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They say that life immitates art, and vice versa. Yesterday, I felt like I was experiencing a scene straight off the silver screen. A romantic comedy, no less. Alas, I was not involved in doing the romancing. I was the driver.
Driving South on 405 to Santa Monica around 3:30, traffic is horrendous. It's almost as if aliens have stationed big, looming space stations above every major city in the world and the entire population of Los Angeles is scrambling to get the fuck out. I kept expecting to look in the rearview mirror and see just flames and flipping vehicles. Where the fuck can people possibly be going?
Anyway, Independence Day is not the movie I lived in. The point is, traffic was a nightmare, and we were maxing out at speeds of ten miles per hour. I was driving and Pat was sitting shotgun. While driving, Pat and I both noticed a very pretty girl in a silver VW Bug. Our lane was moving faster than hers and we quickly pulled ahead without a passing thought. My iPod was blasting my 80's playlist so we were both "getting into the groove", as Madonna would have it. Apparently the hot girl in the Bug was impressed with Pat's moves because she pulled up right next to us and said "Nice moves."
This was all Pat needed to charm her off her feet. Naturally, he taught her the "Yayo" which is just your hand kind of waving hello to your own face from inches away. Something a retard would do, you say? No, it is the hottest dance move sweeping the country. She participated in that joyfully. Now if this was real life, she would have crashed and perished, but since we had entered into the scripted world of some romantic comedy, everything was alright. Pat asked if she was an actress. No, she said, she was a model from Orange County. She was kind of intrigued that we were from Connecticut. She asked both of our names and said hers was Madison. To keep in line for conversation and not hit anything took skill. We were moving so slow that we were probably good contributors to why a man seventeen exits away was waiting twenty five minutes just to get to the end of the on-ramp. As Pat and Madison began to say their goodbyes, I was nudging Pat and going "Number! Number!" He bitched out and I sped ahead of Madison.
"That was weak, man." I told him. It's rare to ever see Pat Beck shy. I told him I'm slowing down and when she catches up he's getting her number. If she liked him enough to do the Yayo in traffic with him, then she probably wouldn't be outraged if he asked for her digits. I slowed down and Madison caught up, and as soon as she was next to us she burst out laughing, covering her smile. I think she really liked Pat. So Pat casually gives her the, "So, Madison, when are you gonna come visit us?" She says, "Visit you? Well, how am I gonna get in contact with you?" Pat coolly extends his arm out the window and hands her his cell phone: "Put your number in my phone." I had to maneuver the car very close for her to reach. Watching her try to put her number in his phone and her name looked very dangerous as she was driving.
At this point, a fat woman in a mini-van behind me got sick of the obvious canoodling going on in front of her and began to lay on the horn... and didn't stop for forty-five seconds. This may not seem long, but just stop and think about that. Listen to the first forty-five seconds of a song and realize that I just heard angry-blasting-fat-mini-van-woman horn for that entire time. It was unpleasant but comical at the same time. Thus the romantic comedy. I'm thinking maybe a Ben Affleck as Pat, Scarlette Johansen as Madison. I'm the stupid side-kick so I'd probaby be Clint Howard or some shit.
PS Go see "The Departed". It's already deadlocked to take home the Oscar for "Most Fatal Headshots in Least Amount of Screen Time".
Driving South on 405 to Santa Monica around 3:30, traffic is horrendous. It's almost as if aliens have stationed big, looming space stations above every major city in the world and the entire population of Los Angeles is scrambling to get the fuck out. I kept expecting to look in the rearview mirror and see just flames and flipping vehicles. Where the fuck can people possibly be going?
Anyway, Independence Day is not the movie I lived in. The point is, traffic was a nightmare, and we were maxing out at speeds of ten miles per hour. I was driving and Pat was sitting shotgun. While driving, Pat and I both noticed a very pretty girl in a silver VW Bug. Our lane was moving faster than hers and we quickly pulled ahead without a passing thought. My iPod was blasting my 80's playlist so we were both "getting into the groove", as Madonna would have it. Apparently the hot girl in the Bug was impressed with Pat's moves because she pulled up right next to us and said "Nice moves."
This was all Pat needed to charm her off her feet. Naturally, he taught her the "Yayo" which is just your hand kind of waving hello to your own face from inches away. Something a retard would do, you say? No, it is the hottest dance move sweeping the country. She participated in that joyfully. Now if this was real life, she would have crashed and perished, but since we had entered into the scripted world of some romantic comedy, everything was alright. Pat asked if she was an actress. No, she said, she was a model from Orange County. She was kind of intrigued that we were from Connecticut. She asked both of our names and said hers was Madison. To keep in line for conversation and not hit anything took skill. We were moving so slow that we were probably good contributors to why a man seventeen exits away was waiting twenty five minutes just to get to the end of the on-ramp. As Pat and Madison began to say their goodbyes, I was nudging Pat and going "Number! Number!" He bitched out and I sped ahead of Madison.
"That was weak, man." I told him. It's rare to ever see Pat Beck shy. I told him I'm slowing down and when she catches up he's getting her number. If she liked him enough to do the Yayo in traffic with him, then she probably wouldn't be outraged if he asked for her digits. I slowed down and Madison caught up, and as soon as she was next to us she burst out laughing, covering her smile. I think she really liked Pat. So Pat casually gives her the, "So, Madison, when are you gonna come visit us?" She says, "Visit you? Well, how am I gonna get in contact with you?" Pat coolly extends his arm out the window and hands her his cell phone: "Put your number in my phone." I had to maneuver the car very close for her to reach. Watching her try to put her number in his phone and her name looked very dangerous as she was driving.
At this point, a fat woman in a mini-van behind me got sick of the obvious canoodling going on in front of her and began to lay on the horn... and didn't stop for forty-five seconds. This may not seem long, but just stop and think about that. Listen to the first forty-five seconds of a song and realize that I just heard angry-blasting-fat-mini-van-woman horn for that entire time. It was unpleasant but comical at the same time. Thus the romantic comedy. I'm thinking maybe a Ben Affleck as Pat, Scarlette Johansen as Madison. I'm the stupid side-kick so I'd probaby be Clint Howard or some shit.
PS Go see "The Departed". It's already deadlocked to take home the Oscar for "Most Fatal Headshots in Least Amount of Screen Time".
posted by PJG at 10/07/2006 10:55:00 AM
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