It's Six A.M. Do you know where you are?
# Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh
# Oh, oh, oh-oh
# Oh, oh, oh
Yes.
I look at you... and I know you're mine.
And I run my fingers through your... curis.
Some other giris, they think a kiss is a contract.
When we kiss, we kiss with fire.
When we kiss, we kiss with passion.
When we kiss, we kiss with pain.
Don't fall in love.
# Just another touch of the love attack
# Get back, don't fight it
# Just another touch of the love attack
Hey.
# Just another touch...
Hey!
Why so sad?
- What? - Why so sad?
- I'm not sad. - Trouble with a woman?
I'm...
- What? - Trouble with a woman?
Something like that.
Do you want another drink? Last call.
Sure. Why not?
You're not the kind of guy to be at a place like this, at this time in the morning.
But here you are. And you can't say that the terrain is entirely unfamiliar,
although you must admit that the details are fuzzy.
You're the kind of guy who wakes up to the smell of bread from the bakery,
goes out, brings back the paper and croissants to your wife Amanda.
She left you a couple of months ago, and here you are. How did you get here?
All might come clear if you could just do a little more Bolivian marching powder.
But then again, this epidemic lack of clarity is a result of too much of that.
Your brain is composed of brigades of tiny Bolivian soldiers.
They're tired and muddy from their march through the night and they're hungry.
They need to be fed.
They need the Bolivian marching powder.
Hi. Got some blow?
- I love drugs! - That's something we have in common.
Have you ever noticed how the good words start with D?
D and L.
Drugs. Delight. Decadence.
- Debauchery. - Dexedrine.
Delectable. Debilitated. Deranged.
- Delinquent. - Delirious.
And L. Lush and luscious.
Languorous.
Librium.
- Libidinous. - What's that?
Horny.
What, do you have a problem with H words?
OK, everyone. The Palladium is now closed.
We'll reopen again tomorrow night at 11, and hope to see you then.
Barbara! Barbara!
- Where did Allagash go? - He left a couple of hours ago.
Shit.
Hey.
Morning. I only have a buck and a half. When we get to my apartment...
- Go fuck yourself. - Thank you.
MONDAY MORNING Whatever happened to Sunday?
Yeah?
What time is it?
Oh, shit!
Oh, shit.
Is she there yet?
She looking for me? Oh, shit.
All right. Christ, Meg.
OK, I'm coming in.
The "Post" is the most shameful of your several addictions.
You're a secret fan of killer bees, hero cops, sex fiends, lottery winners,
teenage terrorists, Liz Taylor, tough tots, sicko creeps, living nightmares,
life on other planets, spontaneous human combustion... coma babies.
- Morning. Thanks. - Hi.
Morning.
- Morning. - Morning.
Good morning. Tardy, tardy, very tardy.
Good morning, Mr Conway.
May I speak to you in my office?
Close the door.
How nice to see you, Jamie.
Thank you, Clara. Nice to see you.
I wasn't sure you were keeping office hours any more. Sit down.
Mr Vogel has decided to move the French piece up an issue.
That means I need it on my desk before you leave today.
- Is that clear? - Quite clear.
I want every single fact verified as per standard procedure.
I want the spelling of every name double-checked,
I want every accent in place, I want every figure correct.
If the writer gives the population of France, find the exact figure -
man, woman and child - down to the last baby born, the hour we go to press.
Is that clear?
Crystalline.
Because if there is one single mistake in that article, whose fault will it be?
The writer's fault?
- My fault. - Exactly.
And if I were you, I would be on the phone to Paris now,
where it is five in the afternoon and everyone is thinking of going home.
We know from your résumé that you're fluent in French,
so this will be no problem for you.
Absolutely. No problem.
My desk.
My ass.
What?
Hello. Vite, vite.
Allons-y travailler.
Still got that nasty sinus problem, I see.
Jamie? Listen, do you want some help with that?
- No, Meg, thanks. - I'm not busy. Sure?
Yeah, I'm sure.
Absolutely. There's a certain shabby nobility in failing all by myself.
Hi, Eleanor. Can you get those calls through to Paris for me this morning?
Right, yeah. No, the same two ministries.
Uh-huh. And I need you to get ahold of John Martin for me.
Right. You got that number?
Thanks.
Richard Rose? Richard B Rose. Thanks. Thanks a lot.
Jesus Christ.
Hello?
- Ne quittez pas... - Monsieur Conway, ne quittez pas.
Oh! Ne quittez pas.
Ne quittez pas. Oui. Je... Oui.
Why did I put French on my résumé?
Jamie, you don't speak French?
Pardon? Oui.
Oui. Je suis Monsieur Jamie Conway des États-Unis.
- Oui, alors. - Oui.
Je... Je travaille sur la...
essay... politique.
Shit. I mean, merde.
Pardon?
- Uh... Hello? - Au revoir, monsieur.
Hello?
Line went dead.
Mr Vogel. May I help you?
No, thank you.
- Clara? - Hello, Mr Vogel.
- Headache? - Yeah.
Um...
I need to go to the deli, get a little nourishment.
- Want anything? - I'd love a cheese Danish.
- All right. Anybody else want anything? - No, thank you.
- Last chance. - No, thanks.
Megan, if anybody calls, I'll be right back.
Mr Tyler. How's the travel section?
Ah, fine, fine. Big piece on Tibet this week.
So how's that beautiful wife of yours?
She's fine. She's in Paris, modelling.
Really? I'm sure I saw her modelling clothes on a TV talk show this weekend.
No, it must have been a rerun.
- I'd know if she was in town. - Yeah, you'd certainly hope so.
So how's Clara behaving?
Same as usual, like a fourth-grade tyrant.
I always wanted to ask somebody, in fact...
does Clara piss in the men's room or the ladies'?
- I don't believe she pisses. -
Marvellous!
So how do you like it down here, in fact?
All in all, I'd rather be in fiction.
- You write, don't you? - It seems to be a matter of opinion.
Read Hazlitt, that's my advice.
Read Hazlitt and write before breakfast every day.
- OK, what can I do you for? - Pastrami on rye.
- A little mustard today, Jamie? - Yeah, mustard. Mustard and butter.
And butter. Just like your mother made it, huh?
- What do you know about it? - That's how my mother used to make it.
- That is just so unbelievable... - Listen, I took two messages for you.
One from Monsieur Something at the department of something.
And one from your brother Michael.
- Really? - Yeah. He said it was urgent.
All right.
- Is Vogel still in there? - Yeah.
Hm. I wonder what's going on.
- Allô? - Practising our French, are we?
No, excuse me, ma'am. I thought it was my call from Paris.
Could you spare a moment to see me in my office?
Sure.
I'm about to find out.
Yes?
Close the door.
- Mr Vogel. - Good afternoon.
- Something wrong? - Did you verify the facts in this article?
"Precipitate" or "precipitous"?
Oh, yeah. Yes, yes.
Yes, I remember.
Mr Vogel called me up and expressed his concern
about the president's correct usage of the English language.
In this piece, the president warns against "precipitous action".
Mr Vogel felt that "precipitate" was the word that he was looking for.
- Correct. - Go on.
Well, I called the White House.
I tried to explain to them the importance of the distinction,
and I spent several hours on hold.
So, finally, with the composing room and everybody screaming for the final pages,
I checked with Webster's Third Edition, which listed them as synonymous.
- The third edition? - Yeah.
I know that the second edition gives different meanings for the words,
but the third edition's a lot racier.
Hello?
- John Martin for you. - Hello, John Martin. Jamie Conway here.
- We got a connection here? Hello? - Jamie. Gotham magazine.
Right. I'm checking facts on that piece you wrote about the French elections.
- I think you can go with that, Jamie. - That's great. It's really good. Right.
Where did you get this about the French government and Paramount Pictures?
No. John...
No, I can't run a line through that. The next three paragraphs depend on it.
- No, I just need to know if it's true or not. - He's very well connected.
You heard it where?
- At a fucking cocktail party? - Come on, Jamie.
- I gotta go. - No! No, don't hang up.
- Hold on. - All right, get the door. I'll hold.
Just call me back, all right?
This is gonna take all night.
Jamie, I want it on my desk before you leave.
I've left my door unlocked.
- Jimmy. Good to see you. - Mr Allagash. How are you?
Good. A vodka on the rocks, and can I borrow your phone?
- You got it. - Thank you.
Hello? Hello?
What are you doing at the office? Monstrous events are scheduled.
What happened to you Saturday? I had to walk home. I couldn't pay for a cab.
- I left. - Yeah, I know.
I took this bimbo back to her place. Did some of her off-the-boat quality drugs.
We scooped it out of these Ming vases, did it off each other's naked bodies.
- It was fucking beautiful, man. - Bullshit.
- No, it's true. - God, I hate you.
Let me tell you about tonight. Elaine and Theresa are dying to meet you.
Theresa's father owns an oil company.
Elaine is soon to be in a major TV commercial.
And I think I have cornered a big chunk of Bolivia's national product.
I'm gonna be working most of the night. Then I'm gonna go home and sleep.
Give me a time. I'll pick you up.
Call me in half an hour. I gotta finish this.
- I'll see you in a while. Bye-bye. - Bye.
Thanks a lot, Jimmy.
There you go, Clara.
Read it and weep.
Good night.
# It's all right, pretty baby
# Gonna need my help someday
# Whoa, it's all right, pretty baby
"He was expecting her on the afternoon flight from Paris
when she called to say she would not be coming home."
"'Taking a later flight? ' he asked."
"'No', she said. 'I'm starting a new life."'
# Go ahead, pretty baby
# Honey, knock yourself out
# Oh, go ahead, pretty baby
# Honey, knock yourself out
# I still love ya, baby
# Cos you don't know what it's all about
Screw it.
# Bright lights, big city
# Gone to my baby's head
# Oh, bright lights, big city
- Who is it? - Narcotics squad.
We're soliciting donations for children without drugs.
- Would you open the door, please? - Yeah. One minute. Hang on, Tad.
- Ready to roll? The giris are waiting. - Where are we rolling to?
Into the heart of the night.
Wherever there are dances to be danced, drugs to be hoovered,
women to be Allagashed.
It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it.
- Speaking of drugs, you in possession? - Negative.
- Not even a single line for young Tad? - Sorry.
- Not even a mirror to lick? - Jesus. Help yourself.
Where the fuck did you get this?
I inherited that from my grandmother.
Oh, Christ. I gotta change this shirt.
- There's something on here. - Yeah, that's dust, Tad.
It's probably got better coke content than some of the shit we buy by the gram.
D'you know that 90 of household dust is composed of human epidermal matter?
- That's skin to you. - That's why I'm thinking about Amanda.
She left her skin behind.
Doing a little writing, are we? Yeah! "Dead Amanda."
I told you you'd get more nooky if you just told people your wife was dead.
- I hit the wrong key. - It's the sympathy vote that counts.
It's a lot better than saying she fit you with horns and kited off to Paris.
Are you sure you have no drugs?
I think there's some Robitussin in the bathroom.
I'm disappointed in you, coach.
I figured you for the kind of guy who saves something for a rainy day.
- I've fallen in with bad companions. -
Maybe Amanda died in a plane crash.
She was coming home from Paris on the day of your first anniversary.
That's fuckin' beautiful.
Come on, Warner. Answer the goddamn phone.
Shit!
I know that asshole's sitting in his loft on top of a pile of toot, ignoring the phone.
It's 11 o'clock. It's a little early for Odeon,
but once we're downtown, it'll be happy hunting ground for sneeze and squeeze.
Do you ever have an overwhelming desire to just spend a quiet evening at home?
No!
- Elaine. Theresa. - Hi.
- This is Jamie Conway. - Hi.
- Hi, Jamie. - Hi. How are you?
- Aren't you Amanda White's boyfriend? - Husband. Yeah, I was.
You didn't hear? She was in Paris and got hit by a burst of terrorist crossfire.
Palestinians, French police... A real fluke thing.
Senseless death. She was an innocent bystander.
Jamie doesn't like to talk about it.
- That's terrible. - Yeah...
A tragedy. I have to take care of some business, but you'll take care of him?
- Is that true? - Not really, no.
What is Amanda doing these days?
She's in Paris doing the Oscar de la Renta collection.
- Wait a minute. Is she alive? - We sort of split up.
Too bad for you. She was yummy.
Sort of the slinky girl-next-door look. Very ingenuous.
- I don't understand this. - Neither do I.
- Aren't you a writer? - I do some writing.
More of an editor. Gotham magazine.
God, I've been reading it all my life. I mean, my parents get it.
I read it at the gynaecologist. What's your name again? Should I know you?
I haven't been published yet, but they have a couple of my short stories.
Got my fingers crossed.
Matter of time.
Don't you want a drink?
Yeah. Yeah, that'd be great.
Too late.
Bingo.
Seems like I spend about half my life in bathrooms.
- Hey, Bruno. Two vodkas. - You got it.
Hey, Jamie.
Hey, Rich.
- Rich, when'd you get back? - I can't hear you.
Where's Amanda?
I'm sorry. That's terrible.
Jamie, I'm so sorry.
Two Stolis on the rocks.
Here we go. Did you have the vodka or the vodka?
- No margarita? - No margarita. Vodka.
- Vodka. - Thanks.
Jamie!
What did you say to them?
What?
What did you say to Rich and Kathy?
I told them Amanda died of leukaemia.
- What? - I told them Amanda died of leukaemia.
That's not funny. My mom died of cancer.
Jamie.
I'm sorry.
- What was that about? - I just said something in really bad taste.
Oh, Jamie.
I'm so sorry about Amanda. She was such a pretty girl and you made a great couple.
It's all right, Kathy. She's not dead.
- What? She's not dead? - No, she's not dead.
He's pulling your leg. She's in Paris.
Oh.
- She's doing a shoot. - Oh.
- Well, did you break up or something? - Sort of. Maybe. I don't know.
Oh.
Wanna dance?
- No, not right now. Maybe later? - OK.
All right. Later.
- I tried. - Where are the giris?
Bathroom.
- Without me? - I guess so.
- You gonna come? - No, I'll catch you on the rebound.
Excuse me, ladies. Coming in.
Hi. How you doin'?
Fine.
All right.
Hey, save some for me.
Wanna join the party?
No, thanks. Bon appétit.
# Baby, in the heat of the night
# You know what to do
# Good love, you got a
# Cherry pie, apple kisses
# Everything is cool
# Technicolor children in Piccadilly Square
# Whisper words - erotica, when you kiss me there
# Gustav Mahler, No.3, is jamming on the box
# I'll have another glass of you, this time on the rocks
# Fourth of July in every stroke
# A symphony of light and sound
# Oh, I want to die from all the smoke
# Fire breaks out when you're around
# Good love, you got a
# Yeah
# Baby, in the heat of the night
# You know what to do
# Good love, you got a
# Cherry pie, apple kisses
# Everything is cool
It's very late.
You don't remember getting home, but you dream about the coma baby.
What? What do you want?
- You gonna come out? - No way, José.
I like it in here. Everything I need is pumped in.
Mom's on her way out.
Hey, if the old lady goes, then I'm going with her.
- Don't be like that. - # I can't hear you
# I can't hear you
Come out. Listen to me, you've gotta come out.
Open up. It's the doctor.
They're never gonna take me alive.
Hello?
Jamie?
Oui.
Hi, it's Megan. I just wanted to make sure you were awake.
Oh, yeah? Are you kidding me, Megan?
I'm making breakfast. I'm making sausage and eggs.
I hope you don't mind, but I didn't want you getting in Dutch with Clara again.
She's not here yet, but I wanted to make sure you were awake.
- You sure you're awake? - Certainly feels like it.
Headache. Queasy stomach. All the vital signs. I'll be right there.
TUESDAY You should have called in sick.
I'll get it.
Hello?
Michael, hello.
No, he's not here yet, but I expect him any minute.
He didn't get back to you yesterday? I told him you called.
Yes, absolutely. I'll tell him.
- Morning. - You just missed your brother.
You should call him right away. It sounds important.
- Where's Clara? - Still not here.
I just had a call from Clara. She's sick. She won't be in today.
- Nothing fatal, I hope. - I'm to distribute the assignments.
- Did you finish the French piece? - More or less.
If she's not coming in, maybe I can take one last look, make sure it's OK.
She had it sent over to typesetting.
She even had a photocopy messengered to her apartment.
Jeez.
Why does she hate me so much? It's not my fault she never got married.
- I think she's determined to get me fired. - Not possible.
The magazine has a tradition of never acknowledging its mistakes.
- She's not gonna fire you, Jamie. - I'm not so sure.
Mm.
She's got a heart like a 12-minute egg.
Let's see now.
First in a long series on cancer research.
Megan.
An inventor who's received his hundredth patent for a nose-hair clipping device.
Yasu.
Here's an amusing one for you, Jamie.
A meeting of the Society of Polar Explorers at the Sherry-Netherland.
All right, good. So there was such an event.
Uh-huh. And you did serve smoked emperor penguin on Triscuits. Great.
Wait, one more thing. Yeah. Uh...
Is it true that somebody wore a headdress made out of walrus skin?
God, I'll be damned.
No, that's it. Great. Thanks. Bye.
All right. Facts are stranger than fiction.
OK. Polar explorer piece is put to bed.
I'm gonna grab a bite. Anybody want anything?
- I'd love a bagel. Toasted. No butter. - You would. Bagel, toasted, no butter.
Afternoon.
Mr Hardy?
I was just thinking it could use some fish.
All water coolers could use some fish.
The old crew in the great days of this magazine would have thought of it.
Siamese fighting fish in the water cooler.
What's your name now? I know. It's on the tip of my tongue.
- Jamie Conway. - Jamie Conway!
Jamie Conway... Didn't you send a story to us in the fiction department?
Yeah. Yes.
Yes, several months ago.
- Did you read it? - Oh, yes.
A lower-case Scott Fitzgerald without the crackup.
I guess you could say that, yeah.
You got a cough. Here.
I knew Fitzgerald's friend, Bunny Wilson, you know.
Yeah, I know.
The only great American man of letters.
- Where are you headed? - I was going out to lunch.
Good. I'll join you.
Refresh my memory. What's it about?
A young writer goes to Kansas City, meets a beautiful girl.
They marry, come to New York City, she models.
They start going out, start doing drugs...
Very interesting style. Very interesting sense of story.
Good sense of character, a sense of place.
I assume it's autobiographical.
Ah! Phew.
- A couple more, please. - I'm still nursing this one.
It reminds me of the kind of stuff I used to write when I was a kid.
I started off as office boy at the magazine. I got published every so often.
I used to write satirical sketches on Manhattan highlife.
I know. I used to read that stuff. Amazing.
Yeah. A lot more fun than being an editor.
All I do as an editor is read a lot of undisciplined, untalented crap.
- Your table's ready. - Thanks.
Don't forget the two drinks. Come on, right over here. This way.
So what are you working on now?
I'm... thinking about writing a novel.
I've been making some notes.
I'm just having a hard time actually sitting down and writing.
My wife left me, so...
It sounds corny, but I've been doing a lot of suffering.
Have you ever considered getting an MBA?
- Absolutely not. - I'm not saying go into business.
No, but write about it. That's the stuff.
Right now, the guys who understand business will be writing the new literature.
Money is poetry now.
I don't want to believe that.
It may be true, but, no, I don't want to believe that.
Don't be seduced by all that crap about garrets and art, like I was.
Write about money.
A couple more!
I knew some of the giants. I knew Bill Faulkner.
Yeah, we had a lot of fun.
We used to go to Musso's and get pissed for lunch and roar around.
Talk about everything under the sun.
Women, life, death, art... but most of all we talked about work.
About commitment.
- About not selling out. - I gotta go.
- No! Have one more for the road. - No, I can't, Alex. I can't.
So you think I've got some talent?
- I'm not just wasting my time? - How do I know?
One little story - I can't tell from one little story. Anyone can write one little story.
- Let me... - No, save it.
This is on me. It's all right.
Thanks.
Amanda.
Amanda...
- Amanda! - In here.
Amanda.
Sorry I took so long. It's pouring. I couldn't get a cab.
That's OK. Here.
- It's OK. We're just starting. - Here. Put this all over your face.
This is my husband Jamie, the writer I was telling you about.
- This is Luigi. - How you doin'?
And Lucas.
Just the head? I thought it was the body.
I was looking forward to seeing you lying naked in a vat of latex batter.
No, just my head.
- Wait a minute, how do I breathe? - We'll put straws in your nose.
Sounds familiar.
I didn't know you were gonna stay that long. You never said you'd be that long.
I checked the messages. There's a party at Magique tonight.
And your agent called. She said that your flight leaves at ten tomorrow.
And she said that you should be prepared to stay the full two weeks.
You never said anything about staying that long. I didn't hear about that.
- - You OK? What's the matter? Amanda?
- She's OK. - Hey, Amanda.
- You OK? - She's OK. Don't be scared.
- All right. Fine. Are you all right? - Mm-hm.
I love you. Just relax, OK? Relax.
It's OK. Amanda? I love you.
She's back.
She's in town.
Click Modeling Agency. May I help you?
This Andrew Carrington, the photographer.
I'm in town and interested in working with Amanda White. Is she in New York?
Yes. She's doing the Oscar de la Renta show at the Parsons School of Design
- Thursday afternoon. - Marvellous. Terrific. Thanks.
- Yeah? - Mr Conway's on the line.
- I'll take it. Jamie. - I gotta talk to you. Meet me at Cybelle's.
- I'm really busy. - You gotta meet me.
- What's the matter? - I'll explain when I see you. Just be there.
Camellia, I'm gonna take the rest of the afternoon off.
How you doin'?
Double vodka, please.
- Hey. What's the big deal? - I need a favour.
That's funny, so do I. What you drinking?
- Double vodka. - The same, please. Thanks.
You go first. What's yours?
Tonight, I have a very steamy engagement with the glorious Inge.
- Which one is Inge? - The aspiring actress.
- New York is full of aspiring actresses. - Yeah, well, Inge was also Miss August.
- Penthouse Miss August? - You got it.
- The one with the parrot? - That's Inge.
Unfortunately, my cousin Vicky is in town today.
She's a grad student at Princeton. She's on some academic gig at NYU.
I promised her I'd pick her up early, take her to dinner.
This is where you gotta help me out.
- Why do I envision a prig with glasses? - Hey, hey.
She's an Allagash. She has Allagash genes. She's a very attractive lady.
She'll also inherit a little Allagash money.
That's all right.
Can't let me down, coach.
Anything I possess, including some of Bolivia's finest, is yours.
All right. OK, I'll tell you what. I'll have dinner with your canine cousin...
Good.
...if you get me into the Oscar de la Renta show at Parsons Art School, Thursday.
Amanda's in town. She's working that show.
I know.
OK.
Excuse me? You wouldn't happen to be Vicky, would you? Allagash's cousin?
- Yeah. Hi. - Hi. Jamie.
- He told you, right? - He did.
Good. Right.
- Sorry I'm so late. - It's OK. I was looking around.
- This is a great bookstore. - Yeah.
It's a little early for dinner. You wanna do something? You wanna get a drink?
- All right. - We could just go for a walk.
All right.
- Where are you from? - Up near Marblehead. Allagash country.
- How about you? - Bucks County. Your parents?
They divorced three years ago. Yours?
- A happy marriage. - You're lucky.
- Any brothers or sisters? - Yeah, I have a brother.
I have a brother too.
- So what did Tad tell you about me? - Not much.
Not much.
What did he say?
He raved. He tried to build you up.
I was expecting a field hockey player with thick glasses and lockjaw.
What did he tell you about me?
- Not much. - Come on.
He said you were a cross between a young F Scott Fitz-Hemingway
and the later Wittgenstein.
- That's it? Nothing else? - Nothing else.
Tad is a great guy. Tad is a helluva guy.
You gotta admire his style, his joie de vivre, his savoir-faire, his sprezzatura.
He's not necessarily the man for a heart-to-heart, but he...
He's been a good friend to me in a time of need and...
And he's generous in his own careless way. Are you two close?
- I think he's an ass. - Exactly.
I gotta go and wash my hands. I'll be right back.
Let's see if it's possible to get through the evening without chemicals for a change.
Tell me about your job. I guess I'm supposed to be impressed.
Don't be. I don't like it much and they don't like me, so it works out.
I know people who would kill for a job like that.
Actually, it's pretty tedious.
When I first started, I thought it would be my first step towards literary glory,
and it was just a matter of time before I joined the roster of famous writers.
All I do is pore over encyclopaedias, dictionaries and government pamphlets.
It's not very creative.
I've only just met you, but that doesn't really seem like your kind of job to me.
Yeah, I don't think it is.
Well, I've really gotta go now. This is my car.
Oh. I wish you didn't.
Yeah, me too.
- You have my number, right? - Right.
You should call me.
Yeah, I'd like to.
Drive safe.
WEDNESDAY
You should have checked your horoscope in THE POST.
- Jamie. - Hey.
Clara's in a rage. She says the French piece is a mess,
but it's too late to pull it from the issue.
- She said it was a mess? - Yep.
She's got Vogel in her office right now.
How bad could it be? You got most of it done, didn't you?
I really don't know.
- She said it was a mess? - A mess.
I would like to see you in my office immediately.
She said it was a mess.
I would like to know what happened.
I screwed up?
You screwed up.
May I be so bold as to ask for a little elaboration?
Really, I'm interested. Just how did you screw up, exactly?
Well?
Do you realise just how serious this is?
You have endangered the reputation of this magazine.
We have built a reputation for scrupulous accuracy with regard to matters of fact.
Do you know that in 50 years of publication
there has been only one printed retraction?
Can I ask what errors you found exactly?
Two accents reversed.
An electoral district in Central France, incorrectly identified as Northern.
A minister ascribed to the wrong department.
This is just what I've found so far. I'm scared to death of what I'll uncover.
The proofs are a mess. I can't tell what you have or haven't verified.
The point is, you have not followed standard procedure
which should be second nature to you,
which procedure is thoroughly outlined in your manual,
which procedure is the net result of years of collective labour,
and the proper application of which ensures that, in so far as possible,
errors of fact do not appear in this magazine.
Do you have anything to say for yourself?
- I don't think so. - This isn't the first time.
I've given you the benefit of the doubt before.
You seem to be unable to perform the duties required for this job.
I'd like to hear what you have to say.
I assume I'm fired.
That's correct. Effective immediately.
Anything else?
I'm sorry.
I know you are.
- Well? - It was nice working with you.
- No. She didn't? She couldn't. - Yes, she did.
- What exactly did she say? - The gist of it was that I'm fired.
You didn't have enough time. Everybody knows John Martin's research is sloppy.
- She can't do that. - Go to the arbitration committee.
- The way they handled the schedule... - Look, it doesn't matter!
- I'll clean this up tomorrow. - Jamie...
Listen, can we have lunch tomorrow?
I'd really like to talk to you.
Yeah, Meg. Sure.
Are you all right?
Well...
Oh, your brother called again. He says he's gotta talk to you.
I don't wanna talk to my brother.
Lunch. Tomorrow.
Don't forget.
You wanna buy a ferret?
No. No, thanks.
Loose joints? Genuine Hawaiian sens.
His name is Fred.
- What else you got? - Monkeys, boas, coke.
- How much? - $50 a half.
Half what? Half borax, half mannitol?
Pure stuff. Uncut.
Sure.
No, I can't make the 50. If it's 50...
- If it's 50, I can't buy Fred. - You're gonna buy Fred too?
- How much is he? - I'll make you a good deal.
One more.
This is it.
- Step a little lighter. -
- It's locked. - No problem.
- - Calm down, Fred. Give me the leash.
- I don't have it. - I gave it to you.
- I don't have it. - All right. Let me just put him in a drawer.
Hold this. All right.
Calm down, Fred. You're about to become the mascot for the whole department.
A real live ferret for the fact checkers.
OK.
- Let him out. - Fuck, no. You let him out.
- OK, but hold the flashlight. - I'll hold the flashlight.
All righty.
OK. Easy now.
Hi, Fred. Hi, buddy.
Oh, Jesus! Get it off! Get it off!
Throw it! Throw it!
Not at me!
Argh!
- Ah! - Jesus Christ!
- Jamie, get this fucking thing off me! - I can't. I'm bleeding here, Tad.
Jesus Christ! Get the fuck off of me!
Jamie!
Oh, my God.
Come here, let me see.
- Oh, shit. - Jesus.
Look at this.
One more inch...
- Oh, God. - What's going on in here?
- Oh, fuck. - Is the door locked?
Oh, shit.
I know you're in there.
Pygmies. I'm surrounded by pygmies.
Alex, hi.
I lost my wallet in here this morning. I just came back to find it.
- Got it. - He found it.
- I knew the giants. - Yeah.
I worked with the giants. Guys whose words...
...words went out into the worid and kicked some ass.
All right! OK.
Giris, then. Women, whatever.
Lillian Hellman, Katherine Anne Porter, Anaïïs Nin and Dorothy Parker.
I'm talking talent here, male or female.
Not like these precious turds around today.
These goddamn pygmies and their pygmy talent.
- Fred. -
Jesus.
What the hell is that thing?
Oh, no.
- Let's get outta here. - I can't leave him like this.
- What? You wanna explain this? Let's go. - Shit! Just a minute.
- All right, Alex? - He's fine.
Get the suitcase.
- Where's Fred? - He went down the hall.
Fred. Freddie...
- Fuck Fred. Let's get outta here. - You're on your own, Fred.
Fitz... and Faulkner.
Faulkner and Theodore... Dreiser.
I can't remember when I had my last tetanus shot.
I wonder if it needs stitches.
Ow!
Let me see.
- Nah, I don't think so. - No?
If Fred was rabid, he wouldn't have been so friendly before you put him in the case.
I hear rabies shots are really painful. They put needles in your dick or something.
Give me your hand.
Oh! Oh! Oh!
Great. Shit.
So much for antiseptic. Now for anaesthetic.
I can see the headline in the Post now:
"Faulkner Friend Falls Afoul of Furry Fiend."
"De casibus virorum illustrium", as we used to say in the old Latin class.
- What does that mean? - Something about the fall of famous men.
- Yeah. - Hey.
- Don't answer that. - I think it's Warner.
Heartbreak Hotel.
- Yo, Michael. - I'm not home. No.
How's it going on the home front?
Yeah. No, Jamie's not here right now.
Amanda's not here either.
Me? I'm sitting here watering the plants. They got this real thirsty jade tree.
Yeah. Would I kid you, Michael?
Yeah. No, I think they took off to the Hamptons.
Yeah. Look, Michael, I gotta take off. I'm gonna leave a message, I promise.
Bye-bye.
What's wrong with Michael? He sounds really upset.
I don't wanna talk about it.
OK.
I almost forgot.
Here's the invitation to the fashion show.
Jesus Christ.
Thanks a lot for taking Vicky off my hands last night. Inge is eternally grateful.
My pleasure.
- Really? You got lucky, did you? - None of your goddamn business.
You never really liked Amanda much, did you?
God knows she wasn't hard to look at.
I don't know why you felt like you had to marry her.
Yeah.
I've been wondering the same thing.
- Did you see the sign on her forehead? - What sign?
"Space to let. Long and short-term leasing."
We met in a bar. It was too dark to read.
THURSDAY Facing the Facts.
Your invitation, please.
- Has it started yet? - Just. You'll have to sit in the back.
- Double vodka. - The bar's closed.
One for my date, too.
Amanda.
Amanda!
Amanda...
Amanda, I want an explanation.
Amanda! I want answers. I want an explanation.
I wanna know why. I just wanna know why.
Amanda? Amanda, I want answers!
I just wanna know why!
Amanda?
Amanda, you owe me.
- You owe me an explanation! - Let's go.
- That's my wife. - You're outta here, pal!
- You're outta here! - Amanda!
Amanda!
You're outta here, buddy.
Stay outta here!
Jamie?
Jamie.
Jamie!
Jamie, stop!
Jamie!
Jamie, stop! It's me, Michael.
Jamie!
Hi. Remember me?
I remember something about a lunch date.
Damn.
I'm sorry.
By the way, whatever happened to my bagel? Toasted, no butter.
How about dinner?
One more meal with you could be the death of me.
Tell me about Amanda. I get the feeling something bad happened.
Oh.
Amanda.
My Amanda, the Amanda that I fell in love with, is a fictional character.
I made her up. She doesn't exist.
I didn't realise this until another Amanda did me in with a collect call from Paris.
- Mind if I open another bottle? - Sure.
Fabulous.
I'm not sure which one did what and when she did it,
but I do know I met one of 'em in Kansas City. I ever tell you that?
- No. - I worked there, right out of college.
Kansas City Star.
Hemingway worked there. It was his first job, too.
Anyway, I met her in a bar called the Bum Steer.
I couldn't believe my luck. She walks right up to me, this gorgeous creature.
I found out later that she overheard me tell the bartender I was from New York.
I should've known.
So, within a week, she moved in with me.
My education, she said, excited her,
and her desire to educate herself, with my help, excited me.
She wanted to better herself.
She had a really terrible childhood. Really grim.
Divorce. Stepfathers - plural.
Trailer parks. All that shit.
My writing excited her, and the fact that she was excited, excited me.
We got excited a lot together.
So eight months later, we moved to New York. That was inevitable.
She wanted to live a magazine ad, and I wanted to live a literary cliché.
My parents weren't exactly thrilled with us living together, but they liked Amanda.
They welcomed her like she was a fucking refugee, especially my mother.
As soon as we got here, she was desperate to get married.
She was worried I was gonna leave her.
No, I think she was worried that my book would be published, I'd become famous,
and I'd find somebody else. Anyway, after a year of living together,
and the way she behaved - "Marry me, marry me, marry me" -
we decided it was the thing to do, so we did it.
So there she was - Mrs Conway on my arm.
People were knocked out by her. All my friends said "God, she could be a model",
which was exactly what she wanted to hear.
So one day, she takes it upon herself to stop off at a modelling agency.
Fuck me if she doesn't come home with a contract, like that. Said she was a natural.
So then her career takes off. She's on magazine covers, commercials, layouts.
All her dreams are coming true.
Not true of mine.
I was trying to write.
I was working on a novel.
Submitted some short stories to the magazine.
But our life was complicated then.
She was invited everywhere that I wasn't invited, and I was invited a lot.
And getting out of bed at 6am to work on a novel just kept getting harder...
and harder and harder.
And then there was this change, this really subtle change.
I know when I was out she was snooping around my desk to see if I, the writer...
was making any progress.
I know this because she started smiling...
when I started telling people at cocktail parties that I was working on a book.
Then, about two months ago,
she was packing for a trip to Paris, for the collection.
She started to cry.
I asked her what was the matter. She said she was worried about the flight.
She was nervous about the flight.
By the time the cab came, she was fine.
I kissed her at the door.
She told me to water the plants.
The night before she was due home, she called.
Her voice sounded peculiar.
She said she wasn't coming home this time.
I didn't understand.
She said her career was really taking off over there.
So...
a couple of days later, this man calls.
He said he was her lawyer.
Easiest thing all the way around, he said, was for me to sue her...
for sexual abandonment.
A legal term, he said.
My friend Allagash says that not only was her leaving not surprising,
it was inevitable.
And my heartbreak is just a variation on the same old story.
- Where's the john? - Right in there.
Are you all right? Are you OK?
I'm fine. Yeah, I'm fine.
You're too high.
"Contraceptive jelly."
"Unscented. Colourless. Stainless."
This is good news.
"Megan Avery. Lithium carbonate. Take four times daily."
Tetracycline.
Valium.
Victory. Valium.
You're too high.
You gotta come down.
Too high, too high.
- You all right? - Fine.
- Just getting the dishes out of the way. - That's a good policy.
- You want some more wine? - No, I'm not much of a drinker any more.
That's also a good policy.
Have you been able to write at all?
What are you gonna do? Do you have any job prospects?
I've got some leads.
I know an editor at Harper and Row who'd be happy to talk to you.
Megan, I appreciate your efficiency, but getting fired has wiped my ass out,
and I'd just as soon put the prospect of any future employment on hold right now.
But thank you. Thanks very much.
If you need a little money to tide you over, don't hesitate to ask.
- You are terrific. You are a rare woman. - I just wanna see you back on your feet.
- Everything's gonna work out. - A rare woman.
Everything's gonna be all right.
No. That's not what you want.
- Jamie, that's not what you want. - Yeah.
No.
Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh.
No, no. Calm down. Calm down.
Poor baby. Poor baby.
- Poor little baby. - I gotta go.
- Oh, fuck, I gotta go. - Jamie, are you all right?
I'm fine. Thanks for the linguini and sympathy.
- Jamie, are you all right? - I'm OK. I'm OK.
Michael.
- How'd you get in here? - I talked to the super. He let me in.
- Sneaky little shit. - What the hell's going on with you, huh?
I've been trying to track you down for over a week.
- When did you get here? - Today. You saw me!
- I thought you were somebody else. - Bullshit!
I left about 150 messages at your office.
Then I go to your office and they tell me that you're no longer employed there.
- What's going on? - What do you wanna see me about?
I don't wanna see you. I'd just as soon leave you to drown in coke,
or whatever it is you're doing,
but Dad's worried about you, and I'm worried about Dad.
Why? How is Dad?
Oh, what do you care?
Dad's in California on business. At least, he was until last night.
He called me to make sure you're coming home.
Now, since you never call or answer, here I am.
- Now, you're coming back with me. - OK.
- D'you hear me? - OK!
Tomorrow's the anniversary - one year - in case you've forgotten.
We're gonna spread her ashes in the lake, and Dad wants you to be there.
Jamie?
- You've forgotten Mom completely. - Don't get righteous with me.
- You haven't seen Dad since... - Shut up!
- Don't tell me to shut up! - Shut up!
Shut the fuck up, OK? I'll be there! Shut up!
Shut up!
Uh...
Can I make a sandwich?
Help yourself.
Where's Amanda?
- Shopping. - At this time of night?
Find everything you need in there?
Well, the milk is sour, this bread is mouldy.
What the hell do you live on?
- A lot of things that start with D. - What?
Amanda isn't shopping, Mike. Amanda left me.
I'm sorry.
I never really liked Amanda much.
To tell you the truth, I always thought she was a fake.
I was just thinking, when Mom was sick,
Amanda was really cold and distant.
It's like she resented Mom dying or something.
Well... you think you would have married her if Mom hadn't been sick?
Mom never said it would do her heart good to see you get married,
but you wanted her to be happy, and she wanted you to be happy.
In the end, you might've confused what she wanted with what Amanda wanted.
You want a couple of lines?
Uh, no, thanks.
- You mind if I take a shower? - No, would you, Mike? That'd be great.
You know, Jamie, it was exactly a year ago today that you came home.
I'm gonna hop in the shower.
Good.
- Have you slept with a lot of giris? -
- Mom, really, that's... - Oh, come on. What's the matter?
Yeah.
- Yes, Mom, there have been some giris. - Really?
- Mom, I'm not going into details. - Why not?
- It's embarrassing. - Don't be embarrassed.
Just, you know, tell me what it's like.
Do you enjoy it?
Yeah. Yeah, I like it.
You've slept with giris that you haven't been in love with?
Is it different when you're in love?
Sure.
It's better.
Mm-hm.
What about Sally Keegan? Did you sleep with her?
Once. The night of the prom.
I thought so.
What about Stephanie Bates?
- Oh, God. - Hm?
How do you know this stuff?
You were the funniest little boy.
You were an awful baby.
You were a real screamer.
You cried through the night.
There were some nights...
we had to take you out, put you in the car, and drive you around, to get you to sleep.
You were something.
Hold my hand. Hold my hand.
Yes.
Oh!
- The pain... - Mom, let me give you the morphine, OK?
- No, wait. - Let me just give you a shot.
Wait. You know what this is like, this pain?
This is like when you were born.
It sounds crazy, I know,
but that's exactly what it's like.
It was that bad?
Terrible.
Oh!
You just didn't wanna come out.
Oh!
I didn't think I'd live through it.
Now you know...
why I love you so much.
So much.
Mom?
The pain's going away.
That's good. That's good.
Are you still holding my hand?
Yes, I am.
Good, honey.
Don't let go.
- What? - It's Allagash. I'm at a party.
- Your presence is requested. - My brother's here, Tad. I can't go.
Amanda's here.
- Where is it? - Two Staple Street.
I'll be there.
Michael, I'm going out.
Jamie!
Taxi!
Barbara?
Where's Allagash?
- I think he's somewhere over there. - Thanks.
Allagash.
- Where is she? - Easy, Jamie. You look ready to detonate.
- Whose party is this? - The heir to some fast-food fortune.
- Jamie, I'd like you to meet Stevie. - D'you wanna dance?
Maybe later. Where is she?
Who? Your formerly deceased, not yet ex-wife?
Right.
Let me tell you something. She didn't come alone.
She's got a new friend. Some famous French photographer.
She's telling everybody he's gonna make her a star.
Hi.
So... how's it going?
"How's it going?"
Yeah.
"How's it going?"
Oh, fine. How's it going?
Oh, fuck!
Come on.
- Stevie, can you get a glass of water? - Here, take my drink.
It's OK. It's OK.
- He got blood on that column. - Out of the way. He's an epileptic.
I am not.
He's an emotional quadriplegic.
"How's it going?"
I need some help.
Whatever that is.
I can't straighten everything out all in one night.
- Hello? - Vicky.
Sorry for calling so late, or so early, whatever it is. What is it?
- Who is this? - It's Jamie.
Oh, Jamie. What time is it?
It's late. I'm in New York.
- I just wanted to talk. - You're with Tad?
Yeah, I was with Tad. Tad's around here someplace.
- Is something wrong? - I wanted to tell you that my mom died.
Oh, God. I'm sorry.
- When? - A year ago.
I didn't tell you before, so I just wanted to tell you now. It seemed important.
I'm sorry.
I tried to block her out of my mind, but I think I owe it to her to remember.
And I was thinking tonight, when she found out that she had cancer,
she was talking to Michael and me.
- Michael? - My brother.
She said if the pain became unbearable, she wanted us to help her...
you know, end it all.
But she... We had this prescription for morphine, so there was this option.
So, anyway, the pain got real bad and I asked her and she said...
She said that when you're dying, you have a responsibility to the living.
I was amazed that she said that, you know?
The way that she felt.
I was thinking that we have a responsibility to the dead.
The living, I mean. God, does any of this make any sense?
Yeah, maybe. I can't tell now, Jamie.
Can I call you back later today or tomorrow or whatever it is?
Yeah, call me. Please call me whenever. Are you sure you're all right?
My brain's trying to find a way out of its skull.
And I'm afraid of just about everything.
But I'm OK.
- Get some sleep, OK? - I will.
- Call me if you can't. - Thanks, Vicky.
Good night.
Hey, coach!
Where are you going? Come on, Inge just got here. I want you to meet her.
You can't take off now. Things are getting good.
You know, Allagash, I just realised something.
- What's that? - You and Amanda...
would make a terrific couple.
Hey. Hey!
# Bright lights
# Big city
# Went to my baby's head
# Bright lights
# Big city
# Went to my baby's head
# I tried to tell the woman
# But she don't believe a word I said
# Oh-oh-oh
- Bread. - What was your first clue?
Can I have some? Just a roll or something?
Get outta here.
I'll trade you my sunglasses.
# Bright lights
# Big city
# Went to my baby's head
# I tried to tell the woman
# But she don't believe a word I said
It's 6am on the island of Manhattan.
In the dawn's light, you can imagine the first ship from the Old Worid
sailing slowly up the biggest river they had ever seen.
That was how you felt, the first time you saw the city from a Greyhound window,
like you were looking at a new worid waiting to be discovered.
And that's how it looks to you now.
But you have to go slowly. You'll have to learn everything all over again.
# Those trucks in the street
# Is it really Monday?
# Time to find some trouble again
# Make a bid for romance
# While the dollar stands a chance
# Come love in the city at century's end
# We talked to this blonde
# Dancing on a mirror
# There's no disbelief to suspend
# It's the dance, it's the dress
# She's a concept more or less
# Come love in the city at century's end
# Nobody's holding out for heaven
# It's not for creatures here below
# We just suit up for a game
# The name of which we used to know
# It might be careless rapture
# This kid's got the eye
# Call it pirate radar
# Scoping out the room for some trend
# But there's nobody new
# So she zeroes in on you
# Come love in the city at century's end
# Nobody's holding out for heaven
# It's not for creatures here below
# We just suit up for a game
# The name of which we used to know
# By now, it's second nature
# Scratch the cab
# We can grab the local
# Let's get to the love scene, my friend
# Which means look, maybe touch
# But beyond that, not too much
# Come love in the city at century's end
# Come love in the city...