Stranger than Fiction

February 7, 2008

My son, Jason, is a sometimes-employed actor and a frequently-employed bartender in New York City. He recently landed the prestigious role of Iago in a play to be produced in Virginia in a couple of months. Dutifully, he headed off to Barnes & Noble to purchase Othello and begin learning his lines. Rather than return home, he decided to begin studying at the store.

The only remaining seat was at a table occupied by a woman. Jason asked permission to share it. She told him to go right ahead.

In a few minutes, she asked if he would watch her possessions while she went to the rest room. He told her to go right ahead.

When she returned she asked why he was highlighting so many passages in the book. He explained he was an actor.

Her: “As an actor, do you learn about stage work, lighting, carpentry, and so on?”
Him: “Sure. It was was a requirement in school and critical in off-Broadway productions.”
Her: “Could you do that in someone’s house?”
Him: “Yes, I’m my sister’s handyman, for her condo, as a matter of fact.”
Her: “Would you mind looking at some work I’d like done and giving me an estimate?”

As Jason agrees and searches for his card, he asks what her profession is.

Her: “Oh, I’m a consultant.”
Him: “What kind of consultant?”
Her: “Management consultant.”
Him: “Have you ever heard of Alan Weiss?”
Her: “Alan Weiss?! Of course. He’s BIG, VERY BIG. I was able to hear him speak once in New York.”
Him: “You know you can buy some of his books downstairs here.”
Her: “I have a lot of them already.”
Him: “He’s my father.”
Her: “You’re KIDDING!”

Jason finds his card at last and hands it over as proof.

Her: “How soon can you come over?”