Datasets:
garcianacho
/
Scripts

Dataset card Data Studio Files
xet
 Community
text
stringlengths
1
3.04k
Well, let's not exaggerate. I take pictures. You line up what you want in the viewfinder and click the shutter. No need to mess around with all that artisto crap.
I'd like to see your pictures some day.
It can be arranged. Seeing as how I've read your books. I don't see why I shouldn't share my pictures with you. It would be an honor.
They're all the same.
That's right. More than four thousand pictures of the same place. The corner of 3rd Street and Seventh Avenue at eight o'clock in the morning. Four thousand straight days in all kinds of weather. That's why I can never take a vacation. I've got to be in my spot every morning. Every morning in the same spot at the same time.
I've never seen anything like it.
It's my project. What you'd call my life's work.
Amazing. I'm not sure I get it, though. I mean, how did you ever come up with the idea to do this ... this project?
I don't know, it just came to me. It's my corner, after all. It's just one little part of the world, but things happen there, too, just like everywhere else. It's a record of my little spot.
It's kind of overwhelming.
You'll never get it if you don't slow down, my friend.
What do you mean?
I mean, you're going too fast. You're hardly even looking at the pictures.
But they're all the same.
They're all the same, but each one is different from every other one. You've got your bright mornings and your dark mornings. You've got your summer light and your autumn light. You've got your weekdays and your weekends. You've got your people in overcoats and galoshes, and you've got your people in shorts and Tshirts. Sometimes the same people, sometimes different ones. And sometimes the different ones become the same, and the same ones disappear. The earth revolves around the sun, and every day the light from the sun hits the earth at a different angle.
Slow down, huh?
Yeah, that's what I'd recommend. You know how it is. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, time creeps on its petty pace.
Yeah. There she is. She's in quite a few from that year. She must have been on her way to work.
It's Ellen. Look at her. Look at my sweet darling.
Hey, man, good to see you.
This is April Lee, Auggie. April, say hello to Auggie Wren.
So, what brings you to a dive like this?
It's his birthday so we decided to whoop it up a little.
How old, kid?
Hey, Auggie, I've just been thinking. You wouldn't need some help around the store, would you? Some summer help while Vinnie's gone?
Help? Hmm. It's possible. What did you have in mind?
I'm thinking about the kid. I'm sure he'd do a good job for you.
Hey, kid. You interested in a job? I just got word from your employment agency that you're looking for a position in retail sales.
The kid's sorry, Auggie.
Yeah, well, I'm sorry too. It took me three years to save up those five thousand bucks, and now I'm broke. I can't hardly pay for this beer. Not to speak of having my credibility destroyed. Do you understand what I'm saying? My credibility. So yeah, I'm sorry, too. About as sorry as I've ever been in my whole fucking life.
He's got something to tell you, Auggie.
If he's got something to tell me, why don't he tell it to me himself?
Don't be an ass, Auggie. He's trying to make it up to you, can't you see that?
He's crazy.
No, he's not. You are.
You're right. I just wasn't sure you knew.
It's written all over you like a neon sign. Now say something nice to Rashid to make him feel better.
Fuck you, kid.
It could have been worse. If the cops hadn't come, I might not be standing here now.
Cops? You mean they nabbed those cruds?
No. The ... uh ... the Bobbsey Twins lit out when they heard the sirens. But at least they stopped playing that marimba duet on my skull. Assaultus interruptus.
Fuckus my assus. They did some number on you.
For once in my life I managed to keep my mouth shut. There's something to be said for that, I suppose.
You haven't heard from Rashid, have you?
Not a peep.
I spoke to his aunt a couple of days ago, but she hasn't heard from him either. It's beginning to get a little scary.
That could be a good sign, though. It could mean that he got away.
Or didn't. There's no way of knowing, is there?
So what did he say when he called?
Nothing much. He said his socks and underpants were dirty, and would we mind driving up with his things. Fucking kids, huh? They take you for granted every time.
Nice machine, Auggie. Where'd you find it?
It's Tommy's. The sucker owed me a favor.
It's not a long drive. An hour, an hour and a half. We'll be back in time for dinner.
We'd better be. I haven't spent a night out of Brooklyn in fourteen years, and I'm not about to break my record now. Besides, I've got to be on my corner at eight sharp tomorrow morning.
Hey, man, how's it going?
Hi, Auggie.
Two, right?
Uh, better make it one.
You usually get two.
Yeah, I know, but I'm trying to cut down. Somebody's worried about my health.
Ahhah.
Fine. Or it was until a couple of days ago. A guy from The New York Times called and asked me to write a Christmas story. They want to publish it on Christmas Day.
That's a feather in your cap, man. The paper of record.
Yeah, great. The problem is, I have four days to come up with something, and I don't have a single idea. You know anything about Christmas stories?
Christmas stories? Sure, I know a ton of 'em.
Anything good?
Good? Of course. Are you kidding? I'll tell you what. Buy me lunch, my friend, and I'll tell you the best Christmas story you ever heard. How's that? And I guarantee every word of it is true.
It doesn't have to be true. It just has to be good.
Take over the register while I'm gone, okay, Jimmy?
I have to pee. If the waiter comes, order me a corned beef on rye and a ginger ale, okay?
You got it.
So. Are we ready?
Ready. Any time you are.
I'm all ears.
Okay. You remember how you once asked me how I started taking pictures? Well, this is the story of how I got my first camera. As a matter of fact, it's the only camera I've ever had. Are you following me so far?
Every word.
Okay. So this is the story of how it happened. Okay. It was the summer of 'seventysix, back when I first started working for Vinnie. The summer of the bicentennial. A kid came in one morning and started stealing things from the store. He's standing by the rack of paperbacks near the front window stuffing skin magazines under his shirt. It was crowded around the counter just then, so I didn't see him at first....
Did you ever go back to see her?
Once, about three or four months later. I felt so bad about stealing the camera, I hadn't even used it yet. I finally made up my mind to return it, but Granny Ethel wasn't there anymore. Someone else had moved into the apartment, and he couldn't tell me where she was.
She probably died.
Yeah, probably.
Which means that she spent her last Christmas with you.
I guess so. I never thought of it that way.
It was a good deed, Auggie. It was a nice thing you did for her.
I lied to her, and then I stole from her. I don't see how you can call that a good deed.
You made her happy. And the camera was stolen anyway. It's not as if the person you took it from really owned it.
Anything for art, eh, Paul?
I wouldn't say that. But at least you've put the camera to good use.
And now you've got your Christmas story, don't you?
Yes, I suppose I do.
What do you mean?
I mean, it's a good story.
Shit. If you can't share your secrets with your friends, what kind of friend are you?
Exactly. Life just wouldn't be worth living, would it?
What'll it be, Auggie?
Uh... My friend over here would like a corned beef on rye and a ginger ale.
And what about for you?
Huh?
What about for you?
For me? I'll have the same thing.