in her stool and looks at him from the corner of her eye and once she’s confirmed that it is indeed him she decides to speak.

 

NYU Girl

Excuse me. Are you Bill Murray?

 

Bill

I think so

 

The girl puts a hand to her chest and doubles over a little bit. Or acts however shocked NYU girls act?

 

Bill

Are you ok? Did I scare you? Sometimes I have that effect on people.

 

NYU Girl

Yes

 

Bill

I’m sorry I scared you.

 

NYU Girl

No, no—

 

Bill

There’s no need to refuse my apology

 

She takes a minute to recover takes a sip of her red wine and seems to gather some courage

 

NYU Girl No. It’s not that. I’m just a huge fan and I love your work.

 

Bill

Even the latest stuff?

 

NYU Girl

Are you kidding me? That is the worst shit I’ve ever seen you do—well except for Zombieland. I cannot believe you have stooped to this level.

 

Bill pulls a perplexed face. It’s like he’s entered the twilight zone

 

NYU Girl

Seriously it’s bad. I know you know its bad. Lost in Translation you essentially played a watered down version of yourself that was less funny. I mean I know it was a drama, but come on.

 

Bill

I know its bad. I mean I have bills to pay too. Maybe I didn’t realize it was this bad until a random girl in a sandwich shop might say it’s bad.

 

NYU Girl

Oh I’m not Random. Vic told me to meet him here around now and that he would have someone I would like to meet.

 

She leans over so she can see Vic

 

NYU Girl

Hi Vic.

 

Vic

Hey Chelsea. Good to see you again. You think we’re even now?

 

NYU Girl

Potentially, we’ll see how this goes—

 

She turns back to Bill Murray and they converse while Bill Murray discreetly puts a hand behind his back for a subtle high five with Vic.

 

We see Vic alone drinking his beer on the stool looking at his phone and around the restaurant. NYU Girl and Bill Murray are just talking animatedly and seem to be having a great time. When the food comes out Vic’s is in a box for which he throws a twenty on the bar, pats Murray on the shoulder and walks out. He shakes hands with Ernie and then gets into the car waiting outside.

 

Cut to Frank driving Vic through the city with Vic looking at this phone. Messages pop up every few seconds of people inviting him out or asking him if they can get them into a club or a bar.

 

Vic

Frank, we got anything tomorrow morning?

 

Frank

Nope. The schedule starts around 4pm.

 

Vic

Fantastic. Hey, let me out up here I wanna walk for a bit before I go home.

 

Frank

Whatever you want boss.

 

He turns his phone off and gets out once the car stops.

 

Vic

I’ll see you tomorrow Frank.

 

Frank

Goodnight kid. Try and get some sleep. You look like shit

 

Vic

Fuck you too Frank.

 

Frank drives off laughing

 

The camera stays behind Frank as people walk past him all on their way to something that looks more entertaining in the early evening gloom. The lights are bright and snippets of popular songs of the day drift out of passing cars. Vic walks past the Flatiron and all of a sudden stops when someone yells his name.

 

Maria

Victor!

 

Vic turns around to see a familiar looking girl from his past that stops him from moving as she runs up to him and envelops him in a gigantic hug. She pulls back and gives him a look over and whistles low.

 

Vic

Hello to you too Maria. What are you doing all the way up here in New York?

 

Maria

I just moved here for a job like a few months ago.

 

Vic

Oh, congratulations.

 

Maria

You look so good Vic. What have you been up to these days?

 

Vic

I work out and I’m mostly a vegetarian.

 

Maria

No, I mean—

 

Vic

I know what you meant.

Pause

 

I guess you can say I put people together and facilitate each party finding exactly what he or she wants in the other.

 

Maria

So you’re a match maker?

 

Vic

That’s a very crude way to put it, but yes I guess if that’s how you want to understand it then sure.

 

Maria

So I tried calling you when I moved up here to catch up, but your phone number changed I guess or something.

 

Vic pulls out a card from his jacket. Has his name and number on it, but nothing else.

 

Vic

Here, my card if you ever need it.

 

Maria’s phone rings.

Maria

Oh, sorry. I’m meeting some friends at this club called Risk. You’re more than welcome to come with—

 

Vic

Nah, I’m fine. I’ve had a long day. Tell the doorman Bernard that I said hello though when you go in.

 

Maria eyes him awkwardly and taps his card against her phone.

 

Maria

Ok, well. I’ll see you around I guess.

 

Vic

Yeah, maybe. Have fun.

 

Vic turns around and walks away without saying goodbye.

 

We follow Vic as he makes his way through the swanky lobby of his building and he slaps high five with the doorman. His suit is wrinkled ever so slightly and he sags against the wall a little as the elevator carries him to his apartment.

 

He walks down a long hall to the end and opens his door to a decent sized apartment with nice modern looking furniture. Vic grabs a beer out of the fridge and sits down at the dinner table with his roommate there sitting on his MacBook Pro. His roommate looks like a less well dressed and dorkier younger brother of Vic.

 

Vic

Hey dude what’s going on?

 

Emory

Hey there Vic. I’m just reading up on some papers. You didn’t come in last night right? Another epic night on the town followed by a day of work?

 

Vic

Yeah stuff got pretty wild last night you should have come out. I was hanging out with Ahmed—Saudi Prince—and his harem. He essentially foisted these two girls at me and told me to leave his VIP area immediately and take these girls up to their room to make sure they got to bed safely. The bar was in the hotel and the girls were not in his harem.

 

Emory

Whoa, do princes pay bricks of gold or something?

 

Vic

Princes pay in bank transfers just like everyone else. Hefty amounts via international bank accounts. So while I was entertaining middle eastern royalty you were doing what?

 

Emory

I stayed home and played Starcraft for awhile and then Diana and I went out and got some pizza and played scrabble all night on my iPad.

 

Vic gives him a glance like “are you fucking kidding me?” But he knows its all probably true. Emory was maybe the exact opposite of Vic. Probably why he liked having Emory stick around as opposed to kick him out. It’s not like he needed the rent money.

 

Vic

Sounds like a good way to spend a night with your girl.

 

Emory

Only if you win at least one game of scrabble. Defeat sucks man, but it does make victory that much sweater once you do get it.

 

Vic

Guess who I saw on my way home tonight.

 

Emory Captain Kirk

 

Vic

Nope. Maria.

 

Emory

Oh what. No way. What’s she doing in New York?

 

Vic

Some job. What else.

 

Emory

Wow. That must have been awkward. She dumps you for not being professionally driven enough so you decide to leave your Podunk town of Des Moins and move to the big city.

 

Vic

You have no idea how awkward it was I just wanted to flaunt everything I have in her face, but I held back. It seemed unbecoming. I gave her my card so maybe she will call me.

 

Emory

You did what! This girl broke your heart in high school man. You were suicidal for a little bit there.

 

Vic

Yeah, you would probably know best out of anyone. Anyway, I’m beat as fuck. I’m gonna go to sleep.

 

Emory

At ten o’clock?

 

Vic

I wish it was eight.

 

Emory

Alright. See you tomorrow dude.

 

Vic slinks off to his room and starts taking off his clothes until he’s just in his boxers and just falls into his bed. Asleep before he hits the mattress

 

Camera shots of Vic’s empty apartment. Everything is the way it was when we saw Vic and Emory conversing, but Emory is gone and nowhere to be seen in the two bedroom. The second bedroom is sparse and quite clean with few personal touches. Someone could live there or someone might not.

 

Fade Out


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