It’s buzzing hot electric at Jack Dempsey’s in the middle of a freak Wednesday rainstorm. The jukebox is plugging away, house remixes of old pop chestnuts I’m too preoccupied to recognize. Sitting down to drinks and burgers with my boy Tony Vitamins after the show, rapping heavy about movie screenings and payroll taxes like a bunch of old misers. The kids at the bar drunkenly sway to the music as we pontificate on the unheralded brilliance of The Last American Virgin and try to keep our thoughts off the film we just saw.
Finally, the question hits – “What did you think of the movie, David?”