And speaking of screenwriters, I love how Perelman first encountered Aldous Huzxley, while under the lash of a relentless realtor.
“Up we trudged through an endless circuit of corridors, and eventually, with a triumphant bleat, she threw open a door. There, in the middle of a hexagonal room lined with mirrors, crouched my hero, myopically pecking at a Hermes portable. As he caught sight of us, he sprang upright, defensively clutching the machine to his breast in a flutter of yellow second sheets that swirled about him like leaves. For an aeon, the three of us hung there confronting genius at bay reflected from every known angle. Then Mrs. Pandora broke the spell.
“‘Thank you, Mr. Hochspiel,’ she chirruped. ‘Well, that’s the upstairs powder room.’”
no subject
“Up we trudged through an endless circuit of corridors, and eventually, with a triumphant bleat, she threw open a door. There, in the middle of a hexagonal room lined with mirrors, crouched my hero, myopically pecking at a Hermes portable. As he caught sight of us, he sprang upright, defensively clutching the machine to his breast in a flutter of yellow second sheets that swirled about him like leaves. For an aeon, the three of us hung there confronting genius at bay reflected from every known angle. Then Mrs. Pandora broke the spell.
“‘Thank you, Mr. Hochspiel,’ she chirruped. ‘Well, that’s the upstairs powder room.’”
Nine