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Everything Jake #1015: Two Conversations and an Exit The Prelude to Senior Year By Mike Rosenzweig Conversation One: Noah Goodman  Jake: Hey Noah, I’m over here, what’s up? Noah: Jake, how’s it going, why’d you pick this place? Jake: You don’t like it? Noah: It’s not so bad, it’s just, outside eating, not a fan. Jake: I could ask for a table inside? Noah: I’ll deal. Jake: Thanks again for meeting me here… Noah: No problem, even though I did have to clear up a date with three supermodels. Jake: I’m sure they’ll understand. Noah: Oh, no, they’re waiting for me back in my room. Jake: As you know, I’m going to be going back to New York in two days… Noah: I know, that’s why I meetcha. Who knows when I’m going to see the guy who was partially responsible for my non-enjoyment of high school. Jake: Aw, come on, it wasn’t that bad. Noah: I know, I’m here, right? What’s on your mind, Jake? Jake: That story I told you about the last time we spoke? That auto-biography? I’m done, and I want you to read it for me. Noah: Sure. E-mail it on over— Jake: I have it here. Noah: You want me to read it, now? Jake: If that’s okay with you. Noah: Um… yeah, I guess… Jake: I wrote so much of it I was just like, what am I even writing anymore? You know how it is, as a fellow writer… what? What’s that look for? Noah: I never considered you a writer until you told me you were, Jake, it’s a little weird for me, y’know. Jake: I… I can see that. But, I’m a LOT different than I was three years ago in high school, Noah, tell me you can’t see that? Noah: There is… something… different about you, Jake, but I just can’t put my finger on it. Jake: Read the story. Here. (Jake pulls out a stack four inches tall of mis-matched yellow legal pad paper and loose leaf, and plops it on the desk.) Jake: I told the waiter to give ya anything you want, on me. How long do you think it’ll take you? Noah: You’re not staying? Jake: Why would I stay? Noah: Um… Jake: It freaks me out when people read my stuff when I standing right next to them…. Noah: It’s not like a love letter, Jake, it’s a story. How are you gonna feel if you ever get a book published or anything like that? Jake: As long as I don’t have to see you reading it, I’m cool. Noah: Makes sense. I would say, come back in two hours. I read fast. Jake: It’s double sided. Noah: Two hours. Jake: My handwriting is very small— Noah: Jake, be back in two hours. But, one thing… Jake: Yes? Noah: You’re my friend, but this is business. I’m going to tell you what, if anything, is wrong about it and I’m not going to lie to you. Can you handle that? Jake: I’m hoping for that. That’s why I asked you and not Faith or my cousin. Noah: What’s your cousin’s name? Jake: Mitchell, why? Noah: Seen him around “town”, I’d guess you’d say. What’s he do? Jake: Retail, I think. Surfs a bit. Very lucky with the ladies. Noah: Seems like it. Jake: How about you, any ladies? Noah: I’m… let me read your little story, and then we’ll talk, okay? Jake: Okay. Noah: And why are you still here?    
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EVERYTHING JAKE is TM & (C) 2000-2011 by Mike Rosenzweig. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
