"Hey, you're ..."
The man raised his head slowly, meeting the eyes a tourist dressed as a tourist: white top with the words "I love NY", crushed red shorts, short socks, Nike runners. And sunglasses to take up long hair and dark. Up a book, which seemed a city guide. Holding the bag on his shoulder too large, the edges came out a couple of EXERCISE, not even waiting for the bell was in high school.
How long was watching? He had no idea. He was fixed on her red cocktail, dark color correct campari nonsoquale aromatic liquid. And vodka. The world stopped. Or rather, of course. But not for him. He was down for a moment. He and his cocktail.
"You are ..."
"No, look, you got the wrong person."
Yes, of course. The answer-standard when it felt like it. Or when they were not official meetings with the fans. Then there had to smile, contract, and embrace those who wanted to be photographed. And pretend to pour a cup of coffee, as in the show, for the benefit of local newspapers in search of a paragraph in the page for easy entertainment. And it was impossible not to notice the disappointed faces, with that shadow in his eyes, saying, because he and not Joe? Phoebe O-that-was-so-funny? Even when the presenter gilding the lily: "Critics have called it the seventh friend ...". Useless. The six friends were. And people wanted them. He was low budget for the evenings.
The girl went in teams.
"No, it's impossible. Hair, as it was then. And how short that time. And those eyes ... "
"But how is this?" He thought, feeling her eyes on him like an X-ray machine.
"You are ... you are ... "
Here's proof: they would remember the name? If he had pronounced the name, maybe he would not listen. If he had remembered his real name and not that of the character, perhaps he even offered a drink.
"You are the bartender's Friends!"
is, in fact. Not if I had remembered. If you remembered him in a very few. But only die-hard followers. And it's not him. The show. And then those party fans, because the name occasionally appeared on posters and on calls. The name of the character. And underneath, in small, real name. James Michael Tyler. That does not say anything to anyone. Might as well go back to look at the cocktails. Indeed, to drink it.
"I sit down? Do you mind if I sit? "Cursed
free table, empty, lonely, excluding the corner occupied by his elbows, his stained glass and the napkin the waiter had placed below. And then wondered what to do? He was already seated ...
"What can I say to convince you that not him?" Said a strange voice, hard, after a sip of vodka and campari drink too fast, he had burned his throat.
She Scartabelli inside the bag. "See? I knew that I would use this guide. And 'the latest edition, updated every two years, because fashions change, and even the locals. But I could not come to New York without seeing even a celebrity
"driving?" He said, regretting a second after giving her rope.
She stopped rummaging and proudly showed it to him. "This."
He read the cover, on which there was a drawing of a Statue of Liberty surrounded by paparazzi. "New York in search of celebrities: the complete guide" was the title. Stifled a chuckle. Celebrities ... happy her ...
"You see?" She nervously flipped through the book. And when he found what he sought, waved it in front of him, so quickly that it was impossible to read. "On this page is the name of the Bickley's. It underlined in red. He said that is a secret haven for actors and writers. But do not rush hour. And he was right. "
Bickley's. Neither had noticed the name of the bar. It was just as little shabby among those closest to her hotel. He looked around. The four-thirty in the afternoon, for him the time between the last test at the theater and the appointment before the show. He saw a broker with his tie undone and a whiskey, a sign of a bad day on the exchange. Then two Puerto Ricans, probably idle for a cleaning company, the newspaper of racing. And three tourists who were passing the camera with the views of Manhattan has just taken, and glasses of cola on ice in mid-table. Finally, the bartender wiping glasses. No writers. Neither actors. Apart from him, of course.
"But now you do me a dedication?". The girl had put the book away. And the bag had drawn a ring EXERCISE. "You know, I'm here in New York to see what I've seen only on TV. And to see who I saw only on TV. You are the first ... "He looked
turn the pages, full of photos and clippings stuck like a teenager. He decided that if there was a page for him, he would offer her a drink. But he knew that would have spared her four dollars.
"Look, do me a dedication here?"
looked at the page. "Friends" was written with blue marker, above a photo of six friends hugging and smiling, probabilemnte downloaded and printed from the Internet. Ross next to Rachel, of course. He grimaced.
"There are, in this picture."
"It does not matter. You were there, you were with them. " She was twirling a pen in front of the face. It looked like a sword fighter ready to stab her rival.
He took the pen. Now that he had seen the photo and the photo that he had seen her, she just wanted him to go away quickly.
"Your name?"
"Oh sorry," she said, beating a handful on the table, awkward as a teenager in emotional storm. "Sorry, that rude, I have not been filed. I'm Mary. Mary from Saint Marys, Canada. Is not it funny? Mary from Saint Marys. Think if you were born in Maryland. " And he laughed.
He smiled and shook her hand. "Nice ..." Then he stopped. Tell her that name? Her? What the show? Obvious choice, she knows only the latter. Indeed, even that. Damn short blond hair, blue eyes bloody, bloody scene that involved over there, as essential as the shelf of cups of coffee, watching Rachel adoring. Here's something that's hard work: look adoringly ...
"Nice, Gunther."
"Guuuunther. Here's how it was called the bartender at Central Perk. But you called so in real life? It would be funny. More of Mary Saint Marys, to be honest. But there really is the Central Perk? ".
"No, my name is Gunther also in life. And there is no Central Perk ".
"was written in the guide, which did not exist. There is a page dedicated to Friends, you know? Is the address of the building that was the scene, though. It is written that the actors are rarely of Friends in New York. But what everybody knows. Jennifer Aniston is a ho-lli-wood, wow ... "
He remained with the pen in the air, watching the tourists depart heavy hair from her shoulder as they dive into the stereotypes of the cabaret shows, in nerds hotel in Las Vegas. Now he really wanted him to go away quickly. Complete the formula: "friend of Friends, with affection Gunther" and returned the pen and notebook, hoping it would be happy.
But she did not get up. He seemed absorbed some thought. "Jennifer Aniston ... that is Rachel. But it was really the best friend of Monica, in real life? And you were not in love with her? In the show, I mean ... Right! Right! I remember we tried and she did not even look at you. It was like that? "
drank. And that seemed extra-strong cocktails poured directly on a wound.
"I've never really tried," he said Dry, closing EXERCISE not see the picture even more. "Not until the last episode."
"I saw, I saw it. And you remember correctly. In the last episode she runs to the airport. And Ross goes to get. And then put them together. You not to blame, that is not involved, namely ...".
He sighed. He drank until the last drop her cocktail, then took a breath. And, in one breath, declaimed: "Rachel, I know you will leave tonight. But first let me tell you ... I love you. Now, I do not think this will change your plans, but I thought you should know. "
She looked at him, dumbfounded. Surprise and admiration, as if the declaration of love had been for her. Maybe he was thinking of when he would tell her friends at Saint Marys Friends of an actor had played a joke on the show just for her.
Then the actor sets the exaggerated falsetto voice, that who takes the piss. It went on: "Gunther ... Oh, I love you too. Well, probably not in the way you mean. But I love you. And every time that I will be a bar to drink coffee, and every time I see a man with a hair lighter than the sun, think of you. "
She was still amazed. Admired? Surprised? Concerned about the reaction of a madman? He did not know decipher.
He stared into her eyes: "You see? You remember wrong. This is the bar I say to Rachel last episode. It 's the best joke I've ever played. You know why? Not acting. No, not even recited a bit '. I was in love with her. Rachel, Jennifer, of Jen, call it what you like. Flirty. And rejected. Or rather, never taken into account. I looked, the admired, desired her. And you anything. At best, a greeting, a smile, a joke at parties at the end of the series, when we were all together. But I never managed to enter his life. Never. As the show. I've even sent a message when he dumped Brad. And you anything. I did not want to take advantage of, you know? When you love a person, can not make you happy, at least hope that she is happy. But she did not even reply. Not even one time. "
He paused. He grabbed his glass of cocktail and took it to his lips. But there was not even a drop. He felt the shame of the act that had to be hard turned into a clumsy skit. But he never stopped talking.
"You know why my character was successful? Because it was all true. I had to pretend not to look with sad eyes. They were my eyes. Have you ever been in love with someone who does not even look at you? Did it ever happen? Have you ever had to beg a smile because you know that most of you would not have been granted, and when that smile came, the day was a good day? Have you ever satisfied with the crumbs? Eh? Tell me, did you ever satisfied with the crumbs? "
He raised his voice. The tourists and the bartender had turned toward his table. Oh no, there would be Failure just another onslaught of autograph hunters.
"You ... Now ... now you're married. You'll be happy now. " Mary had taken her hand, the one with the ring. His eyes were shiny. Maybe he thought he was in a show, and like her, who goes around with the guide in search of fame, wants nothing more.
"You know why I have got Friends? Casting was the only one who knew how to handle a coffee machine. And I had to pay for my college made the bartender. I have not been chosen because I was good, because I was special. Just because I could make coffee. And then I looked at him, blond, blue eyes, face serious. Ok, let's call Gunther, they said. And let's make a German silent. Life is a game of dice. You can bet on numbers that you hope will come out. But as always decide the nuts. I do not even know how I am. If you are Gunther and James. They decided the nuts. And they decided that I should be happy. "
is a little ashamed of what he had just said at home in California, was waiting for his wife, and often had some role in the theater. In the dimness of the stage no one thought he was not credible because it was the same as the bartender of Friends who had been ten years in a TV behind the bar to tap coffee. And sometimes even called him for some small part to the movies.
"Not as I hoped, at least" he corrected himself. He raised his eyes toward the girl. She was still looking. He had not even realized that he never left his hand, that was only because he had grabbed the ring. She hinted at a smile, a little bitter but at least 'more relaxed. "Want a drink?"
She shook her head and with his free hand he took a napkin and wiped what looked like a tear. Then he took another napkin and scribbled over an address and a number: "I'm in this hotel, if you want to call me tonight ..."
"I can not tonight. I have the show at the theater. I will invite you, if there were any celebrities. And you present and I'd sign a lot of dedications. But it is an independent company, Off Broadway, an experimental project of almost unknown actors. I do also the director ...".
"Call me. If you want to call me, "said Mary Saint Mary's, rising quickly from his chair and tripped away. "Thanks." From his desk in the shadows, he could have sworn he was sobbing. But maybe it was just all that vodka in campari.
(SerialLicker also says here )
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