Do The Clothes Make The Man?
I found myself standing on the corner of Market and Main in Venice, California, wearing a wetsuit, quietly wondering what the hell, exactly, I had gotten myself into. I looked down at my bare feet and tried to shuffle away from the broken glass and sharp stones and broken asphalt and I knew that by virtue of me standing on this street corner, wearing this wetsuit, I was committing to something I wasn’t sure I wanted to get into.
An ad on Craigslist had peaked my interest - Will Trade Surf Lessons For Help Developing Screenplay - and it went on to list the logline (which is a dangerous proposition in this town.) But since my own writing career has failed to take off to date and I thought the general idea of this guys story was kind of funny and fit pretty well into a basic three act structure, I thought I would at least drop him a line and see what was what. After a couple of brief emails, a quick Google search and some phone calls, I realize that I had made arrangements to meet this guy, a total stranger, Sunday morning in Venice for my first surf lesson.
So the weekend rolls around and I do not want to go. I just want to sit on the sofa and watch the Lakers game, doing nothing, thinking vaguely about a screenplay I know I should be writing. But I also know that I made this arrangement for a reason, I made this arrangement because I know I shouldn’t spend my weekend sitting on the sofa watching basketball. I need to do something, I need to get something done. I know that I could have easily overlooked this ad, thought about it as being funny and done nothing about it. But I didnt. I responded and I made these plans and now this guy was expecting me to go through with this.
And I knew that I had to go through with this.
So here I am, standing on the corner of Market and Main, wearing a wetsuit that I havent put on for almost a year, trying to find a guy I have never met before who has promised to teach me how to surf no matter how long it takes.
And I have to believe that this will all work out in the end. That this will all mean something at some point.
An ad on Craigslist had peaked my interest - Will Trade Surf Lessons For Help Developing Screenplay - and it went on to list the logline (which is a dangerous proposition in this town.) But since my own writing career has failed to take off to date and I thought the general idea of this guys story was kind of funny and fit pretty well into a basic three act structure, I thought I would at least drop him a line and see what was what. After a couple of brief emails, a quick Google search and some phone calls, I realize that I had made arrangements to meet this guy, a total stranger, Sunday morning in Venice for my first surf lesson.
So the weekend rolls around and I do not want to go. I just want to sit on the sofa and watch the Lakers game, doing nothing, thinking vaguely about a screenplay I know I should be writing. But I also know that I made this arrangement for a reason, I made this arrangement because I know I shouldn’t spend my weekend sitting on the sofa watching basketball. I need to do something, I need to get something done. I know that I could have easily overlooked this ad, thought about it as being funny and done nothing about it. But I didnt. I responded and I made these plans and now this guy was expecting me to go through with this.
And I knew that I had to go through with this.
So here I am, standing on the corner of Market and Main, wearing a wetsuit that I havent put on for almost a year, trying to find a guy I have never met before who has promised to teach me how to surf no matter how long it takes.
And I have to believe that this will all work out in the end. That this will all mean something at some point.
posted by la.barabbas at 9:24 PM
1 Comments:
I heard surfer dude wears no shirt and a cowboy hat. At least that's the word form Kelvis...
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