Sunday, June 30, 2002
Sunday Drive Extra
Today, I took my car to get it washed. At no point while I waited for my car was I given a three-picture development deal, staffed as a writer on a sitcom, or discovered by an agent who thought me to have a fresh face. Didn't have the opportunity to lie to a waitress/model/actress about my place in the Hollywood food chain and then discover her. Didn't surreptitiously toss a screenplay in the back of someone's convertible. I just sat in the afternoon heat in a gray, plastic chair that looked like a big hand and waited for them to towel off my car. But now my car is shiny. So very shiny.
