WHO *IS* THAT GUY??

We're in New York. Bored with Manhattan we take a cab into Greenwich Village. Check out a cool punk store and look for some coffee. We find a tiny place and go in. Because of the odd hour it is nearly empty.

We sit, order.

Hey How, Rich, says Karen. Who *is* that guy?

Over in the back, sitting alone, facing diagonally away from us is a guy drinking coffee, leafing through a copy of Billboard.

He hears us and glances over. Karen digs her nails into my knee and my brother's.

Shit, says Maria. It's John Malkovich.

A high-pitched squeak from the back of Karen's throat.

Dangerous Liaisons, she says. I'd do him if he asked me.

It's not, says Howard.

Well it *is* someone famous.

We agree.

But *who*?

I know, says Howard. Look at the hair. It's Art Garfunkel.

Is not.

Is.

Follow me, says Karen.

So we do.

Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but could I have your autograph?

Why sure. He beams. Is very friendly.

Hold on, says Howard. You don't know what he's--

She elbows him.

You're John Malkovich. I thought you were great in Dangerous--

He shakes his head and laughs.

Art Garfunkel?

Laughs again, harder.

Three strikes, Karen.

Do I get a hint?

Sit down, he says. Shield me from the throngs of adoring fans.

We sit.

Well, do I get that hint?

He puts down his coffee and sings softly, in a voice that is still high and beautiful and pure.

 
     [I've seen fire and I've seen rain.
      Seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
      Seen lonely times when I could not--]
Maria joins, harmonizing.

     [--find a friend,
      But I always thought that I'd see you again.]
Karen is shocked, breathless.

He beams again and takes a sip of coffee.

Karen says, rather loudly, James Ingram!

The coffee comes out his nose and he laughs so hard we are certain he'll hurt himself.

Gotcha, says Karen.