but you don’t even press your own clothes
GARAGE-TURNED-BEDROOM, AT SUNSET.
Long shot of room. Greg sits at desk reading, as Lisa enters through side door with copy of Valley by Mike Daily in hand.
Greg, is this book yours?
Oh, there it is. This is the book I’m working on a review of.
Is it “Review of … ” or “Review for … ?”
Don’t ask me, I’m no editor. I can’t even find a job.
LISA tosses book over to GREG at desk. In doing so, a small piece of newspaper print falls from the book and flutters out onto carpet. LISA picks it up.
Here’s your bookmark. Wait–this is a clipping from the employment classifieds. It says “Dry cleaning. Experienced presser needed full-time. Bilingual preferred.” But Greg, why would you want to work there, you don’t even press your own clothes. And all I’ve ever heard you say in any other language is, “Oui, j’aime le pamplemousse.”*
Well, that’s all I remember from high school French class. Pamplemousse is some kind of fruit. I like fruit. And those Banana Republic pants I got in NYC will need pressing. If I ever get a chance to wear them.
LISA turns bookmark over.
This side makes more sense. Now I see why you have this. “EDITORIAL. Researcher needed for busy weekly journal. Required: journalism exp., detail oriented, computer literate, good writing abilities. Send resume, salary req.” Now this sounds like the kind of job that would demand pressed Banana Republic pants. Get that book review done and maybe you’ll have something to send them.
Funny what subjects end up back-to-back when you alphabetize them. You could have grabbed another editorial job clipping of mine and thought I was looking to become a financial consultant. Connecting random items using any means possible is an interesting exercise.
Except, why would you want to review other people’s finances if you’ve got no money yourself, Jobless?
That’s not the point. But now I’ve got an idea for a review for this book.
A review of this book.
the final picture
dot up a page at
then connect using
*Yes, I like grapefruit.