Hoping this isn't a sign that I'm going to be kicked out of (i.e. not admitted to) Columbia*
2/23/2008
I'm a Ghostbuster. We're operating out of a double-decker Ectomobile (not unlike a very small Megabus on the inside). We've been called to an auto dealership (run by a man who acts and dresses like it's the '50's or early '60's and is fixated on the death of John F. Kennedy) to remove an evil ghost from the sewer system under his car lot.
It's so dark in the sewer that even when I shine my flashlight on things they're still gray and grainy. I know the ghost (who looks like a massive Grim Reaper) is down there with me somewhere and I don't know what he plans on doing but I think he'll probably kill any of us if he gets the chance. I'm getting progressively more scared and therefore less likely to get the ghost before he gets me.
I finally get out, but I'm worried there's another Ghostbuster still in there. I wait outside the sewer cover (cinematically framed in the dark, damp lot), seriously expecting to see a fountain of blood come out of the holes or something. Eventually I convince myself everyone else is safely inside the van. They are, and they've got the ghost. We return to the Ghostbusters' headquarters: a converted Little Caesar's (the roof is blue instead of orange and the ghost logo is there instead of Little Caesar) in a strip mall in a very small town in a Kansas-like state.
The next day I go into Egon**'s room (I compliment his music selection, the Aquabats, and he's really excited, because it's no later than 1993 and very few people have heard of the Aquabats) where he, Ray, and a blond female Ghostbuster who wasn't in the movies were talking about something. Since he is the least involved in the conversation, I ask Ray (who I mentally refer to as "Dan Aykroyd" throughout because I can't remember his real last name) if he'll help me clean my gun.
"Uh, no," he says, "you'll have to clean your own 35." (35 is apparently the term for the guns they are using these days.)
"I'm an actress," I whisper. "I am not a real Ghostbuster."
He either pretends not to listen or doesn't hear me. Apparently this is real life and not one of the movies.
I go for a walk outside in the parking lot. Nick pulls up in his Aerostar and we head across the parking lot to a diner for lunch. I tell him the rifle story.
"Was Dan Aykroyd even in the second movie?" he asks.
"I don't know," I say. "I think so. But in either case he looks kind of like you and you look kind of like Dan Aykroyd."
We enter the diner and for some reason the hostess and I have a conversation about how to clean a "35".
"Do you mean a 35mm rifle?" she says.
"Maybe? I'm not sure."
"You've shot a gun and you don't even know what it is?!" She is hugely offended by my poor judgment.
"Uh, I mean, I've never shot it at anyone," I lie.
"Oh! You shoot competitively? Hey, were you that girl at Albequerque last year--"
"Oh, no, I mean, I just, like, you know, go to the range and shoot at targets," I said.
She brings a bottle of weird flat things out from behind the podium/desk. Thinking she's handing it to me, I pick it up and look at it. They look more like Tums than ammunition.
"Um, I'm not sure... these don't look like the things the gun I have shoots--" I say, and as I go to hand it back to her I accidentally spill the whole bottle into an empty fishbowl on the desk.
She is furious. Apparently I have ruined the candy supply that keeps her going throughout the day.
I apologize, and add that I'm flying out tomorrow, but maybe I can stop and get her some candy before I leave?
"YOU ALL SAY THAT but no one ever does it!" she says. "They all go in to get the candy and end up going to a fancy restaurant instead."
"Are there any other restaurants in this town?" I ask.
She thinks about it. "No! Well then! I guess you will get the candy! There's nothing here but a general store!"
We shake on it and I go to find Nick, who has already seated himself at a four-person table. A guy who looks like Vlad Putin is sitting next to him and glaring at us.
"Why the hell did you pick a table where someone was already sitting?" I ask. He doesn't seem to think it was a big deal.
----
Epilogue?
At least 15 years later, I'm back in the parking lot outside the strip mall. It's seemingly completely abandoned now (though the Ghostbusters sign is still on the building where the HQ was and the mattress store next to it may or may not be preparing to reopen). Some Comic Book Guy-like fanboys (of the movie? the actual Ghostbusters?) have driven up to the mall and are taking pictures.
"It's so sad," one of them says.
----
*I didn't even remember that Columbia University had anything to do with this until I checked Wikipedia this morning
**Ostensibly because I had a hard time remembering what non-cartoon Egon looked like, he looked damn near exactly like C-------- K-------.
I'm a Ghostbuster. We're operating out of a double-decker Ectomobile (not unlike a very small Megabus on the inside). We've been called to an auto dealership (run by a man who acts and dresses like it's the '50's or early '60's and is fixated on the death of John F. Kennedy) to remove an evil ghost from the sewer system under his car lot.
It's so dark in the sewer that even when I shine my flashlight on things they're still gray and grainy. I know the ghost (who looks like a massive Grim Reaper) is down there with me somewhere and I don't know what he plans on doing but I think he'll probably kill any of us if he gets the chance. I'm getting progressively more scared and therefore less likely to get the ghost before he gets me.
I finally get out, but I'm worried there's another Ghostbuster still in there. I wait outside the sewer cover (cinematically framed in the dark, damp lot), seriously expecting to see a fountain of blood come out of the holes or something. Eventually I convince myself everyone else is safely inside the van. They are, and they've got the ghost. We return to the Ghostbusters' headquarters: a converted Little Caesar's (the roof is blue instead of orange and the ghost logo is there instead of Little Caesar) in a strip mall in a very small town in a Kansas-like state.
The next day I go into Egon**'s room (I compliment his music selection, the Aquabats, and he's really excited, because it's no later than 1993 and very few people have heard of the Aquabats) where he, Ray, and a blond female Ghostbuster who wasn't in the movies were talking about something. Since he is the least involved in the conversation, I ask Ray (who I mentally refer to as "Dan Aykroyd" throughout because I can't remember his real last name) if he'll help me clean my gun.
"Uh, no," he says, "you'll have to clean your own 35." (35 is apparently the term for the guns they are using these days.)
"I'm an actress," I whisper. "I am not a real Ghostbuster."
He either pretends not to listen or doesn't hear me. Apparently this is real life and not one of the movies.
I go for a walk outside in the parking lot. Nick pulls up in his Aerostar and we head across the parking lot to a diner for lunch. I tell him the rifle story.
"Was Dan Aykroyd even in the second movie?" he asks.
"I don't know," I say. "I think so. But in either case he looks kind of like you and you look kind of like Dan Aykroyd."
We enter the diner and for some reason the hostess and I have a conversation about how to clean a "35".
"Do you mean a 35mm rifle?" she says.
"Maybe? I'm not sure."
"You've shot a gun and you don't even know what it is?!" She is hugely offended by my poor judgment.
"Uh, I mean, I've never shot it at anyone," I lie.
"Oh! You shoot competitively? Hey, were you that girl at Albequerque last year--"
"Oh, no, I mean, I just, like, you know, go to the range and shoot at targets," I said.
She brings a bottle of weird flat things out from behind the podium/desk. Thinking she's handing it to me, I pick it up and look at it. They look more like Tums than ammunition.
"Um, I'm not sure... these don't look like the things the gun I have shoots--" I say, and as I go to hand it back to her I accidentally spill the whole bottle into an empty fishbowl on the desk.
She is furious. Apparently I have ruined the candy supply that keeps her going throughout the day.
I apologize, and add that I'm flying out tomorrow, but maybe I can stop and get her some candy before I leave?
"YOU ALL SAY THAT but no one ever does it!" she says. "They all go in to get the candy and end up going to a fancy restaurant instead."
"Are there any other restaurants in this town?" I ask.
She thinks about it. "No! Well then! I guess you will get the candy! There's nothing here but a general store!"
We shake on it and I go to find Nick, who has already seated himself at a four-person table. A guy who looks like Vlad Putin is sitting next to him and glaring at us.
"Why the hell did you pick a table where someone was already sitting?" I ask. He doesn't seem to think it was a big deal.
----
Epilogue?
At least 15 years later, I'm back in the parking lot outside the strip mall. It's seemingly completely abandoned now (though the Ghostbusters sign is still on the building where the HQ was and the mattress store next to it may or may not be preparing to reopen). Some Comic Book Guy-like fanboys (of the movie? the actual Ghostbusters?) have driven up to the mall and are taking pictures.
"It's so sad," one of them says.
----
*I didn't even remember that Columbia University had anything to do with this until I checked Wikipedia this morning
**Ostensibly because I had a hard time remembering what non-cartoon Egon looked like, he looked damn near exactly like C-------- K-------.
Labels: 1960s, 1980s, celebrities, death, grad school anxiety, movies, Nick, restaurants, travel, wasteland
posted by Kat at 8:05 PM
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