Caitlin, Patrick and I were walking down the hall. We were the only people on that floor – EXCEPT for a certain big-wig, an actor who is famous, and plays the lead in whatever movie he is in. He has an office on that floor, so we could hear him playing electric guitar through the door, talking to himself, singing – and occasionally we could hear him playing basketball with the little hoop he has on the door. It’s his creative process. But there are times when it feels like we are living in a college dorm all over again. Occasionally, big-wig makes an appearance, and he’s very nice, silly, laidback – but for the most part, he is holed up in his office, doing whatever he needs to do to write his latest script, or whatever it is he is doing in there.<\/p>\n
Yesterday the three of us were walking down the hall. And I cannot explain WHY I behaved the way I did – but it has to do with a running joke we all have: I squatted over, and teetered along on crippled legs, jutting my arms out akimbo – with odd slashing gestures – and I began to recite the multiplication table in a strong ridiculous Cockney accent. The reason WHY we find all of this funny, and it’s become a “bit” is far too involved to recount. Basically you need to imagine the Artful Dodger doing his multiplication tables, in order to count up the money he has stolen that day. The accent needs to be huge, overblown, and not at all realistic.<\/p>\n
“Two TOIMES TWO equals FOW-AH. FOW-ah TOIMES FOW-AH equa-ows sixteen. Fagan knows Oi brough’ in FIFteen so ‘dat meens FOIVE TOIMES FOIVE equa-ows twentee-FOIVE …” etc. Your math doesn’t need to make sense – it’s all about the accent, the behavior.<\/p>\n
We howl with laughter about this. So Caitlin, Patrick and I were walking down the hall – and I was in the process of doing that – and I was totally into it – doing it 100% – and Caitlin and Patrick were HOWLING – and suddenly, from out of the bathroom to our left, comes big-wig – I didn’t even see him, so involved was I in my Artful Dodger arithmetic caculations – and big-wig silently and respectfully walked the other way back to his office, presumably to pick up his electric guitar again. Caitlin and Patrick were DYING – because all big-wig knew is that the woman who shares his floor, who has the office next to his – had suddenly, inexplicably, become a staggering Cockney dwarf, robotically babbling out the multiplication tables as she galumphs down the empty hallway. Like: uhm … what the hell is going on there? Nope. I won’t ask. I will just very quietly walk the other way<\/i>.<\/p>\n
20 minutes later, Caitlin and I get in the elevator. And amazingly, Big Wig #2 joined us. I hadn’t even known he was on that floor at that time -he’s kind of like Willy Wonka. You almost never see him. Any “sightings” of Big Wig #2 are reported to one another, because it’s such a rarity. Big Wig #2 is as big as they come. Major famous. Like, millionaire famous, mogul famous. So he and another guy get into the elevator with us. We ride down in silence. I’m kind of “over” the seeing-celebs thing at this point – but it still gave me a start, because he is almost like a ghost on that floor … does he even exist? Nobody spoke as we rode down. The elevator doors opened. Big Wig #2 and his good-looking friend (who probably was famous as well, but I didn’t get a good look at him) hung back to let the ladies off the elevator first. Very nice. Caitlin and I moved past and as we did so – Big Wig #2 started up the conversation that obviously had halted when they were in a public elevator (you have to be very very careful what you talk about … because you never know who will be listening). And God, i SO wanted to hang back and eavesdrop … because what he said was, “My issue with the strike is ….”<\/p>\n
DAMMIT. What was the rest of his sentence??<\/p>\n
I have friends on strike. I have friends who work for Big Wig #2. I so wanted to hear the end of that sentence! But alas, it was not meant to be.<\/p>\n
At least Big Wig #2 didn’t see me cackling and staggering along in some Rainman-mathematical fugue state, babbling in a Cockney accent. My career might never recover.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Caitlin, Patrick and I were walking down the hall. We were the only people on that floor – EXCEPT for a certain big-wig, an actor who is famous, and plays the lead in whatever movie he is in. He has … Continue reading