This is my new blog series about Dreamblr, my bad-ass Id, who shows up every now and then to remind the puss twins, ego and superego, why he should be running the show. Dreamblr’s first lesson is a four part series of megalomaniacal dreams I’ve had since moving to NYC where I meet NBC celebrities and am incredibly chill with them.
Part 1: Zach Woods
Prelude:
Zach plays the Sabre toady, Gabe Lewis, on The Office this season. He was my Improv teacher at UCB (Upright Citizen’s Brigade) about a year before landing this role and we’ve had, at best, a passing acquaintanceship since then. I saw him on the train a few nights ago, my girlfriend pointed him out, but he was mobbed by hangers-on and I didn’t want to become one, so we left him be. Dreamblr was disappointed in me.
Dreamblr:
It had been a long hot night of high priced drinks, fancy hors d’oeuvres, and stylized comedy burlesque in DUMBO, and Anelisa and I were sleepily enjoying the long ride home. We had been the best looking couple at the event and were obviously over-dressed for this subway car and its crepuscular ghouls, but we let them breathe us in and savor what it was to be vibrantly alive.
Enter Zach Woods. I feel our aura diminish somewhat as my lanky pseudo-celebrity acquaintance slinks on board, but I am unconcerned. A pack of ill-bread well-wishers, freshly sprung from their UCB den, have him pinned, frothing forth praise as unctuous as their foreheads. His social graces chaffing, he offers not unkind responses while trying to surreptitiously retreat inside his overlarge polo.
Poor guy, I think, trying out a simile involving an anorexic turtle. It doesn’t stick. Anelisa lounges against me warmly, but, sensing my call to arms, she lets me go to help a kindred spirit in need.
I rise. The half of the train that had been sneaking glances my way lose all guile in that moment as they watch me approach Zach, hoping vainly I’d come to them. His curs regard me with a silent snarl, fear-grease dripping from their forehead glands. Noticing their attention, Zach turns to me, his worn visage pleading not another one.
“Zach, it’s been awhile.” I offer my hand, it says, I am not one of them, I know you to be just a man.
He takes my hand, his saying, life has changed, but not all for the better. “Eric, right?” I nod, “how are you?”
“Not bad, Zach, you just do ASSSSCAT?” (a UCB improv show with celebrity guests)
“Yeah.”
We discuss the show succinctly, a mediocre student and an exceptional teacher talking shop, without pretense or sycophancy. The creatures behind him watch me closely, forgotten, swaying as one with the movements of the train like a sweaty pendulum.
“Well, good seeing you Zach. I just gotta say you’re a friggin’ inspiration. Hope we meet up on the West coast some day.”
“Definitely, let me know if you’re coming out that way,” he says with a loose smile, the first I’ve seen on him since his New York days.
I exit casually, back to my Anelisa. Zach and the rest appraise her longingly as my back is turned. Reading the moment as only she can, she smiles hearteningly at Zach and, for his entourage, a flat blink and a sniff. I need not spare another glance their way – Dreamblr only exits once, with feeling – yet I know their eyes are upon me, Zach frowning happily at this curious gift, his pack excreting oily self-loathing from every double-wide forehead pore.
I ease into my seat and their slathering chatter resumes with a desperate zeal. They cannot understand how I have just won from Zach what they never will. They cannot fathom that here sits a man who has achieved happiness without compromise. Sure, he’s no Zach Woods, but he’s sure as hell on his way.
“The Summer Wind” starts in softly out of nowhere for Anelisa and me, but we expect this sort of thing.
