The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 12
Randy's POV
'But what would Jonathan Taylor Thomas want with me?' I ask.
'I'm working on a sitcom for ABC, and we're shooting the pilot next spring. However, we still don't have the lead character cast yet. So I've been scouting out local comedy clubs to see if anybody fits the bill. After a month and a half of looking, you're the only one I've seen so far who isn't a total dweeb for lack of a better term.
'Wow! You actually think I'd be good on TV? I haven't done any acting in, oh God, two and a half years or so. But I'm sure I would do okay' I say, still in shock that I'm actually standing here, talking to Jonathan Taylor Thomas.
'Now listen, you don't have the job yet, you still have to audition. But, don't worry too much, I think you'll do great' Jonathan warns.
'When are the auditions?' I ask.
'They're on the sixth of December. I'd say show up around…4 pm' answers Jonathan.
'Oh, and tell Helen Waite to stay home' Jonathan adds with a smile.
'Okay, I'll be there, and Helen will be at home' I say.
'Oh, hey, wait! Where are the auditions being held at?' I ask as he starts to walk away.
'They're being held at the ABC studios. Do you need directions?' he offers.
'Yeah, I've only lived here about a month' I reply.
'Do you have some paper?' Jonathan asks.
'No, but I think I saw some someplace back here. Yeah, over here on this card table' I say, walking over and grabbing a sheet.
'What about a pen? Sorry, I don't tend to keep office equipment on me when I scout comedy clubs' he asks again.
'That I do have' I respond, reaching in my shirt's pocket and pulling out a burgundy pen that the front office of the motel I was staying at gave me. Yes, they actually did give it to me, they just don't know it.
Jonathan then proceeds to sit down in the chair I occupied a few minutes ago, and immediately begins jotting down how to get there.
'These are directions of how to get there from this club. You should make it there in one piece as long as you follow these' Jonathan explains.
'I'll be sure to do that. I just want to know, is driving always going to be pure hell out here?' I smile.
'The truth? Yes. I've been driving here for two years, and sometimes these people still scare the living hell right out of me' he jokes. At least, I hope it's a joke.
'See you then' Jonathan says on his way out.
'Wow' I say to myself once he's out of earshot.
'What're you wowing about kid?' asks Mo.
'I just talked to Jonathan Taylor Thomas. He wants me to audition for a TV show he's executive producing' I say, still with a star struck look on my face.
'See, I told you you'd do fine out there' Mo says, not even the slightest bit shocked that Jonathan Taylor Thomas was here.
He notices the questioning look that I've thrown him.
'Kid, I've been working for this club for 38 years, and I've lived in Los Angeles for all 60 years of my life. After a while, you get used to the big stars around town' Mo explains.
I proceed to collect all of my belongings from my little "desk" area (my car keys that I had already taken out before Jonathan Taylor Thomas approached me and a bottle of Caffeine Free Diet Pepsi), and headed towards the doors.
Then I hear Mo call out 'Hey kid, I'll be looking for you on TV this next fall'.
I wave goodbye.
'I sure hope so' I mumble to myself on my way out of the door.
The fresh, semi-warm night air comes as a nice surprise after being in the stuffy club.
I walk straight out to the spot where I parked the Mustang.
Once inside, I change the radio station since the current was playing "25 or 6 to 4", which I absolutely hate. Of course, I don't like the band Chicago either.
Then I pull out of the parking lot, and find a gas station to stop at. (The car is practically running on empty).
I get out, get the gas, et cetera, et cetera, then get back in.
As I pull out, I notice this big pickup truck following me. It's probably just a coincidence.
I keep driving, and the pickup truck keeps following me, only now, every once in a while he'll put his headlights on high; and nearly blinds me whenever he does.
We keep this up for a while, and just to test the person driving the truck, I turn into a parking lot for a grocery store that is closed. The truck follows, and puts his high beams on once he's turned in there.
I pull out of the parking lot, and start going the direction in which we just came. Once again, the pickup truck follows, and once again, he flashes his damn high beams.
So I decide that it's best to just keep driving, after all, if the guy in the truck is some kind of creep/stalker/murderer/thief/et cetera, he can't get to me if I'm still in the car driving.
After about fifteen minutes, I'm making my way through a suburban neighborhood, pickup truck still in tow despite my best efforts of U-turns, backtracking, and odd routes.
Once again, he flashes his high beams, for what I decide will be the last time when I see a police car parked in a driveway. And, fortunately, I can see a police officer come walking out of the house just as I get to the driveway.
In what seems like one movement, I turn off the car, keep my keys in my hand, undo my seatbelt, and open the door.
As soon as the door is open, I shout to the confused looking police officer 'Arrest that man in the truck. He has been following me around for the past twenty five minutes, trying to blind me with the high beams on his truck!'
The man in the truck has stepped out now as well.
'Officer, it's not me that you want. It's him' the man says.
A/N: Sorry it's taken me a while yet again to update. (Well, maybe not that, long, but longer than what I intended for it to).
Please R&R if you want to know what the insane sounding man in the pickup truck is talking about. And if you know the tale that this is based off of, please don't mention it, otherwise you'll spoil it for others who don't know how the story goes.
Thanks for reading.
-Yours truly, Randy "Jonathan Taylor Thomas' New Found Friend" Taylor