Fish poo, then dumplings, then fish poo
Hasn't been much to report over the past few days since Andrew and I were holed up in a hotel and a Starbucks in Grammercy and nothing was happening in my life outside of the pages of the First Critique.
But I simply must post this HI-larious story from Grace:
"Twice in two days I've been stopped on my bike while trying to get to/from school by some random looking people with no apparent authority. They are the film crew for some movie/commercial being shot at 10th and Lafayette. They step right in front of you and start saying, "ma'am, stop, ma'am, this will just take two minutes, you cannot ride through until we're finished the shot ma'am." The first time I ignored the guy, he grabbed my handle bars and insisted that I stop, and the cops came over to ask the same thing (hmm, NYPD working for Hollywood??). Okay, so I waited impatiently, cause I thought it was lame and I was late for class. So, tonight after class, I was riding home and the exact same thing happened, only this time, there were more of us being held up. More complaints, delivery guys trying to get through, women on their cell phones with important places to be; we were all being contained by these two production assistants who were literally pleading with us to stop. So we all did (about 9 of us). Then this homeless guy wanders up, wearing a dirty old "I heart NY" t-shirt and tries to walk right past the assistants, who try to stop him by explaining that it would only be a minute. The homeless guy--and this is the punch line, finally-- said, "I don't have time for this," and marched right past the two, into the street where they were filming, and all we heard was the director guy yell, "CUT!" as he threw up his hands and everyone moved into the street. It
was great. The homeless guy led us all to freedom.
Then I rode through China town which smelled like rotten fish poo and then really good steamed dumplings. And then poo again."
1 comment:
Speaking of NYPD 'Blue' working on a film set, I have a story about state police usage.
In Spring 2005, Phil, his brother, and I drove from Toronto to Nashville. I drove most of the way through the night (Ohio, most of Kentucky) until about 4:30 or so. Andrew (Phil's brother) took over just before we crossed into Tennessee. At about 5:15 am Andrew was pulled over for speeding. Officer Corsaw of the Tennesee state police, a gruff middle aged cop with sleeve tattoos, was unforgiving with Andrew, giving him a ticket for a few hundred dollars. We proceeded into Nashville, arriving at about 5:45 or so.
A few hours later, Phil and I were strolling across the rich lush lawns of Vanderbuilt University, admiring the brick buildings with white trim as we made our way to Joanna Dilts' (the youngest Dilts) graduation ceremony. Who were we to spy standing at a traffic barrier near the edge of campus managing the crowds but our dear old friend Officer Corsaw. We said hello but received no response... of course, we couldn't expect him to remember us, but it was funny to see him 'rented out' the following day to heard a bunch of upper class elitest through to their perfect darlings' 'big day'.
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