“The Stupidest Conversation Since Time Began”

Underwater, this is the cathedral
sea. Diving, our bubbles rise
as prayers are said to do, and burst
into our natural atmosphere—
occupying, from this perspective,
the position of a heaven.

“Underwater”
Michael Schmidt

“Oceanic White Tip,” Oil on canvas
Paul Browne

“Bob Pearl, the president of Pearl Films, wants to meet with me,” I said. “He told me to bring my team. I don’t have a team. I have to bring somebody. One of you has to pretend to be my team.”

“I’d love to,” Jason said, “but I’ve got an assignment this afternoon. I can’t drop out. If I drop out my agency will drop me. Judy will have to go.”

I looked at Judy. “You have to come along and pretend to be my team.”

“I can’t,” Judy said. Her eyes were wide. She was looking back and forth from Jason to me so quickly that I was afraid she was going to hurt her neck.

“Judy,” I said, “you’re smart and you’re beautiful. All you have to do is sit there, silently. You can look angry if you want, or maybe just distant. Whatever. If anyone says anything to you, just look at me and I’ll deal with it.”

“I can’t,” Judy said, again. She stopped looking at Jason and stared at me. Somehow, her eyes got even wider. “I can’t meet the president of a movie studio,” she said. She was almost crying. “I can’t meet studio executives. What if— You know— What if— What if they want sex?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” I said, “we’re going to be talking about developing a script. A monster movie about scientists and sharks and dinosaurs, for Christ’s sake. They’re not going to be talking about sex. It’s a business meeting.”

Jason started laughing.

Judy ran her fingers through her hair. “I can’t talk about sex,” she said. “I get nervous. I’ll throw up. I can’t have sex in a meeting room. I can’t have sex in a meeting room with all those people there. I just can’t.”

“Nobody’s going to be talking about sex,” I said. “And nobody’s going to be having sex! They want to talk about a script. It’s like a story conference. Pearl took his studio private so he’s financing a lot of low budget stuff from independents. It’s a business meeting.”

Judy stepped toward me and jabbed a finger at my chest. “It’s the movie business! The movie business! What if someone asks me for a— What if someone asks me for a blow job? What if someone wants— Oh, Christ! I’ve heard about that Kardashian stuff. The Blake Lively stuff. I won’t do it. I won’t. No, no, no. What if someone wants to— You know— No, no, no. What if someone wants to piss on me?” Judy was crying now. “I don’t want anyone to piss on me! I won’t do it.”

Jason was laughing so hard that he let himself fall out of his chair. He continued laughing on the carpet.

“Judy, are you insane?” I asked. “What the hell are you talking about? He wants to talk to me about writing a monster movie. You just have to look like my assistant. Just sit next to me. Maybe pretend to take notes. You won’t even have to talk.”

“I am not giving anyone a blow job,” Judy said. “I just won’t do it. No.”

I said, “This is the stupidest conversation since time began.”

“Listen you sons of bitches,” Judy yelled, looking from me to Jason on the carpet, “I’ve just never done that, okay? It doesn’t mean I’m a virgin. And it doesn’t mean I’m some kind of small town hick. I’ve just never actually, you know, done that, you know, the oral sex thing.”

Jason screamed and continued laughing, pulling himself into a kind of fetal position, holding his thighs against his chest and laughing as he banged his forehead against his knees.

“Oh my God,” I said. “Judy, this is a business meeting. You are going to pretend to be my assistant. They probably won’t even look at you, let alone talk to you. They just expect me to have, you know, my ‘people’ with me. I promise I’ll do all the talking. Nobody is even going to mention sex. It’s a business meeting.”

Judy’s eyes narrowed. She stepped even closer to me and grabbed my shirt in both her hands and pulled me so close to her that for a second I had the freaky thought that she was going to bite my nose.

“Do you promise,” Judy said, “there won’t be any sex? I mean do you swear there won’t be any sex? I’m saying are you giving me a fucking blood oath nobody is going to expect me to have sex?”

“Yes, yes, yes” I said. “Nobody is going to have sex with anybody. Nobody is going to expect you to have sex. It’s a business meeting. About a script. A monster movie. I swear.”

“Okay,” Judy said. “I’ll do it.”

“Good,” I said. “The meeting’s this afternoon, downtown, just north of the river.”

“We’ve got to stop at my apartment,” Judy said. “I want to put on a shorter skirt.”

Jason screamed again and rolled under my desk laughing.

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A Scene From “The Big Screen Girl”



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I first saw that beautiful shark painting last week at a scuba diving site I sometimes look in on. But, although the scuba site used the image, they didn’t credit the image anywhere I could see. Very bad blog etiquette.

So I used a reverse-search engine geared toward images called TinEye.

TinEye tracked down the image to the painter’s website.

Really great stuff. Such beautiful images. I really admire people who can create such wonderful art. I shudder thinking about what a tough time they must have in the modern world, but, still, I admire them for developing their skills and creating the great art.