down-to-earth-formerly-of-Long-Island-larger-than-life-character. She is a Broadway star who would go out after a show with her childhood friends and their acting friends and everyone could fit right in. A couple of times her boyfriend, Matt, would meet us. He was a cinematographer and I think they’ve been married for over twenty years now. And I don’t care what Oliver Stone (who eventually dropped the project) or Alan Parker, who would direct the film with Madonna in the lead role, think but Patti Lupone will always be Evita to me.
Hello, Jerry Seinfeld
I n the mid-nineties, I had a job working in bookstore, a Brentano’s, in the Beverly Center, in Los Angeles. This was a different kind of gig than what I was used to in the restaurant/hotel business. First off, it was part-time, for very little pay, but on the other hand as a reader, it was one of the most interesting jobs I’ve held. It was interesting just learning about books and spending time reading the back covers -- making a list of books I planned to get around to reading.
Another difference was that it was the first job I worked at that I didn’t have to wear a uniform. At first, it was very freeing -- be able to wear what I wanted to wear but after a few weeks it got to be such a drag trying to find something that would look good with my large Brentano’s badge, that said “Hi, I’m Bill -- ask me how I may help you.”
I think it’s a man-thing, I remember my father, who worked in the insurance industry, wore the same suit for thirty years which also made it easier to decide. My sister claims that somewhere in the eighties my mother made him get a new one, but I never noticed the difference (another man-thing). Eventually, I chose a pair of black Dockers, three different shirts and a pair of shoes to be the three sets of clothes that I wore at my three shifts, weekly.
One day, while I was working the cash register at the check-out counter, Jerry Seinfeld stepped up to buy a magazine. It wasn’t easy to recognize Jerry, because he was wearing a Yankees baseball cap, pulled way down low on his head. Naturally, I’m a big fan of Seinfeld , the television show -- “ Have you ever noticed those performers who feel that don’t have to do the comedy gags with every single person they run in to, even though those same gags are what made them famous?” The amount of hours I spent watching your little television show about “nothing” -- of course you owe us.
Since I am a long time member of Red Sox Nation, I was disappointed in the cap (Did your friend George, get you the cap? What would your friend, Keith Hernandez, say?) That’s probably why I decided that I had to do a bit with him. As Jerry stepped up to hand me his magazine, teenage girlfriend at his side, I glared at him and said, “Hello, Jerry…”
Seinfeld looked at me puzzled, it looked like he was trying to figure out if he actually knew me… or maybe he had been through this many times before. I’m not sure of which, but he just stared. Nodding my head, I tried to indicate my name badge on my chest. But Jerry still hesitated.
“Hello, Jerry…” I repeated and continued to nod in the direction of my badge but still nothing. I’ve always heard that Jerry was very sharp but he seemed to be a bit slow on the under-hand pitch I was tossing him. Once again, I gave him a “Hello, Jerry…” in my best Newman imitation.
Jerry stared, lost and confused, and finally looked over at his girlfriend, who gave him a sweet, “ you always wanted to be in this business, ” smile. Finally, Jerry turned his attention to me and said, “Hello…. bookstore guy. ” He pushed his magazine and some money at me. I took it, disappointed. Was a “Hello, Bill,” too much to ask? Was it that hard to pick up on? Come on, this guy worked with Michael Richards and Jerry Stiller on a daily basis -- whatever happened to good ol’ improvisation? Isn’t that what his pal, Larry David does, instead of
Hello, Jerry Seinfeld
I n the mid-nineties, I had a job working in bookstore, a Brentano’s, in the Beverly Center, in Los Angeles. This was a different kind of gig than what I was used to in the restaurant/hotel business. First off, it was part-time, for very little pay, but on the other hand as a reader, it was one of the most interesting jobs I’ve held. It was interesting just learning about books and spending time reading the back covers -- making a list of books I planned to get around to reading.
Another difference was that it was the first job I worked at that I didn’t have to wear a uniform. At first, it was very freeing -- be able to wear what I wanted to wear but after a few weeks it got to be such a drag trying to find something that would look good with my large Brentano’s badge, that said “Hi, I’m Bill -- ask me how I may help you.”
I think it’s a man-thing, I remember my father, who worked in the insurance industry, wore the same suit for thirty years which also made it easier to decide. My sister claims that somewhere in the eighties my mother made him get a new one, but I never noticed the difference (another man-thing). Eventually, I chose a pair of black Dockers, three different shirts and a pair of shoes to be the three sets of clothes that I wore at my three shifts, weekly.
One day, while I was working the cash register at the check-out counter, Jerry Seinfeld stepped up to buy a magazine. It wasn’t easy to recognize Jerry, because he was wearing a Yankees baseball cap, pulled way down low on his head. Naturally, I’m a big fan of Seinfeld , the television show -- “ Have you ever noticed those performers who feel that don’t have to do the comedy gags with every single person they run in to, even though those same gags are what made them famous?” The amount of hours I spent watching your little television show about “nothing” -- of course you owe us.
Since I am a long time member of Red Sox Nation, I was disappointed in the cap (Did your friend George, get you the cap? What would your friend, Keith Hernandez, say?) That’s probably why I decided that I had to do a bit with him. As Jerry stepped up to hand me his magazine, teenage girlfriend at his side, I glared at him and said, “Hello, Jerry…”
Seinfeld looked at me puzzled, it looked like he was trying to figure out if he actually knew me… or maybe he had been through this many times before. I’m not sure of which, but he just stared. Nodding my head, I tried to indicate my name badge on my chest. But Jerry still hesitated.
“Hello, Jerry…” I repeated and continued to nod in the direction of my badge but still nothing. I’ve always heard that Jerry was very sharp but he seemed to be a bit slow on the under-hand pitch I was tossing him. Once again, I gave him a “Hello, Jerry…” in my best Newman imitation.
Jerry stared, lost and confused, and finally looked over at his girlfriend, who gave him a sweet, “ you always wanted to be in this business, ” smile. Finally, Jerry turned his attention to me and said, “Hello…. bookstore guy. ” He pushed his magazine and some money at me. I took it, disappointed. Was a “Hello, Bill,” too much to ask? Was it that hard to pick up on? Come on, this guy worked with Michael Richards and Jerry Stiller on a daily basis -- whatever happened to good ol’ improvisation? Isn’t that what his pal, Larry David does, instead of
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