A Transitional Chapter
The eggs and bacon were a delicious meal; something that I didn’t think was possible with what I had stocked in my fridge. Kate and I continued to talk at the kitchen table for a little while longer before she finally put her clothes from last night back on and went off to work. I never did ask where she did work. As soon as she left I was slightly saddened, but I felt like going back to sleep a little while longer.
I don’t know how long I was out for. I was dreaming about the time at the bar the night before. My old friend John, a short Chinese guy for whom no matter ever seemed too serious was at the bar talking to Kate. I could swear I heard him tell her in this dream, “all you have to do is make him drink another between night and blue jeans will seem like the hottest piece of clothing he’s ever seen.” Kate then gave me a glass in the dream and before I could take another swig I was awoken.
“Joe! Wake up! I got a call from someone important!” Brian yelled at me.
“How the hell did you get in?” I groggily mumbled.
“Uh, you left it unlocked. Also, why do you look like you had the best night of your life last night?” Brian replied.
“You were right. It really was like a dream,” I smugly answered. “So what are you talking about?”
“You remember that spec script we just sent off to a bunch of producers? I got a call back and apparently one of them wants to meet us.”
“When did we ever write a script?” I asked then suddenly remembered an important detail with horror. “You mean that one we wrote when we were utterly pissed and lamenting my long record of failure with women. You mean you actually sent that in. What the fuck man? So when is this meeting?”
“Uh, 20 minutes,” Brian answered.
I suppose it’s an opportunity, but why does it seem as though my fate is being driven by other people?
