Naked (self-betraying) Lunch

"If you have an original idea in this town, you're dead," Cedric said as he waved to Stephen Bochco sittting across the room at The Farm. I was introducing the author of Down Boy! to Cedric and Shawn over a lunch--and Cedric spent most of it trying to find out why a woman would write a book about training men like dogs.

"Would you say you are angry at men?" He asked.

"No," the author said, "I really adore men. I just wish they could be more like my pug."

At a nearby table, I noticed a prominent screenwriter I had met once at party. He noticed me, too, and kept looking over as if trying to place me and finally succeeding. I was hoping to have a chance to say hello before lunch ended. Then I saw him get up and start to walk over. I was happy about that until I noticed the person who was walking over with him--his lunch partner. I recognized him as the oily producer who had stolen an idea for a TV series I had brought to him. He took it to a network without my participation. I had worked very hard on developing the pilot with my writing partner and thought that by involving this producer it would help get the pilot made. I hadn't seen him or spoken to him since the day in September 2001 when I phoned him on his cellphone, called him a liar and hung up on him. Now he was advancing on me a grin plastered on his face.

"Oh my god, " I thought. "What am I going to do?"

I reflexively mouthed the letters "S-H-I-T" which I am almost certain he saw. But that didn't stop him. He kept coming toward the table and smiling all the way. He was not a man to be discouraged by shit.

The screenwriter got to the table first. We shook hands and then I turned to the producer. I didn't know what to do so, I automatically stood up, smiled and hugged him. Then I introduced him to everyone at the table.

I sat down and was horrified that I had been so kind and friendly to him.

How could I do that?

I spent the rest of the lunch berating myself. I had drawn on my worst instincts as an actress and my insatiable need to be liked. I could have just said a cordial hi and not stood up. Or better yet, I could have introduced him as the asshole who stole my television idea. But no, I had to overcompensate for my hate and pretend like all was forgiven.

So, after saying goodbye to Shawn and the author, I walked Cedric back to his office and told him the whole story.

"Sounds like a great idea for a tv show. I want to read your pilot," he said. "And don't worry about what happened at lunch," he added. " It just shows that you're the bigger person."

I love Cedric for that.

I guess if you can fake sincerity, you can get through a lunch in Holllywood.