Thursday, September 3, 2009
You’ve never recalled a night you should have forgotten so well. I mean, let’s face it, you were blitzed out of your mind…drunk, slaughtered with booze. You were done, and yet the night remains clear. You're cruising around New York on a cool fall night in 1980, in the back a limo, with your billionaire buddy Arthur Bach and his driver Bitterman. On your way to possibly score with some ladies of the night, you notice a theater playing a Gerard Damiano double feature and you do what any drunken men on a 1980 evening would have done, you stop and buy tickets. Bitterman comes along and the three of you laugh hysterical through Deep Throat, and in your drunken stupor you all convince yourselves that Linda Lovelace is the great comic genius of the day. You’re all sobered up quickly though by the seriousness of The Devil in Miss Jones and after the movie the three of you stumble out of the theater into the chilly New York morning air. Shook up by the film, you bid Arthur and Bitterman a fond farewell and your adventure ends as you attempt to make your way back to your apartment.
The evening reminds you of another you spent several years earlier, more than five in fact in Los Angeles, with another drinking buddy Private eye Harry Moseby. Old Moseby had been feeling down and he was convinced his wife had been cheating on him, so attempting to catch her in the act he forced himself into a Rohmer picture, something he had sworn he had never do after proclaiming his films were like watching paint dry. The two of you sat in the back for My Night at Mauds, but Harry barely looked at the screen at all as he continually surveyed the crowd for his wife and her lover. You were quite caught up with the film though and you found yourself so moved afterwards that you had to walk home, leaving Harry alone with his already very private investigation.