The scene was this: I sat in a diner with Flynn two weeks ago, discussing the merits of the Lord Of The Rings Special Edition DVD. When about three tables away, a young lady began to pound the table and moan in ecstasy.
“Zing, Flynn. We’ve been zinged,” I said.
“What?” asked Flynn.
“That young lady, she’s reenacting the famed ‘Orgasm Scene’ from When Harry Met Sally.”
“What, the one at Katz’s deli where Meg Ryan fakes an orgasm in public?”
“Indeed… indeed.”
“Oh. OK. Well. I don’t see how she’s really zinged us. Anyway. You get extra scenes in the movie, yes, but the documentaries, that’s what’s amazing. There’s two hours just about the process of storyboarding, there’s–”
“Oh, God, Flynn. Dear God, no.”
“Yeah, seriously, two hours. Crazy, right?”
“She’s… she’s losing steam. She was doing her moaning and pounding quite audibly, and now, before reaching a full fake ‘climax’ and completing the reference, she’s trailing off.”
“Oh. But isn’t that amazing? Two hours about the storyboard?”
“God damn it, Flynn! This is the kind of thing that just really GETS to me! A dream is DYING, Flynn! And we sit idly by and watch it happen!”
“I mean, can you imagine how much time they spend analyzing the movie itself?”
“Well, not me, Flynn! She needs to know that we all ‘get’ her reference! She needs to know that her fake orgasm has not fallen upon deaf ears! I will let her know that we all ‘get’ it, Flynn, in the only way I know how, I will say loudly the next line in the movie!”
“Well, I’ll tell you how long they spend analyzing the movie itself: OVER thirty HOURS.”
I rose from my seat, looked toward the nearest waiter, pointed at the young lady, and pronounced, “I’ll have…what she’s having!”
“Hey. Man. Sit down. So…yeah, thirty hours. I mean, now, that’s if you count all the commentaries tracks and stuff. Of which there are FOUR.”
Then I turned to the aforementioned girl, doffed a pantomime cap, and said, “Young lady, we all ‘got’ your brilliant reference, every last one of us. You were reenacting the ‘Orgasm Scene’ from When Harry Met Sally…and you’re a winner.”
I then produced one of the many copies of the When Harry Met Sally DVD that I keep with me at all times, signed it, and presented her with it.
“Oh. Thank you,” she said. “Were you at all involved with the making of the movie?”
“Ha,” I laughed. “No. No, I wasn’t, young lady. But thanks for asking, and remember… you: winner.”
Then we paid the check and left. Or rather were asked to leave by a waiter. I like that. I like a waiter who gets involved.
As we strolled down 57th Street, I couldn’t help but feel we’d accomplished something that night, Flynn and I. I put my arm around him and said, “We’re doing OK, old friend. We’re doing just fine.”
“Yeah, I guess. Could you not have your arm around me? Jesus, I wish you wouldn’t freak out on me like that back there. Or at least, when you do, will you write it up into a Thought so we can get the site up to date?”
“That’s not a bad idea you have there. I will write this into a Thought!”
“Yeah, whatever, I’ll believe it when I see it. Anyway, wanna watch the storyboarding documentary? It’s got some cool shit in it.”
“Zing, Flynn. Wow, have you ever zinged me.”
“Yeah. See, but I don’t think I really did though.”
“Zing, again! My man: you are on a ROLL!”
“(sigh)”
And we walked the rest of the way home in silence. Oh Flynn! What a guy! He seems to sigh like that a lot these days.