Sitting across from me on the 1 Train this morning was a guy in a suit. His outfit made me think: junior agent trainee. But I may be reading into it. See, he had a bag. And in his bag were scripts. About 6, if I can trust my count from across the crowded subway car.
And watching him divide his attention between at least four things -- listening to his iPod, not missing his stop, not letting the bag topple over and, oh yeah... reading that script -- reminded me why I am more and more reluctant to ever send my plays or screenplays into the hands of someone I do not know... very well.
I am sure he has nothing but the best intentions. He's busy, as we all are. But I felt sad for the poor playwright whose script he was reading in bitesize morsels. Between 14th Street (where he boarded the train) and 42nd, he read slightly more than one page before neatly folding it back into the bag with its brothers and sisters. At that rate, this playwright can expect his or her work to be digested in about 40 to 50 more sittings.
There's got to be a better way, folks!
