since i tend to walk a lot of places when i’m going someplace within a couple of miles, i often walk into location shoots downtown. it happens often enough that i don’t even care anymore (assuming i ever did — well, i remember one time michael jordan was shooting an ad at the civic right after he’d launched his fashion line, back when the bulls were still awesome — i gawked a bit then. i mean, michael jordan, man), i just get annoyed by them being in my way. today’s shoot: er.
i’d passed the trailers on my way to the theatre, but forgot all about them on my way home and so walked straight into the mess. i was happily strolling down dearborn rocking out to my ipod when i was forbidden access to cross van buren. i removed my headphones so the earnest young security person could earnestly ask me to wait fifteen seconds or so, just so they could get this shot, then i could cross. “ah,” says i, looking over. “i see doctor pratt.” mekhi pfifer was poised on the stairs down from the el, waiting for the nice man with the clapper and the nice director to tell him he could walk down them. i was close enough to inform mr. pfifer that i would like to do naughty, naughty things to his person, but again, i’m too cool for that suburbanite shit, so i just replaced my headphones and waited.