What follows is a true story. Despite my best efforts, I could not prevent it.
After lunch, my friend Joe wanted to stop by ABC Agency's office in Miami. I'd given up trying to convince him it wasn't how a professional writer goes about seeking representation.
"None of that other shit works," Joe said. "Sometimes you gotta walk in and say, 'Hey, I'm here.' Who gives a fuck?"
Joe's always been a delicate flower.
He was dressed in a fine white linen suit when I dropped him off in front of the building.
"You're not coming in with me?" he asked.
"I want no part of this," I said. And I didn't want them knowing who I was.
"Suit yourself Buddy," said Joe. "You gonna find a place to park?"
"I'm gonna drive around the block one time," I said. "You should be back by then."
I drove around the block two times. Joe was waiting at the curb.
"I got off the elevator and there was no one there," Joe explained. "There was a phone, an empty desk. Nobody. I tried opening a couple doors but they were all locked. I really tried, Buddy."
"Oh well," I said. "I didn't think
"Then I heard a toilet flush, so I went into the restroom."
"You did what?"
"That door was locked too. I had to force my way in."
"To the men's room?"
He nodded.
"There was a guy standing there
"He was standing? Not sitting?" I asked.
"Yeah, but you know, he was...So I said, 'Are you with ABC Agency?' and the guy said 'yeah.' He's probably thinking, 'Who the fuck is this motherfucker?' but he said 'How'd you get in here?' I told him 'I just walked in,' and then I said 'I'm a writer and I'm looking for representation. I wrote a memoir about Vietnam and a novel about the hunt for terrorists." Joe started laughing pretty hard. "The motherfucker asked if I was special ops, so I said, 'Yeah, now who can I give this manuscript to?'"
I, of course, pictured this poor schlep with his pants around his ankles, cowering as the big burly wierdo accosted him.
"Well," I said. "Sorry you wasted your time."
"Yeah, fuck you Buddy," Joe said, tossing the guy's business card in my face. "I'm gonna email him tonight. He said he'd read it and forward it to the right people in New York."
Success? Stay tuned...
3 comments:
Very interesting approach.
To be fair, if a guy forced his way into the toilets (which apparently he shouldn't have been able to do)at my office, announced he was special ops then demanded to know who he gave his manuscript to, I'd probably claim Janet Reid was a personal friend and that I'd just love to share the manuscript with her.
But then, I'm a wimp.
HAHAHAHA! I love this story. Keep us posted!
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