Finding Neighbors Page #2

- Of course.

- Um, excuse me.

Hello.

- Hey, how's your day going?

- Good.

- Yeah, what are you doing?

- Slogging along.

- What's that noise?

- I came down to the crossing.

- With your laptop?

- Yeah.

- Does that battery work?

- I plugged it in.

- You sound weird.

- Will you stop saying that?

Good night.

- Night.

Okay, Howie, give it up.

You got anything?

- Oh.

- Today we're making

peppered pork

with a cognac pan sauce.

So let's start

with our fresh ingredients,

a mlange of peppercorns,

fennel,

garlic, vegetable oil, sea salt,

and a flawless

5-pound pork butt.

- Oh. Ah.

- Oh, yeah, yeah.

- Oh, yeah.

Oh!

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

- It's Warren.

So they did it.

It's with legal.

They're gonna sue.

They want your advance back

and now damages on top.

You could have prevented this

any number of ways.

I'd appreciate any kind

of goddamn response.

- So what's this about, Sam?

Do you like what you see?

- I have no idea

how to answer that.

- You feeling a little funny

in your pants?

Sam?

What are you doing in there?

- Hey, Tucker.

The usual?

- Make it a double.

- You okay, man?

- Yeah, you know.

I just woke up.

- That's the life.

- Found it.

The dissertation.

"After his first two works

were largely overlooked,

"Samuel Tucker began to fear

that there was no appreciation

"for the serious artist

"in a culture obsessed

with constant stimulation.

"So the agenda for

the third book, Bluebird Sky,

"a collaboration

with then novice Andrew Koch,

"was to dumb it down

and to incorporate

"humorous reportage

on contemporary society

"along with more broadly

drawn characters.

"The novel was overshadowed

by the derivative motion picture

"which opened to mixed reviews,

"but they attracted

a crass mass-market audience,

which was not at all the kind

of following Tucker coveted."

- Wait a minute.

You make me sound...

elitist.

- Hello.

Did you meet the actors?

- I refused to go to the set.

- You dolt.

- It was sophomoric.

- Parts were so funny.

The miniature golf scene,

come on.

- Fine.

I love miniature golf.

- Sh*t.

Now what?

- Like the nice man

that you are,

you wait for my turn.

- Yeah.

- What the hell?

- I thought

you were good at this.

- You know, Paul and I have

such a hard time making friends.

- How did you meet?

- Online.

- How long has it been?

- Two years, a month, four days.

- And you hit a rough patch.

- I'm holding on

to someone else.

- Who?

- My darling, Jack.

Now the bastard sends an email.

- Hey.

- Wow.

- When was the last time

I told you

how much I appreciate you?

- I can't remember.

- That's exactly what I thought.

Peppered pork.

- Nice.

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