Sex in the Title - a Comedy about Dating, Sex, and Romance in NYC (back when phones weren't so smart)

by Zack Love

  Chapter 32

  Big News Makes Evan Elated but Panicked

  Evan’s apartment was a little small to be shared with an Afghan Hound, but he and his new pet were slowly adjusting to their cramped coexistence. The real challenge for Evan was accepting his new haircut. Two days after he and the posse had shaved everything off, Evan was beginning to feel OK about his appearance. But on Wednesday night, April 5, 2001, the third day of his Kojak look, Evan came home to two unexpected messages on his answering machine.

  Message one was an invitation to be interviewed for a full-time position as a neural network developer for the financial modeling division of a prestigious but stuffy investment bank. This was the first promising interview he had obtained after three weeks of sending out resumes, and he wasn’t thrilled about trying to impress a notoriously conservative corporate employer with his totally hair-free head. As he jotted down the details of the message, he wondered whether he could somehow postpone the interview for a month, so that his hair could grow back into what would then look like a military-style crew cut.

  The second message, however, was the one that truly made Evan panic about having zero hair for the coming weeks. Indeed, message two was so dramatic that he would end up forgetting to follow up about the job interview offered in message one.

  “Hi, I’m trying to get in touch with Evan Cheson,” the voice began. “We’ve never spoken before and I don’t know if you were expecting a call from me, but this is Delilah Nakova…I’m calling you because my agency sent me your novel, and I just finished reading it. And I guess I’m calling to tell you that I really enjoyed it…In fact, I think it’s one of the best novels I’ve read in a very long time, and I don’t know if you’ve given much thought to the possibility of adapting it into a film, but I personally get very excited just thinking about it. I hope you don’t think it’s too forward or random of me to contact you like this, but I’d love to meet the person who wrote this novel, and I’d also like to talk to you about adapting it into a screenplay.”

  And then she left her cell phone number and email and said that she really hoped to hear from him soon, noting that she would be in New York City for a week starting tomorrow.

  Evan began to hyperventilate from elation and nearly passed out. He replayed the message to himself seven times, thinking that he would eventually believe his ears. When he finally convinced himself that the message was real, he made three backup recordings of it. Then he called Heeb and replayed it to him several times. Then he played it for Trevor, Narc, and Carlos. A little later, he realized that he had just inadvertently disclosed the movie star’s contact details to four people, so he had to call everyone back to confirm that no one had made a note of her private details. He extracted solemn promises from each friend not to use or divulge her information if it somehow popped back into memory.

  Evan couldn’t stop thinking about how April 5, 2001 was without a doubt, the greatest day of his life. And he repeatedly thanked the divine powers behind this miracle for timing its occurrence while he was away, because – had he been home to pick up the phone – he would have surely made a complete ass of himself from the mere shock of the call.

  For fifty minutes, Evan obsessively examined his hairless scalp in the bathroom mirror from various angles while talking to Heeb on his cordless phone for the fifth time that night. “But she wants to meet tomorrow and I don’t have any fucking hair!” he exclaimed.

  “Now you know how I feel every day,” Heeb replied.

  “Can’t you at least acknowledge that the fellowship of the schlong has required some very heavy sacrifices on my part?”

  “What about that unconvincing reassurance you always give me?” Heeb replied.

  “You mean that she might be into bald guys?”

  “That’s the one!” Heeb said, delighted that the tables were finally turned for a change.

  “Heeb you’re not helping.”

  “OK, why don’t you look at the bright side?” Heeb said.

  “What bright side?”

  “You’ve substantially lowered the odds that she’ll recognize you as the guy from that wild Mexican party at Float, who first belittled her beloved Czech language and then nuked the unisex bathroom just as she was trying to use it. And she also won’t recognize you as the guy from the Operation-Repulsive encounter at Duane Reade, six months ago.”

  Evan was silent for a moment as he thought about this.

  “You know, I think you may have a point there…But what will I do once my hair grows back and she sees me looking like I did on one of those two incidents?”

  “I don’t think you’ll ever again look like you did during Operation Repulsive. That was too good even for Halloween. And the Float incident was two years ago…I really doubt she’ll remember that. Unless, of course, you’re stupid enough to remind her somehow.”

  “Given my record with Delilah Nakova, we really can’t discount that possibility.”

  Chapter 33

  The Posse’s Problems

  During the month that followed the momentous message from Delilah Nakova, the posse was confronted with a few challenges. Trevor became more serious about Luigi, who began insisting that he be allowed to join him when he went out with his gang. Carolina subjected each member of the guy group to her rigorous tape-recorded interrogations, and Carlos had a difficult time making it up to his buddies.

  After three weeks of no sex and rigorous questioning, Carolina finally and correctly concluded that her husband had been admirably faithful, given the many opportunities he had had to cheat on her with very desirable women. Carlos was so thrilled to be having sex with his wife again, and so relieved to be absolved of her accusations that he became increasingly loath – even uninterested – in joining his friends for a night out unless Carolina could come along.

  The posse was genuinely torn about whether to admit the two individuals who were actively applying for membership rights. Most of the posse members were especially uncomfortable with having Carolina accompany them after having recently squirmed under her piercing depositions.

  Even more threatening to the posse’s continued viability was the situation with Evan. On April 6, one day after the message that sent him into a euphoric tailspin, Carolina tried questioning him on videotape. She became frustrated with how little he could focus on her questions, and how he kept seeking her advice with respect to Delilah Nakova. After two hours of mostly fruitless investigation, she concluded that he had no useful information for her and released him. That was the last that anyone had seen Evan for four weeks, although a week after his interrogation he did resume regular phone communication with everyone during his absence.

  The posse did manage to meet twice in Evan’s absence, and on several other occasions Heeb and Narc were forced to prowl without the rest of the crew, unless they were prepared to invite Luigi and Carolina to join them. So the two briefly mulled the possibility.

  “Chicks are chick magnets,” Narc pointed out. “And Carolina is smokin’ hot. So it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing for her to come along.”

  “I just feel weird going out with the Grand Inquisitor,” Heeb replied.

  “Word. Well, what about leaving Lucky Chucky and Carolina out, but we take Trevor and Luigi?”

  “I guess we could do that, but that would change things too much…And it’s just not the same without the others.”

  “I hear ya’,” Narc said.

  And so Narc and Heeb decided to go out on their own a few times. As they considered the fortunes and circumstances of each member, they speculated about how much longer the group would last, but assured each other that they would continue going out together as long as they were both single.

  Chapter 34

  Evan and Delilah

  Evan totally forgot about the posse because of the unforgettably surreal experience with Delilah Nakova that began on the night of April 6, just a few hours after Carolina’s deposition ended. At 8 p.m., Evan closed his front door
and approached Delilah Nakova’s limousine, parked outside of his apartment, as if it were some exotic space ship that was about to take him to another world. Inside the limo was Delilah Nakova, in all of her graceful beauty and down to earth charm, sporting a mysterious, Asian look. Her black hair was neatly and tightly folded against her head and wrapped into a chignon secured by wooden hairpins. She wore an elegant red and black peony cheongsam made of silk. Her radiant face, long dark eyelashes, mocha-colored skin, and elegantly feminine figure seemed almost surreal to Evan as he stepped into her limousine and closed the door.

  “I’m sorry for calling you like that rather than ringing your doorbell,” she started. “I just prefer to avoid being seen in public whenever possible because of the paparazzi.”

  Evan was speechless and could only nod in approval of her explanation. And then he suddenly started fumbling in a panic: “I’m sorry about the shaved head…I don’t usually look like this…I just lost a bet with a friend, and – ”

  “Oh it’s cute…I kind of like it,” Delilah said reassuringly. “We’re going to a very comfy restaurant,” she continued, as her limousine drove off. “I hope you like Greek food,” she added. “This place is delicious.”

  “Sounds Greek to me. I mean, sounds great to me,” he said nervously.

  Delilah laughed a little at Evan’s awkward deadpan. Evan actually wasn’t sure if he had intended the pun but was glad that Delilah found it funny.

  Over a sumptuous, candlelit dinner, Delilah began gushing about Evan’s work.

  “It was such a wonderfully memorable novel…I’m actually reading it for the second time now. I really like the lead female character and would love to play her in a film based on your book.”

  “Really?” Evan asked, nearly choking on his food.

  “Are you artistically comfortable with the idea of making it into a film?”

  “It would be a dream come true,” he said, barely containing his ecstatic astonishment.

  “It’s really exciting to think about, isn’t it?” she beamed. Her intensely green eyes twinkled with warmth and promise. “By the way I absolutely love the title!”

  “Sex in the title?”

  “Yes! It’s perfect. Cute. Sexy. Mysterious. Even profound for what is says about our society. I love it!”

  Evan was in heaven. He had to keep reminding himself that this was all happening to him by looking around the restaurant. Every now and then some nearby couple would sneak a peak in the direction of his table, at which point he would imagine them wondering why Delilah Nakova was possibly having dinner with that completely unknown bald guy.

  “Well if you can find that kind of inspiration for your screenplay then we may be able to make some magic together,” she said, unaware that she had just given Evan another taste of Elysian bliss. “Do you have any experience with screenwriting?”

  “Actually, I do,” Evan replied, trying to collect himself. “I’ve written several scripts.”

  “That’s wonderful…Have any been made into movies?” she said, inadvertently asking that follow up question he so detested.

  “Um…No…Not yet,” he said uneasily. Then he hastily added, “But I’d feel very comfortable writing the adaptation of this novel.”

  “Wonderful,” Delilah replied. Evan was relieved that she still seemed to have total confidence in his abilities. “Perhaps we could talk a little about what the vision would be for the screenplay,” she said. “If you don’t mind my input, that is.”

  “Oh no…Not at all…It’s…It’s quite an honor…And the vision for a movie script is everything.”

  “OK, well please don’t take this the wrong way, Evan, because I truly loved your novel…What I’m about to say is just something to keep in mind when you’re writing the screenplay version.”

  “What is it?” said Evan, cringing a little at the looming criticism.

  “Well, the concept of your novel has great commercial potential. And there’s a lot of witty and clever dialogue in there, and some hysterical scenes that I’d really like you to keep if you can. But there are far too many subplots going on for a movie.”

  “What do you mean?” Evan asked.

  “I just think it could be hard for the audience to follow so many different stories and characters that jump around in time so much.”

  Evan watched the waiter clearing their dishes and replacing them with the next course while trying to sneak occasional glances at Delilah.

  “Audiences generally like one or two lead characters with a fairly straightforward plotline in a single genre,” Delilah said. Accustomed to unsolicited attention, she remained focused on Evan and oblivious to the waiter’s occasional looks. “If it’s a comedy, then it should stay a comedy and not venture into drama territory, if you know what I mean. There are some exceptions, but they’re very tough to pull off.”

  “I completely agree,” Evan said cheerfully, even though he was clueless about how he would respect Hollywood parameters when it came to adapting his own novel.

  “And you’ve got some great observations on human psychology and society, but these are really far too profound for Hollywood, and audiences will either get bored or confused by them.”

  “Maybe that’s why none of my screenplays have gotten anywhere,” he replied, feeling a twinge of self-doubt.

  “Evan, you’re a very talented writer with a wonderful imagination, but you just need to be discovered,” Delilah said gently. “Which is why I’m so excited to be here talking to you like this. Because I know that someday, you’re going to be recognized as a top writer. And if I contributed in some way to helping you get discovered, it would be wonderful…I know how hard it can be for new artists.”

  These words sent Evan back into the stratosphere.

  “Another thing to keep in mind for the adaptation is that your sense of humor is a little inconsistent. Sometimes it’s very low humor, with jokes that involve scatological slapstick, and other times it’s very subtle and ironic, or witty.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “Well it’s definitely a compliment for your novel. I think that gives it a much broader appeal. But in film, it might not work. And you may have to dumb down the language a bit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well in your novel the language is also inconsistent. Sometimes it’s very high brow with complex thoughts and sophisticated vocabulary, and other times there’s a lot of simple dialogue.”

  “But that mirrors life, I think,” Evan said, trying delicately to defend his creative decisions. “At times things are very complex and profound. And at other times, they’re very simple. Whether you’re talking about human interactions, the way people communicate, or how they think, there are always going to be moments of incredible simplicity – even stupidity – and other moments of unparalleled insight and eloquence. Like this sentence I just said now. That’s probably the most articulate and profound thing I’ve said all night. The rest was mostly blather.”

  Delilah chuckled at his observation. “Evan, I think you’re absolutely right about the varied complexity mirroring life. And please don’t take any of this as a critique of your novel, which I really do love. It’s also not the way I prefer to see films made. I’m personally a fan of more complex cinema. Independent art films and such. And I would like to start doing more of that, which is one of the reasons I’d like us to work together, Evan.” Each time she said his name she elevated him to a higher region of cloud nine. “And I’d really like to see an all star cast attached to your script.”

  “That would be amazing.”

  “But that also requires a script that follows the Hollywood rules.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because an all star cast means a bigger budget. Twenty to fifty million at least. And that’s with me doing the film without any upfront compensation. So we’d need a major executive producer to back the project.”

  “I see.”

  “And having worked with enough produ
cers, I can tell you that they would basically give us the same script notes that I just gave to you.”

  “OK.”

  Delilah smiled encouragingly at Evan, as if to soften the blow of everything she had just told him.

  Evan smiled back nervously.

  “I think I can get you a script that reflects the suggestions you’ve made,” Evan said, without having a clue how he would actually manage to do this.

  “Really?” Delilah’s face suddenly lit up in delight. She put her naturally bronze hand across the table onto his and repeated her favorite word. “That’s wonderful, Evan!” He felt her soft hand touch his. As he absorbed her warm green eyes, his pulse quickened dreamily.

  “I can’t wait to read it,” she said, her hand still on his. “How soon do you think you could have a first draft ready?”

  “Uhm…How about in a week?”

  “Wow, that’s really fast…But it would be perfect, if you can do it! I’m taking a lighter course load at Brown next year, so that I can work on more projects…I honestly don’t want to rush you with this script, because it really deserves to be done right…But there’s a small window open in my production schedule this winter, so if we could get a final script ready in the next few weeks, we could maybe get financing in place by early summer, with a cast ready to go for production this winter.”

  “A few weeks sounds very doable,” Evan said, trying to focus on the immortal being commanding his next moves rather than on the feasibility of her commandments.

  “Evan, I really don’t want you to feel as if I’m just going to disappear after dumping some impossible assignment on you.”

  “That’s unbelievably sweet of you,” Evan replied, enchanted by her kindness.

  “But I’m being totally serious. In fact, you’re welcome to stay in my loft and just work on the script while I’m in town…It’s in this quaint little spot in SoHo. A great workspace if you need a place to concentrate. And if you run into any problems or you want to talk through any scenes, I’ll be right there to try and help.”