Infamous

The movie screening was great. The movie was very well made, but it wasnt Capote.

I met Bob at his place, we went to dinner at the Eatery(great ravioli) then we walked up to 66th and Broadway. When we got to the theater there were a few people milling about, wearing the writer's Guild apparel(Bob doesnt own any, thank god). They spotted us and rushed over, talking about this movie and that movie, and Myspace(terrible) and the demise of Tower Records. Bob didnt introduce me, and I wasnt sure why, but it wasnt anything to get upset about.

We got out tickets, and headed upstairs. In the theater we sat almost directly in the center. My feet stuck to the floor. A joke popped into my head: Why do gay men hate the sticky floors at movie theaters?......Why?.....Its false advertising!( Can I get a cymbol?)

I was turning over this notion in my mind when Bob leaned over to whispered "Sorry I didnt introduce you, I dont remember any of those people names. "

"Dont worry," I said, "neither do I."

He smiled at my little jab. Then the movie started.

Toby Jones, Daniel Craig, Hope Davis, Jeff Daniels, Sigorny(sp?) Weever, Sandra Bullock, they really cast the hell out of this movie. The acting was great, it was funny, and touching. Gwenyth Paltrow does a cameo in the beginning, where she sings in a night club, and the song, oh. I sound like such an art fag. But then again I technically am one.

P.s. Daniel Craig, defenitly the wonderful to look at. And he can act! Really well!

So after the film there was a Q & A with the writer/director. He talked about his craft, people asked bad questions, I think I may have learned something.

On the walk back to his apartment, Bob and I talked about Capote's writing, then Fitzgerald, then Hemingway(closet case). I made some comment about how being a writer gave me free license to be a raging alcoholic, Bob was amused at this.

So we walked back to his place, and I wasnt sure if I was going back up, or if he was going to bed...alone. Then his neighbor walked up and couldnt get his key to work in the door. Bob assisted him, and then we said goodnight. Bob reached out his hand, looking rather embarressed. I shook it, saying, "Buenos noches, amigo." The neighbor was already inside, "I'm sorry." Bob mouthed, as he walked through the door. "Until next time," I said. I turned on my heel and walked to 57th and 7th. I rode the trusty Q all the way to Brooklyn.