The Dating Game, With Your Host – Christopher. Fuckin’. Walken.

The hat is passed and it’s my turn to retrieve the scrap of paper that reveals my scene partner. It’s Tim and the scene is from “Look Back In Anger”.
This is actually perfect. There is an intriguing intensity about him, not to mention that he’s really cute. But I’m a professional. I’m here to work, not make time with my scene partners.
Rehearsals are filled with shared angst and passion for our craft.
We really click. We get each other. That shared edginess, that restlessness.
When he asks me out, I throw all professional caution and other related gobbledy gook out the proverbial window and go for it.
First date – The Marriott Marquis Hotel in Times Square. Not what you think. It becomes a childlike romp through the expanse of the open atrium filled with laughter. A game of hide and seek in our 20s. This guy is really a puzzle. One I don’t yet mind putting the pieces in place with.
Dinner is street food, drinks are out of paper bags as we walk the streets for hours talking about everything and sharing our passions for acting, life, literature, the city itself.
At one point, he broaches the subject of his favorite actor and “mental mentor” Christopher Walken. Only, he refers to him as “Christopher Fuckin’ Walken” at. all. times.
He is suddenly on his knees in the middle of fourteenth street “Cat On a Hot Tin Roof” style, arms stretched to the sky, shouting “Chriiiistopher Fuuuckin’ Waaaalkeeeennnn”. Shouting it to the heavens as if his young life depended on it.
It’s a jarring sight, even after several beers; I’m not gonna lie. But this is all part of the experience of being young and alive in the city, right?
Second date – The Amnesty International Concert at New Jersey’s Meadowlands. I’m not exactly sure why I’m here since I’ve got a leg on either side of the fence about this new suitor.
Midway through the show, the speaker who will introduce Yoko Ono crosses to stage center.
It is Christopher. Fuckin’. Walken.
My date stands up and stretches his arms to the heavens once again and invoking the gods, he shouts his familiar mantra:
“Chriiiistooopherrrr Fuuuuuckkin’ Waaalkeeeennnn.”Even Yoko wouldn’t give this piece a chance.
Third Date – Non existent.
About Linda Roy

Linda is a writer/musician with a Peter Pan Petty complex, a guitar toting husband, two boys and pug dependency issues. She’s grateful that the word “snark” has been introduced into the vernacular since people just used to know her as “the chick with the bad attitude”.  She feels strangely akin to Larry David and will criticize your parallel parking abilities to prove it. She blogs at elleroy was here and fronts the Indie Americana band Jehova Waitresses.  She also writes at Lefty Pop and Funny Not Slutty. Connect with her on TwitterFacebook and Google+

Comments

  1. Estelle says:

    This was so funny! I was able to imagine the ludicrous nature of what you observed. I wouldn’t have gone out a 3rd time with him either!
    Estelle

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  2. Stephanie J says:

    I really like how you wrote this; I felt the momentum in your words like a train gaining speed. And no third date? I woulda married that dude. ;)

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  3. Considerer says:

    Sounds like you would’ve had to out-compete CW anyways…better off shot of the guy ;)

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  4. Darcy Perdu says:

    hysterical! and I LOVE me some Christopher Walken. When he was hosting SNL one time, he asked if the audience had any questions for him but then he said, “To ensure your questions are interesting, I’ve taken the liberty of writing them for you.” Then he would only call on the people who’d been given scraps of paper with hilarious questions for him. My son and I loved that so much that my son did the exact same thing for his 5th grade book report! He pre-wrote hilarious questions and handed them out to kids prior to his speech — the teacher and kids totally cracked up!

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  5. ChrisBird says:

    I would have dated the guy for the stories. You are a bad blogger for not caring about our needs.

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