Diary of an Urban Bogman, Day 17. Visiting an Actor

“You coming? You’re not coming, are you?” I knew it. I knew I’d be going alone.

I have to visit this actor chap. Actors are the worst type of people, really. Especially when they get together and start singing bits from “Fiddler On The Roof” at each other. I hate the way they wave their arms around the place, and stand up while they talk when everyone else is sitting down, and then they pace back and forth all the time gesticulating frantically like a right-wing politician in full electoral frenzy. Actors, I decide, are much worse than the nazis.

“Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to come, really. I’m not gonna pull your leg. No, that’s not it… Not “pull your leg” but something else… Twist your arm! That’s it. Knew it was something to do with involuntary readjustment of limbs.” He has no idea what I’m talking about. Why are all my friends such simpletons?

“Yeah… Limbs…”

Click.

Guess I’ll have to go it alone. Insert heavy sigh and minor existential crisis here.

As soon as I enter the apartment, I know it was a bad idea. Of course, “Remain in Light” is playing on top volume from the speakers, and David is echoing my thoughts exactly.

“…and you may ask yourself: Well, how did I get here???”

Really. How the hell did I get here?

“Hey, hey, howareya, good to see you, cmere lemme get your coat… would you like a drink? I have craft beers or sparkling water, which would you prefer? Sit down, sit down, make yourself at home, I’ve got some music on there… do you like Talking Heads actually? …oh god it’s not raining out is it?”

As I try to figure out how I am supposed to prioritise this barrage of questions, I am handed a beer before even saying anything. There’s a picture of a dinosaur on it, or at least something that looks like a dinosaur, but… it’s drinking beer.

“This album, I mean the stellar work that Byrne and Eno did together, even after Talking Heads, it’s just amazing don’t you think? Have you ever read his book, the one about music? It’s great, I’d love to give you a lend of it. Although, I think my sister has it. He’s just so insightful, you know? Reminds me of this great anecdote…”

This is beginning to look a lot like a certain scene from American Psycho. Thankfully, the music in this particular instance is a lot better. The company, I’m not so sure. As a matter of fact, I’ve got the feeling that I’d rather be getting chased around the hallway with a chainsaw.

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